How Green Becomes Wood

"Yep, it was a good commission and a really interesting one to work on," she said before getting out of the truck. "I'll go knock on the door."

She hadn't made it to the door when it opened, and a very straight-laced-looking man stepped out. He looked very much like an office manager with his brushed back greying hair and suit pants white button-up shirt. He even still had on his tie, though it was loosened. "You are late," he said sternly.

Lex glanced at her watch. "By five minutes?"

"Five minutes or twenty, late is late," he said severely. He stepped out, closing the door behind himself. "This way. I have a place for it in the back."

"Right," Lex said mildly. "I'd like to see where we're setting it up so I'm not blandly dragging a heavy hunk of metal around."

The man frowned at her but led her around and up the side of the house where the concrete driveway continued into the backyard. A heavy wooden gate blocked the way, but it rolled aside with ease at the man's light touch, and they disappeared in the back. A couple o minutes later, Lex returned and went to the truck.

"He's got a concrete pad waiting for us in the middle of the yard," she told Cooger, twisting her back and rolling her wrists, a line of annoyance deep between her brows. "There's a paved path all the way there, so it won't be hard once we get it off the truck and onto the dolly."
 
"He seems like... quite the guy," Cooger said frowning, standing up straight from where he had been leaning against his truck, looking annoyed with how he had seen Lex be spoken to, "A really easy going fellow. I'll talk him, I swear I will." Wiping his hands on his jeans, making a point of inelegance, he went around to the side of the truck and worked unstrapping the statue.
 
"Eh, if I was stuck in a white cube all day getting my soul sucked out by paperwork, I might be a bit snippy too," Lex said, shrugging it off.

She made sure the dolly was in position and locked into place before helping Cooger unstrap. They lifted the statue - which stood up to Cooger's chest in height and about three feet across in a more-or-less round shape. With Cooger's help, Lex guided the statue into the plain but impeccably kept backyard to where the man stood with his arms folded impatiently. He stood back and said not a word as Lex found the exact center and had Cooger help her to turn the statue and get it perfectly centered and facing the right direction.

"Moment of truth," she muttered to Cooger as she started unwrapping the blankets. "The client's seen pictures, but nothing compares to seeing it in real life. You might want to stand back."
 
"If you're sure," He grumbled, grunting as he lowered the statue. He may have been a generally friendly guy, but he hated disrespect like that. There was never a place for it, in his view.

When the statue was set up properly, he did as he was asked and took a big step back, "Alrighty, let's see it."
 
Lex finished unwrapping it, and as the last blanket fell away, it revealed not a solid piece of metal, but thousands of strands woven together messily with small pieces randomly scattered throughout. Upon closer look, each of the small pieces was an object, but they didn't seem to make a lot of sense. Books, magnifying glasses, little blobs, all at minuscule scale and not very detailed. The overall shape didn'teven look like much. It didn't look like anything, but Lex looked at the ground beside it and nodded in satisfaction.

The man uncrossed his arms and moved to where he could see the shadow cast on the ground by the sun's rays, and his lips thinned. He still didn't say anything, just stared at the shadow.

Lex glanced at Cooger and stepped over to him. "What do you think?" she asked.
 
Cooger looked at the sculpture blank faced, one hand in his pocket. That was definitely, eh, a sculpture. One of the sculptures of all time, by his estimation. Yep. "That is real unique, that," he answered Lex as he took a step to the side to get a different angle, "Looks like it probably took a whole lotta skill. But I ain't too precious about art, never been. Now, Dark, he knows a whole lot about it, he'd have lots to say, I bet."
 
Lex chuckled and touched his arm lightly to encourage him to follow her. "Step more to the left and look at the shadow," she told him, guiding him sideways to stand a little closer to the client.

On the ground, when viewed clearly, the suns rays cast through the sculpture to create the defined silhouette of a woman's face and shoulders. It wouldn't stay defined all day, but as the sun moved, at different times of the day, it would appear as clear as a picture painted on the concrete.
 
Cooger did as he was told, confused at first, but when he saw the shadows on the ground he clicked his tongue, evidently impressed, "Well shit. Would ya look at that. That is really, really neat."
 
The man finally glanced toward them. "You did excellent work," he told Lex stiffly. With a look at Cooger, he said, "Beautiful, isn't she? That's my daughter and all the things in the sculpture were her passions and things that she loved or hated. I wanted something to remember her after she died last year." His voice cracked, and he put his face in one hand in that silent, tense way of men who couldn't let themselves cry yet could not hold it in.

Lex nodded to the man. "We'll be letting ourselves out. Thanks for trusting me with this task."

He didn't respond, and Lex wasn't surprised. She headed back the way they'd come in and went to Cooger's truck.
 
Cooger blinked, that bit of news taking him by surprise. He presumed it was the man's wife, which was the only thing which stopped him from making a comment about how Lex should make one of these for Dark if Daizi died unexpectedly. But he didn't expect it to be the man's kid. Scratching the back of his neck, he said, "She must've been a really special lady, to earn a memorial like this. It's a real special thing, being remembered."

Then he awkwardly hurried after Lex, waiting until they got into the car to say, "You coulda warned me."
 
"I didn't think it'd come up, honest," Lex told him, buckling up and pulling on the strap. "I didn't expect him to just blurt it out like that. I guess it needed to come out. Sounds like he was one of those 'my way or the highway' kind of dads, trying to pick their kid's path so they'll be 'successful' or whatever and just end up driving them off, and now he's got a mountain of regrets and nothing but a cold iron statue to consol him."
 
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"Could be," Lex said, not fully convinced but not willing to discuss the possibilities. "Anyway, now he's got a pretty cool way to remember her. It was one of my best works, I gotta say. It took forever to get it to line up properly. Although, at some points during the day, he's going to get a pretty decent shadow of a haunted bowl of spaghetti. Or maybe a squid."
 
"I want to say I can imagine, but really, I've got absolutely no clue what that level of dedication must be like. You're stronger than me, though, boy, I'll tell you. I couldn't charge if I heard a story like that." He glanced back at the house as they drove away, "I can't. I don't. Not if it's genuine, but luckily I've got a pretty good nose for when they're not."
 
Lex shrugged and shifted to a more comfortable position. "Some people... they need to be charged. They need to feel as though they aren't being pitied. That they're still strong even if they ain't or it's about something stupid. It makes them feel as if there's some normalacy in the world. I didn't charge him as much as maybe I could have, so there's that, but I still charged enough to cover my costs and help pay my bills."
 
"I guess so," Cooger nodded, finding that fair, although after a moment he said, "We've got two different buisnesses, I guess. 'Cause ordering a memorial sculpture and your roof leaking after someone dying are two different life events."
 
"Well, sure, but..." He hesitated, knowing he was putting himself in danger, "Now I'm not saying all you do is arts, I know you make other things, and I definitely ain't saying arts ain't important. I've never said that, I'll never say that. Fact is, I tried to get Dark to give up teaching and all that and just be an artist, he'd earn more and flourish in his passions. Probably make a name for himself, go down in the books. So I'm not saying it ain't important. But it's not even just a person needs a roof. It's that bad news multiplies. Someone dies, and you're dealing with that, then things break down? Just more bad, uncontrollable things happening to you. Helluva lot to cope with." He glanced at Lex, "Your work, though, seems people have a lotta control over it."
 
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