The Royal Summit by Laura McGehee

Author:Laura McGehee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ABDO
Published: 2016-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Trevor knelt in heaps of trash in his impromptu studio space on the side of a peasant highway. He dug through pile after pile of discarded odds and ends, daintily placing each piece of waste to the side in pursuit of his objects of creation. T-Money was an artist, not an animal, and he would treat his pieces of inspiration as they deserved to be treated. The sun had nearly completed its descent, and Trevor had been madly working for the entire day. He had not eaten, slept, nor even stopped to use the restroom in his rush to express himself. He knew that he only had a fleeting window of inspiration, and only so long before the blood loss from his chest tattoo would certainly render him immobile. So he followed his vision in his mind’s eye and ignored his body for as long as he could. He felt utter weariness knocking on the door to his brain, but he knew that he was nearly done and could not stop now.

He had been stumbling along Highway 51 for several days now, hitchhiking when he could and never falling too far behind the Royal Family’s itinerary. He had only ever heard of highways in the twangy sort of songs that peasants sang, usually in a film featuring a car driving for far too long to hold anyone’s attention. Trevor had never understood the appeal of cars, not when there were Royal Horses to ride. But walking along this highway for four hours had shown him the horrible truth: Royal Horses didn’t exist in the peasant landscape, not even a little bit. He kept his eyes peeled for their telltale tiny nibbles in the grasslands, but could only find barren terrain and speeding cars that screeched louder than even Donna.

He had walked for days now—shirtless, shoeless, and trailing a steady stream of chest blood. D. Bones was always behind him, pushing him and propelling him toward his future with a well-timed quip or a barbed insult. The longer he walked, the less important his former reality became. So when he had stumbled upon an expansive trash pit in the fields of Mississippi, he wept with joy. It was perfect. It was beautiful. It would be the home of the sculpture that would solidify Trevor’s place as an artistic legend.

This was what he had been looking for. This had been his purpose this whole time, and his whole life. Every trash sculpture he had deposited up till this point was pure and utter garbage in comparison to this beauty. He was made to be in this trash, to roll around in this trash, and to bring this trash to life. He dove, quite literally, headfirst into a pile of old computer parts and began to work. He pulled out frayed toothbrushes, discarded socks, bags of smelly garbage, old tires, misshapen pieces of plastic, six empty pizza boxes, two half-chewed recliners, and a whole host of various trash trinkets, ranging from bubble gum wrappers to Styrofoam that had been stained with what smelled like blood.

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