Stay Gold by Clara Lock

Author:Clara Lock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marshall Cavendish International

The paper bag caught Shafiq’s eye first, sunny yellow and unusually crisp next to Daniel’s Red Bull singlet and navy shorts.

“Bro, this is for you.” Daniel placed it on the void deck’s stone table without ceremony, clapping one hand on Shafiq’s shoulder.

It was a set of drawing pencils, eight of them in increasing shades of darkness, lying neat and unsharpened in a slim metal box. Next to them were two books – Basic Drawing Made Amazingly Easy, and Threadless: Ten Years of T-shirts from the World’s Most Inspiring Online Design Community.

“You said you wanted to design T-shirts,” Daniel said simply, in response to Shafiq’s quizzical raised brows, and only then did Shafiq remember – yes, he had mentioned it once in passing, said he wished he had been born with the ability to draw, on one of those evenings at their usual Pasir Ris Drive 6 coffee shop.

“It just takes practice,” Daniel had said. Shafiq disagreed, thought talent was a result of nature not nurture, and Daniel hadn’t pressed the issue. Instead they fell back into the companionable silence that filled many of their evenings that year.

The memory wavered, shimmery and translucent, and for an instant he wondered if he had imagined it. He had not yet learned – relearned – how to trust his mind.

“Thanks man,” said Shafiq, not knowing how to continue, instinctively reaching for his pack of Marlboro Reds instead. A solitary cigarette rattled softly against the box’s shiny silver lining.

“When you design your first collection, I get first dibs,” said Daniel.

“Sure, if I ever get around to it.”

“You have all the material now, you have no excuse not to. I’ll even buy you a new pack of cigarettes, so you can’t complain that you have no mood.” As Shafiq laughed he realised how unfamiliar it felt, but foggily, he was certain his gratitude was real.

Later, back at home, he set the yellow Art Friend paper bag on his desk, and it caught his mother’s eye.

“Where did you get that from?” she asked, her tone breezy even as her eyes darted from her son’s wan expression to the new inclusion in his room.

“Daniel gave it to me,” he said, and though Maria tried to hide her relief, Shafiq noticed how her voice softened as she asked, “Birthday present?”

Only then did Shafiq realise – it had been his birthday.

Sleep crept over Shafiq that night, a slow exit from lucidity he had learnt to relish, rather than the immediate crashing – onto any available surface – from exhaustion. He felt his shoulder blades broaden and droop, felt the entire weight of his body press against the mattress, and when his eyes slid shut there were no sparks, no panic.

____________

Only at night, back at home, would Daniel allow himself to notice the soreness in his feet. They had begun swelling two weeks ago, imperceptibly at first, and then enough to make him loosen the laces on his Converse chucks, swap to Vans slip-ons, and then switch to Havaianas flip-flops as his shoes chafed uncomfortably against his tender feet.

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