Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down

by Stone, Danika

  “So what’re your plans for tomorrow?” Suzanne asked. “Feel like coming down to the flea market with us? I’m gonna see if I can pick up a few things for my next sculpture.”

  Ava took comfort in the studio the three of them still shared. When they were all there painting, and Chim came up the stairs stinking of pot, carrying coffee and day-old muffins, she could almost pretend that they’d be there forever.

  “Actually,” Ava said happily, “Cole and I are running out to the airport, so we can’t.”

  Marcus glanced up, grinning.

  “Your dad’s coming back!”

  : : : : : : : : : :

  Ava and Cole stood in the airport, their hands clasped together. She vibrated with energy, the excitement coming out in the steady bouncing of her legs. Cole glanced over at her, beaming.

  “I love that you do that, you know?”

  “Do what?”

  He chuckled, imitating the slight side-to-side of her steps. She snorted.

  “I do not do that!”

  Cole pulled her closer, his mouth next to her ear.

  “You do...”

  She giggled.

  “Do not.”

  Cole pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard. Ava’s hands rested against the front of his shirt, lips parting.

  “I want to see what you’d be like if I was the one coming home,” Cole said with a lopsided grin.

  Ava tightened her hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

  “I wouldn’t want you to leave at all.”

  : : : : : : : : : :

  The three of them sat in the small diner downtown, a few blocks from Ava’s studio. Oliver had one side of the booth, Ava and Cole the other, the remains of breakfast between them. They’d been chatting for an hour, reliving the last few months. Oliver was completely involved in the final production of his new album and the audio work that Pete’s son had done for him. He was ecstatic about the cleanliness of the sound; the recordings had finally achieved the purity he always strove for.

  Cole and Ava told him about school, and their plans for the summer. Ava had broached the subject of Cole sharing the apartment, and Oliver – after a healthy dose of teasing – had agreed. Ava's costs would drop, allowing her to focus solely on painting rather than having to get a summer job before the National Gallery show. Ava hoped that the sales of her artwork from that particular event would mean she wouldn’t need a job other than painting after that, either. That’s what she was focused on.

  Real life.

  Across the booth from her, Oliver launched into another story about the symphony’s latest tour. He would be going back in a week, right after the Thomases’ dinner. He laughed while Cole joked about his family.

  “Everyone comes from a messed-up family, Cole,” Oliver said with a wink. “I mean, not too many people would consider teacup reading and past lives their thing. You seem okay with it, though.”

  “Yeah, well,” Cole said with a chuckle, “it grows on you.”

  There was more laughter and stories about the last months, especially Spring Break on Martinique and the turtle. Oliver winked again at Ava as she described it. It felt, Ava thought, like her father had never left.

  Pete brought around the coffee pot, refilling their mugs, and there was a short lull while everyone drank. Ava’s eyes were on her father. He was watching her and Cole. She saw his expression flicker – pain? fear? – and then it disappeared, covered with a patient smile. He cleared his throat, setting down his coffee mug, and leaning forward.

  “So, uh... how did things with your mother turn out?”

  Ava jumped at his words, the coffee mug clattering down and sloshing its contents across the tabletop. She resettled the cup, her palm flattening against the table as if trying to hold herself steady. She hadn’t mentioned Shay’s reappearance to her father... wasn’t sure how to bring something like that.

  “I... uh...” she stumbled. “She was in rehab, Dad, but she took off. She, um… she OD’d a few weeks ago.”

  Ava was aghast. Her father reached out, putting a comforting hand over hers.

  “I figured. Sorry, Kiddo.”

  Ava’s chest began aching, her breath coming in shallow gulps. Cole slid closer in the booth, his arm dropping over her shoulders.

  “How...?” Ava squeezed out. She stared at her father, the skin of her arms rising in gooseflesh.

  He smiled sadly. “I read your teacup.”

  Ava swallowed hard, her eyes swimming with tears.

  “But you didn’t see her!” she yelped. “I would have remembered that!”

  He shook his head. He reached for his breast pocket but dropped his hand back down, a sure sign he wanted a cigarette, but was delaying getting one. Oliver cleared his throat.

  “Yeah, I saw Shay in your cup... but I didn’t tell you.” He shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it’d be fair.”

  The news left Ava reeling.

  The world outside continued on. The day was just as bright – people going about their daily lives, cars driving by – but everything had changed for Ava.

  “Why not?”

  Cole gently squeezed her free hand under the table.

  “If I’d said you were going to see your mom again,” her father said. “And that it’d be good for you… but that she’d screw it up in the end…”

  Ava couldn’t follow his train of thought, her mind still jumping from one idea to another. ‘He knew!’

  “If I’d done that,” Oliver continued sorrowfully, “how would you have felt about it?”

  “I dunno… I just… ” her frown deepened, the ‘what ifs’ suddenly real. “I guess I would have expected it, been a bit more prepared... known what to do...” Her voice trailed off.

  “Exactly,” he said wearily. “You would’ve felt obliged somehow. If I told you, you’d see her again... you’d feel like you had to. If I told you that she was in your cup and you didn’t talk to her... then you’d expect that instead.”

  Her father sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. Ava looked over at Cole. He smiled, and she wondered if this was how he’d felt when all of his dark history was being revealed in front of her.

  He squeezed her fingers again. I. Love. You.

  “I needed you to make that decision for yourself, Ava.” Oliver said. “It was the choice that was important, that it was yours. Sorry, Kiddo, I just didn’t feel I could tell you without… affecting it.”

  That of course, made perfect sense.

  “Thanks.”

  He winked, steepling his hands on the table.

  “I knew it’d work out – I saw it – but you needed to make your own decision.”

  : : : : : : : : : :

  The three of them – Cole, Ava and Oliver – sat together, talking in the dim apartment. It was past two in the morning, but Oliver, still on Greenwich mean time, was wide awake. At some point, the idea of a teacup reading had come up, and Cole was surprised when he’d found himself agreeing to have his read.

  “Yeah,” he said, grinning at Ava, “I’d like that, actually.”

  Oliver smothered a smile under his hand. He stood, going to the cupboard and laying them out on the table. They were the same three cups from before, with the curved bottom and the faded pattern of leaves. Oliver measured out one quarter teaspoon of Darjeeling, watching the dry leaves drop to the bottom, then pouring the boiling water on top. He settled in, waiting for them to steep.

  This time, Cole enjoyed sitting and sipping the black tea, listening as Oliver and Ava talked about the multi-print project. She’d saved the last, tenth, zinc plate – plus one of the prints from it – for her father to keep, and he was planning on framing the plate itself, rather than the actual print. The variegated silver image was visible only through the play of light on its surface disappearing without it. Cole couldn’t explain why, but it somehow made sense that Ava’s father would want the print’s source, rather than the print itself.

  “The word intaglio is Itali
an, you know,” Oliver explained. “It’s from the verb ‘intagliare’ which means to cut into... to scar...”

  Cole leaned onto his elbows, listening to Ava’s father talk. He seemed to have an anecdote for everything, as if his whole life had been categorized into a million little moments that appeared in story-form when they were needed. Oliver loved the idea of etching, the echoes of previous images sneaking through at random moments, never fully obscured. It was almost with disappointment that Cole realized that his tea was gone and the reading would begin.

  Oliver turned on a jazz record in the living room before wandering outside to the fire escape for one last cigarette. Ava sat next to Cole, smirking.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  Cole slid closer.

  “I’m not worried about it anymore,” he said with a shrug. “Pretty sure I know all the worst parts about my life. Might be nice to get a foot up on some of the good things.”

  She grinned, leaned in to kiss him. A few minutes later, Oliver returned, sitting down and rolling up his sleeves.

  “Let me hold your hands for a moment,” Oliver said, reaching across the table to Cole. “Nothing weird,” he said with a chuckle. “I just need to connect to you somehow. Right now I only know you through Ava. I need to be able to read you, not her.”

  Cole nodded, placing his hands against Oliver’s palms. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but there was something there. It wasn’t the same as when he’d shaken Ava’s hand for the first time, but he could sense a faint buzz, a vibration. Ollie’s fingers were warm, and he closed his eyes, brows pulled together in concentration.

  Ten seconds passed, then twenty...

  “Alright,” Oliver said, suddenly releasing Cole’s palms, and sitting up straight, “got it.”

  Cole waited uncertainly.

  “Make a wish,” Oliver said, gesturing to the upturned cup, “and turn it clockwise three times.”

  Cole closed his eyes. He knew what he wanted and though he was sure that he was close to getting it, he wouldn’t mind having the assurance on this one. He turned the cup once, twice, a third time. He opened his eyes to find Ava and her father watching him.

  “Are you ready?” Oliver asked, voice serious. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  Cole grinned, reaching for Ava’s hand.

  “Nah, I’m good. Let’s get started.”

  Oliver nodded and picked up the cup, lifting it near his face, a knowing smile beginning to tug at his mouth. His eyes jumped from Cole to Ava and then back again. He cleared his throat. Cole could see him trying not to smile.

  “You’ve got your wish,” he said dryly.

  Cole felt Ava’s fingers tighten on his. She’d seen the reaction, too. For a moment, Oliver opened his mouth, seeming like he was going to say something about it, but then he shook his head and closed his mouth again. Instead, he held the cup in his palm and squinted into its base.

  “Alright then, Cole, let’s see what’s going on here,” he said, voice dropping. “Ah yes, okay now… well, the bottom of your cup is a bit muddy. Lots of things going on, things that aren’t really clear. Hmmm…”

  He gestured as he spoke, guiding Cole’s attention to the leaves. Sure enough, Cole could make out the dark flotsam in the bottom, bits and pieces of broken leaves smeared together.

  “Is that bad?” Cole asked. His fingers had tensed around Ava’s but he forced them to relax.

  Oliver chuckled, glancing back up at him.

  “Well, I mean, that isn’t good, but I’d say it’s all going on right now... so you’ll be able to answer the question for yourself. Is it that bad?” he asked, twisting Cole’s words back around.

  Cole blushed, not answering, and Oliver’s attention moved back to the cup.

  “Whatever is going on, it doesn’t have to do with Ava. Don’t worry about that. You two are good… I can see that too. So I’m guessing this is either school issues or other stuff.”

  Cole released his breath, repeating the words.

  “It’s other stuff. Stuff with my fa—”

  Oliver stopped him with a raised palm.

  “Don’t help, alright?” he said with a chuckle. “Okay… so there is a time when things are muddy… messy… just really busy. That’s all going on right about now – whatever it is – and it seems like it’s all tied together somehow. I can’t tell how, but it is…”

  He caught Cole’s eyes and gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “It’s gonna be fine,” he said firmly. “Don’t worry about it, Cole. You’re already doing the work to fix it; it’s underway. There’s someone else there too – an older man, I think – maybe your dad? He’s got a weight on his shoulders. See this? The image I’m getting is a really heavy pack. Too heavy for one person to carry.”

  Cole peered into the cup, and perhaps it was his imagination, but he almost thought he could see it.

  “It’s all of these things pressing down,” Oliver continued. “You’re helping him to get rid of them, helping him with the burden… the two of you working together.” Oliver smiled. “It’s a good thing.”

  Cole nodded, remembering the last few sessions with Marta and his father. They hadn’t been fun, but he and Frank were changing the way they related to one another. Next to him, Ava smiled and Oliver’s words resumed.

  “... so after that, you’ve got a time when you’re working closely with someone.” He turned the cup around so that Cole could see down into the interior, pointing with the tip of his finger to a smear of leaves. “See this part here? It’s a woman. Her hair’s in a ponytail.” He smirked at Ava for a moment, and then back to Cole. “She’s standing next to you. You’re busy for this next part of the cup, I’d say getting ready for school or planning something. All these different elements coming together, but she’s right there beside you, helping you out... and… and…”

  He abruptly frowned, his face dropping down almost to the rim. He was scowling. Cole’s chest tightened in dismay. Oliver had definitely seen something. When he looked back up, his expression had changed; light humour gone. He glared at Ava.

  “Were you going to tell me about the motorbike at some point?” he asked, voice sharp. The ‘protective father’ rather than ‘easy-going dad.’ Cole held in the urge to laugh at the resemblance to an outraged Chim.

  “I, um… yeah, Dad, I was. I just hadn’t had a chance,” Ava stammered. “Sorry! I just know how you feel about bikes and I figured you’d worry about me.”

  “Damn right,” her father muttered.

  Oliver’s lips pursed together in annoyance. The seconds ticked by in silence. Cole felt a nervous twinge.

  “Well, you’re both adults,” Oliver finally said with a dismayed sigh. “God help me, kid, but I’m gonna go grey over this, you know.”

  Ava giggled and nodded to the forgotten cup in her father’s hands.

  “Cole’s teacup, Dad.”

  He glanced back down.

  “Yes, well... first thing,” he said, glancing back up in exasperation, “is that I see both of you on motorcycles... and you’re taking a trip up the coast, stopping at various places. It looks like you have a good time. You stop at a whole bunch of resorts and towns... I can see the two of you next to a wharf, lots of big ships beside you. Don’t know where that is, but you’ll know it when you see it.” He smiled, the tension easing. “It’ll be a good time… just the two of you together, enjoying yourself.”

  He twisted the cup closer, reading the leaves that stretched up the side toward the rim.

  Time passing.

  “There’ll be some kind of event…” He chuckled. “I can see what looks like a hell of a lot of graffiti.” He turned the cup to show them. “So I’d say this is Ava’s show. There’s someone there, Cole. Someone tall and kind of skinny, and you’re going to go talk to this person... a guy, I’d guess. It’s a good thing. Seems like things are going to settle because of it.” He winked. “There’s a dragon attached to tha
t meeting.”

  “A dragon?” Cole asked.

  Oliver nodded, lowering the cup to the table.

  “Yeah... everything is images for me. Bits and pieces coming together in pictures.” He grinned. “I see good fortune as dragons, and...” he turned the cup, pointing at a rippling shape along the edge, “and that thing there is definitely a dragon. Whoever this person is – this tall guy you talk to – it’s a good thing for you. Some kind of resolution, and a change for the future...”

  Cole frowned, wondering why he was convinced that this person was Kip Chambers. It bothered him; he wanted nothing to do with Kip.

  “Anyhow, whatever it is... something is settled by that meeting, leaving you feeling better. And,” Oliver said, nodding, “that all leads into some kind of event that happens a bit later. It’ll be important for grad school, or maybe it’s work…can’t tell, but it’s happening in a gallery. I think maybe you’re curating a show for this person. That stretches up the side of your cup… important stuff, good fortune, money and opportunities, more dragons…”

  Oliver smiled, leaning in.

  “You and a woman are going on a trip somewhere,” he said, his eyes moving from Ava to Cole, “This is the same woman with the motorbike, so let’s just call her Ava, shall we?”

  Next to Cole, Ava giggled again.

  “So anyhow, you and Ava take a trip on a plane… looks like it’s to Japan.” He stopped for a moment, gesturing to a shape. “Yup, Japan, that’s what it looks like to me… and the two of you are together… good things leading off from there.” he said, eyes twinkling happily. “Just happy.”

  With a sigh, Oliver placed the cup on the table, running his hands through his hair.

  “That’s the end of the first cup. So tell me, do you want to go another year forward? You want to know more?”

  Cole turned to Ava with a grin.

  “Nah. I know all I need to know.”

  : : : : : : : : : :

  Cole and Ava were in the living room, the jazz music still faint in the background. Oliver had given up on sleep and decided to go into the music studio instead, determined to get some composition done. He’d been working endlessly on his latest piece, and when he got into the flow of writing, he often lost track of time.