City of Soldiers by Burke Sam

Author:Burke, Sam [Burke, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2013-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

BRACKETT’S idea of a fun afternoon was a street festival on Broad Street south of City Hall. Sean didn’t think the weather would be good for it, but by three o’clock the sun had burned through the clouds to illuminate several dozen booths and vendors. The cool breeze pushed along the smells of roasting nuts and hot pretzels. Sean was too stuffed to even look at the food. He might never eat again, and he told Brackett so.

“Don’t give up on it forever,” Brackett said. “I know plenty more good places.”

That sounded like a promise. Sean supposed, for a man like Brackett, that he might be tempted into eating again. Someday.

Part of the street had been roped off, which made it easier for Sean to limp along without being jostled by the crowds. He really wished he’d brought Bastard. Brackett was a slow walker, though, taking his time as he studied the contents of each booth. Sean didn’t know much about art. He knew he didn’t like photos so much, or paintings that didn’t make sense, or landscapes that were empty of people and buildings.

“A lot of landscapes aren’t done right,” Brackett said when Sean frowned at one large canvas.

“I thought art didn’t have a right and wrong,” Sean replied.

“Should have green grass, short enough that you can see if there’s a predator hiding in it. Trees with branches low enough that you can climb to safety if a predator suddenly shows up. Some kind of water, like a stream or river or lake. A path that takes you somewhere other people go.”

Sean studied the picture in front of them, which had none of those things. “What does that get you?”

“It gets you something that appeals to the hindbrain,” Brackett said. “Makes you feel comforted and secure, just like it did to our ancestors thirty thousand years ago.”

The owner of the booth, a thin, middle-aged man with a shiny bald head, was watching them from his folding chair in the corner. He didn’t seem interested in getting up to hard sell them on any of the landscapes hanging in place, but Sean thought he was listening keenly to Brackett.

“Is that the job of art?” Sean asked. “Make you feel secure?”

“No,” Brackett admitted. “But most people don’t buy landscapes of Hell for their living room walls.”

They moved on. Some of the booths had jewelry or glassware, very pretty but nothing Sean was interested in. Some paintings were just blotches of dark paint thrown on canvas. Jason would like those. Sean felt guilty he hadn’t returned Jason’s last two calls. He worried, suddenly, that this street fair was the exact kind of thing that Jason would be interested in. That maybe he’d been calling to invite Sean here. If Jason saw Sean and Brackett together, would he cause a scene? Sean hated drama. He thought Brackett might hate it too, might judge Sean harshly if Jason showed up and started something because he thought he had a right to Sean’s time and company.

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