This poem is spillover from the November 1, 2022 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from
janetmiles. It also fills the "Young Adult" square in
my 11-1-22 card for the Drabble Fest Bingo. This poem belongs to the
Big One and
Shiv threads of the
Polychrome Heroics series.
Now complete!
This poem is on layaway, sponsored in sections by
janetmiles. (Double price for research, so $1/line.) It is not an open epic, thus not in need of other donations to reveal more verses. New sections will appear once a month for ten months.
A Haven That Purifies Emotions
[Tuesday, May 31, 2016]
Shiv looked up at Hanson Hall.
It was a big brick building with
its first floor sunken on this side and
level with the sloping ground in the back.
Inside it had all kinds of different shops
and activity centers, along with rooms
you could rent for various purposes
such as the art and music studios.
Shiv had just put three musician friends
from California in his efficiency apartment
at the Abbot Center for Public Housing.
The brothers, Tyrone and Moreese Dembele,
wanted to find a place of their own, so that'd
leave the efficiency for Matthew Adams.
Shiv had used that apartment mostly as
an art studio, since he had only gotten it
as part of his prison release planning.
Now he needed to find a new art studio
to rent, and this place seemed promising.
As Shiv watched, a rainbow-painted van
pulled up. Black letters along its side
spelled out, Happy Hippie Jew Bus.
A young man jumped out. He wore
long dreadlocks and a tie-dyed shirt with
a lot of chunky jewelry and somewhere
in there a pendant of a six-pointed star.
From the other side, an older woman
with bright red hair climbed out. She
started setting up a sidewalk table.
The man ambled over to Shiv, held out
a Greenbucks card, and said, "You
look frazzled. Want some money?"
"What on earth for?" Shiv said.
"I'm Simcha Inbar, and there is
my manager Davette Ezer," he said.
"We both work at the Generous Jew
in the Tikkun Olam Collective, doing
direct donations among other things.
Lots of people are feeling rough
after the Big One. Money helps."
"O ... kay. I'm Shiv," he said slowly.
"But I'm not from California. I've just
helped some friends who are. I'm
letting them crash in the place I
used to use as an art studio, so
I'm looking to rent a new one."
"Well, that's extra work on you,
yeah?" said Simcha. "So buy
something fun to make up for it.
Generosity makes life easier."
Shiv cocked his head.
That sounded ... different.
He'd heard a lot of smack talk
about Jews, mostly that they
were greedy and conniving.
Then again, he'd also heard
smack talk about black people
and supervillains and what-all else,
that wasn't necessarily so either.
Come to think of it, he'd heard
some of that in the Smack House,
which meant it was probably as
backasswards as everything
else they ever said there.
Besides, money was money.
"Yeah, okay," Shiv said,
and took the card. "Thanks."
"So, you're looking for a studio?"
Simcha said. "They've got
some good ones upstairs, and
Hanson Hall is full of cool stuff.
I could show you around a bit."
"You're not busy with your ..."
Shiv waved a hand at the table.
"... whatever you're doing there?"
"I can hand out money anywhere,"
said Simcha. "Besides, it's fun
to show new folks the building."
"Sure, why not," Shiv said. He
tucked the Greenbucks card in
his wallet. "I may as well look
around to see what else is here."
Simcha led the way to a small door
that stood under a tall mural of ...
Shiv stared up at it. Couldn't be.
"You like Breakdancing Jesus?"
Simcha said. "He's pretty neat."
Okay, it really was what it looked like:
Jesus doing a one-armed handstand,
loincloth flapping, nappy hair swinging.
"Awesome," Shiv said, and followed
Simcha through the glass door.
The smell hit him first, intense
with spices and ... tobacco?
"So this here is the lobby for
the Buddy Christ Church and
Bong Shop," Simcha said. "On
the left are the smoking herbs
and on the right are the pipes.
The worship rooms are ahead."
Shiv didn't smoke near as much
as he used to, but he might check
the shop just for old time's sake.
There were tubs and boxes in
the hallway with a sign that read,
Nonperishable Food Donations,
and a little statuette of Buddy Christ
standing guard over the goods.
"Yeah, they collect food too,
but the actual food pantry is
over here," Simcha said, pointing.
Shiv looked at the sign and laughed.
It read, Fuck Yeah Loaves and Fishes.
"Are they for real?" he asked.
"They sure are," said Simcha.
"This place is always busy."
Shiv couldn't resist peeking
inside. The waiting room was
full. It also had a piece of
three-dimensional wall art
of ... a garden gnome with
live salmon and bread rolls?
Still snickering, Shiv followed
Simcha deeper into the building.
"This is our place," Simcha said,
ushering Shiv into a suite of rooms.
"Welcome to the Tikkun Olam Collective."
The first room looked like an office,
crammed with bookcases and
knickknacks. The door had
a whiteboard with something
written in funny squarish letters.
"That's the main office, and this is
the Generous Jew," said Simcha.
"We do fundraising, direct donations,
microgrants, and community outreach."
That room had bulletin boards full
of projects, and a meeting space
with couches and floor cushions.
Working at a computer desk was
a girl with the most vivid hot pink hair
that Shiv had ever seen. It seemed
to glow with an iridescent sheen.
"Shiv, this is Rozeve Pave,"
said Simcha. "She works here
and at Ruth and Naomi's Place."
"That's our queer support service,"
Rozeve Pave said, pointing to it.
Shiv looked. That room only had
a computer desk, a chair, and
a few filing cabinets but the walls
were covered with queer and
Jewish and many other flyers.
"I'm ace," Shiv said. "It's
good to have support."
Rozeve Pave brightened.
"Well, drop by if you need
anything," she said. "We're
Jewish but not just for Jews,
everyone is welcome here."
Yeah, Shiv was getting
that impression. It was
weird, but he kinda liked it.
"King Solomon's Library,"
Simcha said of the next room.
It had that old-book smell,
spice and vanilla, like cookies
in the oven a minute too long,
and it was full of bookcases.
"A clothes store?" Shiv said,
looking through another door.
"Clothing bank," said Simcha.
"This is Rebecca's Closet. Most
of the stuff is Jewish or bohemian,
but it's open to anyone in need."
"I should probably clean out
my closet soon," Shiv mused.
He had spent the last few days
shoveling out the storage building
next door to Blues Moon so folks
could make use of the stuff.
Too many people had fled
the West Coast with nothing
but the clothes on their backs.
"We take donations from
everyone too," Simcha said.
"Okay, last of our rooms, this
is Shomrei Adamah. It means
Guardians of the Earth, and
does environmental activism."
"That's cool," Shiv said, looking
at all the potted plants and posters
about various ways to save the planet.
"Prayer room here, then the dottie,"
Simcha said of the last two doors.
"You've got a nice little suite here,"
said Shiv. "Interesting neighbors too."
"So let's see," Simcha said as they
headed down a different hallway,
"you came to rent an art studio,
which means you'll want to see
the art places on this floor."
"Yeah, the website mentioned
a gallery and stuff," said Shiv.
"The Global Hope Gift Shop has
the main store and gallery rooms
for larger displays," said Simcha.
Shiv had to stop and breathe for
a moment. The store wasn't huge,
but it was crammed with about
a zillion brightly colored things.
In contrast, the art gallery
was a soothing place
with plain white walls
and smooth gray floors.
"This is all open to
Hanson Hall members,
but it's easier to get some
of your stuff into the gift shop,"
said Simcha. "The gallery
is a lot more competitive."
Shiv shrugged. "That's
not what I'm really here for,"
he said. "I might shop, though."
"Fair enough," said Simcha. "If
you need supplies, check out
Ella's Arts and Crafts Emporium."
Shiv took one look at the huge room
full of goodies, then spun on his heel.
"Nope. I set one foot in there, and
I'll lose an hour at the very least."
Simcha chuckled. "Yeah, I know
that feel," he said. "I'm the same way
with Dharma Trading dyes and stuff."
Considering the way he dressed,
Shiv could certainly believe that.
Simcha did drop a Greenbucks card
in the Starving Artist Supply jar, though.
"Here's the Performance Corner
and the Brown Lounge," said Simcha.
"Buskers can book space there."
It was currently empty, but
looked like a good pitch.
"I play a bit, but not usually
in public yet," Shiv admitted.
"Okay, the last of the main spots
on this side are Omaha Wheels and
the Primp & Pamper Beauty Salon
and Bodycare Shop," said Simcha.
"Omaha Wheels, that's the bike shop?"
Shiv said, thinking back to the website.
"Yeah, they also do skates and scooters,"
said Simcha. "You can take classes
on maintenance and repair, too."
"There's a thought," Shiv said,
looking through the store window.
The Finns had gotten him onto
a wobble board, a skateboard,
and eventually a bicycle -- though
he couldn't really claim confidence
on any of those things just yet.
Well, at least it hadn't gone
as badly as the motorbike, but
that was before he met the Finns.
Shiv wasn't at all interested in
the beauty parlor, which reeked
of twenty different perfumes.
They looped back around,
and Simcha pointed out
the Canteen, which had
food and drinks and lots of
places for people to hang out.
"They have pastries, sandwiches,
coffee, smoothies, all kinds of stuff,"
said Simcha. "They also take
work-trade if folks are broke."
"Good to know," Shiv said.
The place smelled delicious.
"Here's the main lobby, and that
leads to the administrative offices,"
Simcha said. "Want me to walk you in?"
"Yeah, that'd be nice," Shiv agreed.
Some places, it helped to know
people who already rented there.
The office suite was a quiet place
with putty-colored walls and carpet,
divided by brightly tinted sections of
fake mahogany to make smaller offices.
Simcha leaned over the reception desk
and chatted up the secretary for a minute,
then waved for Shiv to follow him back.
The manager's office was nice, with
real wooden desks and filing cabinets,
and leather chairs that were comfortable
instead of the crappy plastic kind.
"Shiv, this is Sudarshina Lee,
manager of Hanson Hall, who
herds the cats around here,"
Simcha said. "Sudarshina,
this is my friend Shiv who'd
like to rent an art studio."
Shiv couldn't help smiling
at the black woman who sat
behind the executive desk.
She had her hair all done up
in tiny braids, and she wore
a gorgeous robe covered in
vivid African geometry that
reminded him so much
of Dr. G's silly sweaters.
She also had a pendant and
earrings of dichroic glass that
glinted with greens and blues like
the lime and turquoise in her robe,
and made his fingers itch to touch them.
Sudarshina smiled back at him and said,
"You sure look like a good fit here."
Shiv looked down at himself. He
wore charcoal jeans and a gray T-shirt
with a palette below the words, I arted.
"Uh yeah, I hope so," he said. "I gave
my old place to some friends from
California and now I really need
to find myself a new studio."
"Well, why don't we go upstairs
and look at the current openings?"
said Sudarshina. "I'm afraid there
aren't a lot of choices right now, and
you won't have much time to make
a decision, because demand is up."
"I can deal," Shiv said. "I'd like
to see what's available, please."
"An artist's studio is a haven
that purifies emotions through
the evocation of fear, stimulation
of thought, and interaction,"
said Sudarshina. "I hope
we can find you a good fit."
"Yeah, me too," Shiv said softly.
"Then I'll leave you to it, and
I hope we'll be building-neighbors,"
Simcha said, and let himself out.
Sudarshina picked up a fist-sized set
of several dozen keys. "Let's go."
"Okay," Shiv said, and trotted
along just behind Sudarshina.
Something about her, about
this building, just made him
relax the way few places did.
Blues Moon was like that. Shiv
always felt happier anywhere
with mixed faces. More at home.
Yeah, that was it. Hanson Hall
felt like home to him somehow.
He wasn't used to finding places
that seemed so warm and welcoming.
He really hoped the studios were decent.
"Stairs or elevator?" Sudarshina said,
waving a hand at the elevator lobby.
"Stairs," Shiv said. "My legs work
fine. Best leave the elevators for
the people who really need them."
"Good answer," Sudarshina said
as they started climbing. "So,
what kind of art do you do?"
"Drawing and painting,
metalwork and glasswork,"
Shiv said. "Whatever else
catches my interest too."
"Right, then we're swinging
through the second floor
so that you know where
the clinic is," she said.
If Shiv had a problem
bigger than he could fix
with a first aid kit, then he
sure as hell wasn't going
to rely on some stranger
working at a random clinic.
He'd to go to the folks he knew
at Freeman's Family Hospital,
or Molly, or Heron -- people
who could do things right.
He didn't need more shit
like what had happened
before with Turtledove.
Then again, he also didn't
need to pick a fight with
his building manager.
"Whatever," Shiv said.
"There's the Wunderbar,
and the Blue Lounge by it
is good for casual gatherings,"
Sudarshina said, pointing.
Shiv wasn't interested in
the bar, but the lounge
made him stop and stare.
It had lots of comfy chairs
and couches along with tables.
It also had one whole wall lined
with bookcases that held all kinds
of knickknacks, vases, and stuff.
"What is all this?" he asked. He'd
never seen anything quite like it.
"Still life and upcycling materials,"
Sudarshina said, pointing out
a sign with just those words.
"Take a piece, leave a piece."
"Can I ... play with something?"
Shiv said. His fingers were
itching again. "Real quick?"
"Sure, go ahead," she said.
Shiv grabbed a jar full of
old silverware. He didn't
need to make anything fancy,
just something that would be fun
to draw and keep his hands
from getting into trouble.
He picked out two spoons
and three forks, then twisted
the handles off of them.
The two spoon bowls
became an oval body.
Two of the forks became
little legs, and the last one
split in half turned into claws.
Now Shiv just needed eyes.
Scanning the shelves again,
he spied a bowl of mixed beads
and found two metal ones that
he stuck on top of the body.
When he held out the figurine,
Sudarshina laughed and clapped
her hands. "It's a crab!" she said.
"Yep," Shiv said, setting it on a shelf.
"And it'll last longer than a real one."
"Well, that's certainly true," she said.
"You have a wonderful gift, Shiv."
"Thanks," he said. "I try to keep it
busy with something constructive."
"Don't we all?" said Sudarshina.
"One reason we have so much
public art space here is to keep
creative fingers out of mischief."
Mentally Shiv put a big checkmark
in his "maybe won't kick me out" box.
"Yeah, that's familiar," he said.
"Nice to know I'm not the only one."
They walked out of the Blue Lounge,
and Shiv scanned the walls for
more items of possible interest.
A big purple sign snagged
his attention. Looking closer,
he saw that the poster's text read,
Ace Adoptive Parents Association:
You make 'em, we take 'em!
Shiv glanced at the cluster
of people sitting nearby, but
none of them wore ace flags.
Curious, he skimmed over
some of the other flyers.
Free birth control inside.
Have a good night!
You have sex questions?
We have sex answers.
Well, ew. He didn't need that.
Yes! We support pregnant men,
teen fathers, and other involved males.
Might've been useful to Cas a couple of
years ago, and yeah, there was a flyer for
the Magdalen Village and Gabriel's Place.
That made Shiv look up at the sign naming
the actual organization: All Life Is Precious.
"Oh. One of those Christian places
about mistake babies," he said.
"Not exactly," said a girl in
a vividly colored silk outfit.
"We're not all Christian, and
it's not just about one thing."
"What then?" Shiv said.
"My name is Aaushi Gupta,
and I'm a Jain," she went on.
"I don't eat root vegetables
because they kill the whole plant
and tiny organisms in the soil."
"I'm Akiva Cowen and I'm a Jew,"
said a man in a rainbow hat and stole.
"We've lost enough people already."
"Harlow Charlie," said the man
in a fringed leather jacket. "I'm
Sauk-Suiattle, same here."
"I'm Werner Bridges, and
I have Down syndrome,"
said the man in a navy suit.
"My friend Noelie Sheffield
is a sheep primal. People
abort enough of us already."
"I ... guess I didn't think about
any of that," Shiv admitted. "I'm
used to the sign-waving nutjobs."
Heron had begged a favor from him,
once, because the protesters were
harassing a clinic and they needed
all the muscle that they could get.
Listening to those people had
just been embarrassing.
Some of them had been
wearing costumes, and it
made real supervillains look
bad by visual association.
"We don't rent to nutjobs here,"
Sudarshina said firmly. "We expect
our members to live and let live."
"I'm smooth with that," Shiv said.
After all, they had an ace sign up.
They probably weren't too pesky.
Besides, they looked kinda interesting.
"We're pretty flexible," Aaushi said,
waving at hand down the hallway.
"You don't mind being next door to ..."
Shiv read from the bulletin board,
"... the Satanic Church of Informed
Consent Center for Life Choices?"
"No, Hanson Hall is all about
tolerance," said Werner. "We
can't get that just anywhere, and
neither can they. So we get along."
"Besides, they provide services
that we don't," Aaushi said. "It's
all on the signs, so folks can pick
whatever appeals to them, and
that means less times having
to talk about stuff that someone
would really rather not get into."
"Yeah?" Shiv said. "What
about folks who it's not safe
for them to be pregnant?"
Aaushi sighed. "We can't risk
their lives either, so we still
have to ... refer them out for
life-saving services," she said.
"We're trying to find a healer
who can do prebirth transfers,
but they're really rare and
we haven't had any luck yet."
"It's super complicated,"
Shiv said, because he
had heard Heron and Turi
going on about it. "Give me
your card and I'll pass it around.
I know some healers, and they
might have connections."
"Thank you," Aaushi said
as she handed him a card.
"I'm glad to see you connecting
with other renters," said Sudarshina.
Shiv looked at the little cluster of
oddballs. One corner of his mouth
curled up. "Like you said, I kinda fit."
It felt weird to find so many people
that he liked, because usually he
just didn't like people very much.
Something about Hanson Hall
just appealed to him. Maybe
these other folks felt the same,
maybe it just attracted the kind
of weirdos who'd get along.
Yeah, he could work with that.
"You do fit," said Werner. "You're
not even staring at me and Noelie."
"Yeah, no, I know a lot of soups,"
Shiv said. "Plus I had a foster brother
with the Down thing, who was quiet
and didn't bug me. I'm smooth with it."
"Other soups ..." Harlow snapped
his fingers. "You're Little Lynx!
The one with a gift for hard things."
"Ah yeah, the Omaha call me that,"
Shiv said. "I thought you were ...
Seattle-whatsit? Something else."
"I'm Sauk-Suiattle, my wife is Omaha,"
said Harlow. "All of the women from
my own tribe were too closely related."
"Ugh, that sounds awful," Shiv said.
"Ben says some coastal tribes are tiny."
"So you can see why I would rather
not lose any more," Harlow said.
"That's why I do fundraising here,
to support people who couldn't
otherwise afford to have a baby."
"Yeah, I get it," Shiv agreed.
"I read some of the history.
The pool's already too small."
He'd heard Heron talking about
how things could go wrong if
relatives mated. That was for
the flying rats, but Shiv felt
pretty sure humans shouldn't
do that sort of thing either, and
not just because it was gross.
"My people have similar problems,"
Akiva said. "Jews have been stuck
in small groups more than once, even
before the Shoah. So now we have
higher risk of some genetic diseases."
A woman ambled over to the group,
her long dark hair blending with
the frills on her black dress.
She leaned down to say
something to Werner,
then wandered off again.
"That's my wife Esmerée,"
Werner explained. "She has
a studio here, but she's a model
as well as an artist. She just
let me know that she's working
late tonight for a sitting, so
we'll eat supper here."
"She's really pretty,"
Shiv said. "Whoever
booked her is lucky."
"Yes, but sometimes
Esmerée poses for
the group studios too,"
said Sudarshina. "Just
watch the schedules."
Shiv looked at Noelie.
"Do you ever model for
artists?" he wondered.
"The wool texture would
be interesting to draw.
Noelie typed on her phone,
her fingers fine and human
despite a head that looked
pretty sheeplike. Then she
turned it around for Shiv.
I don't like when people
stare at me, the text read.
"Totally fine," Shiv said. "Not
everyone is comfy with that.
Me, I don't like people taking
my picture because too many
used to pick on me that way."
I look like this because
my mother took drugs to get
pregnant, Noelie wrote. She
couldn't do that otherwise.
So genetic disease relates to
this in more ways than one.
"Yeah, I heard about
street drugs that do that,"
Shiv said. "It's bad enough
when it just affects the users,
but the kids -- nobody wants 'em."
My mother kept all six of us, and
our older brother who looks human,
Noelie wrote. She just got overloaded.
Now I want to work with primal children
so they can have better lives. Babysitting
for now, a daycare or community later.
Shiv dug out his wallet. "Email here,
tell them I sent you and what you want
to do," he said. "Just, you know, wait
a week or two because Soup to Nuts is
in California and crazy-busy right now."
Harlow and Werner both flinched.
"Are your people okay?" Harlow said.
"My tribe, we lost some, and not
everyone has logged in yet."
"My whole college is gone,"
Werner said sadly. "University
of Washington in Seattle. I'm
lucky I didn't lose family though."
"My family is okay," said Shiv.
"Soup to Nuts is in Mercedes,
barely a shimmy there. It's just
swamped with refugees and stuff."
"Could I get a card too?" Akiva said.
"The Tikkun Olam Collective is taking
donations to help earthquake victims
and aid workers. We need contacts
out west for somewhere to send them."
"Yeah, here," Shiv said, passing him one.
"Again, tell 'em I sent you. They uh, can
probably send out a teleporter to pick up
donations. They're short of everything."
"Then I hope we can help," said Akiva,
"especially if they have pregnant people
who need supplies or a place to stay."
"Probably," said Shiv. "Soup to Nuts
is an emergency response hub. If you
got space to put people, mention that."
He looked at Noelie. "Particularly if
you can handle superpowers."
"We will," Akiva said. "We have
an exam room, it's not much but
we've started collecting materials
for soup clients now that Noelie
is looking for other primals."
"The Holistic Health Center
is more developed but not
equipped for soups yet,"
Sudarshina added. "We'd
like to improve that, though."
"Yeah, you wanted to show me
that clinic," said Shiv. "I don't
mean to keep getting sidetracked,
it's just this place is so cool."
Sudarshina chuckled. "I'll take
that as a compliment," she said.
"Why don't we move on for now,
and then you can come back later
to chat more with your new friends?"
Shiv looked around, startled, but they
were actually all smiling at him, even
Noelie with her funny sheep face.
"Yeah, I'd like that," he agreed,
and waved goodbye to them.
Sudarshina led the way to
where the hall branched off
toward different office suites.
"Okay, the Holistic Health Center
offers a variety of conventional and
alternative health care. They have
an exam room and a procedure room,
plus a lot of healthy touch providers
and counselors," said Sudarshina.
"I wanted you to know since you
work with risky art materials."
"Useful to know," Shiv said,
reading the sign, "but that art
is not dangerous for me."
"You've never nicked
yourself by accident?"
Sudarshina asked.
"Not with art, and not
after I got superpowers,"
Shiv said. "I can control
sharp things so I don't."
"What about burns?"
said Sudarshina.
"I don't use heat
to make things, well,
not here," Shiv said.
"Only when Tolli invites
me out to his forge, and
then he's supervising."
"Ah well, at least now you
know where the clinic is if
someone else needs it,"
she said philosophically.
"I like healthy touch, well,
some of it," Shiv said. "So
that might come in handy."
If he could find someone
willing to lean on him as hard
as the one back at prison had,
but hey, he might get lucky.
"Okay," said Sudarshina.
"The rest of this floor is mostly
offices that people can rent.
The open areas are available
to all members, though, in case
you need a computer room or desk."
"That's handy," Shiv said. "So,
where are the artist studios?"
"Up another floor," she said,
and they went back to the stairs.
"You might want to check out
the fourth floor later too. It
has dance and workout rooms,
the Makeba Music Center,
and some family facilities.
The fifth floor is mostly
different meeting spaces."
"Yeah, I like music too,"
Shiv said. "I work over at
Blues Moon, a jazz joint."
"I've gone there a few times,"
said Sudarshina. "Good food and
good music. All right, the third floor
has the Coexist Community Kitchen
and some other event spaces."
Shiv lifted his head, sniffing.
"It smells good," he said.
"Someone's baking bread."
"They do a lot of classes with
different breads," Sudarshina said.
"The Reading Room has books
on all kinds of creative topics."
Shiv peeked inside. It had
a table and chairs, shelves for
swapping books, and one wall
lined with bookcases holding
all kinds of arts and crafts titles.
"I'm not a big reader," Shiv admitted.
"I might drop by here later, though."
"There are coffee table books and
craft pattern books," Sudarshina said.
"You're not the only visual thinker."
"Oh yeah, artists," Shiv said.
"I guess that makes sense."
"The Community Arts Space
holds classes and workshops,"
said Sudarshina. "It's not huge,
but it does have its own sink
along with tables and chairs."
"Uh huh," Shiv said, staring
at the mostly-filled schedule
half of which was stuff that he
would love to catch if he could.
"The Open Studio is available
to all members," said Sudarshina.
"Folks can rent storage space here
if they can't afford a whole studio.
Work space is first come, first served,
but it only fills during the peak hours."
That was just a huge room crammed
with art carts, easels, and stools --
about half of them occupied now.
"I'd rather have my own space,"
Shiv said. He didn't always feel
comfortable working around others.
"That's fine," said Sudarshina. "We
offer several sizes of private studio for
rent. They're past the themed ones."
"Themed ones?" Shiv echoed.
"How do those studios work?"
"They are rooms with equipment
for specific types of art," she explained.
"For instance, the Nude Studio has --"
Shiv skidded to a halt. "Not interested!"
"Okay, then you know where it is so
you can avoid it," she said easily.
"The Anatomy Studio has models
of skeletons, muscles, and such."
"Cool," Shiv said. It even had
a skeleton hung from the ceiling.
"I'm sure you'll want to explore
the Sculpture Studio in depth later,"
said Sudarshina. "It has classes
on clay, soapstone, metalwork,
and a variety of other media."
The current group was working
on clay, but yeah, the schedule
had all kinds of other stuff.
"I'm not a fan of clay, but
stone or metal, yeah,"
Shiv said. "Thanks."
"The Nebraska Spinsters
have a whole suite of rooms
for fibercrafts," said Sudarshina.
"Yarn," Shiv said happily, bouncing
on his toes. "I may know some folks
from Yarn Over or the fiber fair. I'll
have to come back and look around."
"I'm glad you're finding so much
of interest here," said Sudarshina.
"The middle is all private studios,
then the far end has a nap room
as well as the Rainbow Lounge."
"Yeah, I want to see the --
oh hell no," Shiv said.
The private studios
were the size of closets.
"We have a couple of
medium studios available,"
Sudarshina said, walking on.
Those were the size of bedrooms,
but very small bedrooms at best.
"I could just barely fit my stuff
in here, but then I couldn't move
around much," Shiv grumbled.
"Okay, if these studios aren't
to your taste, we also have
the shared studio where people
rent cubicles," said Sudarshina.
Shiv wrinkled his nose. "Don't
you have anything bigger?"
he said. "I was working
in an efficiency apartment."
"We only have one big studio
available, but that costs almost
as much as an apartment,"
Sudarshina warned him.
"Let's see it," Shiv said.
"I can probably afford it."
"Here you go," she said
as she unlocked a door.
It was a big square room
that looked like it might've
been made by merging
two smaller rooms.
Built-in racks and
shelves lined some
of the wall space.
There was a chair
and a computer desk,
plus a huge workbench.
Shiv could put his glass
and metal on the workbench,
then arrange his easels and
paints around the desk.
He'd have half the space
left over to put a hide-a-bed,
a table, and a kitchenette made
from countertop appliances.
Then he saw the far corner.
"Holy shit, it has a sink!"
Shiv exclaimed. It was
the big restaurant kind,
too, with three deep basins
and a counter on each end.
"You like this?" said Sudarshina.
"It's perfect," Shiv said. "So what
will it take to get me into this?"
"Well, that depends," she said,
showing him a studio price list.
"If you can pay up front, you just
give me the money and I hand
you the key. If you want to go
through a bank, then we have
to do the whole account check
and a bunch more paperwork."
"Up front," Shiv said, taking out
his wallet for the Greenbucks card
that he'd loaded for this project.
He had budgeted for as much
as an efficiency apartment, and
this wasn't quite that expensive.
Plus the building had a ton
of other stuff that came free
with any rental, like use of
the open areas, and classes
that didn't have a material fee.
It had people he liked, who
were weird enough not to flip
over his superpowers, and ...
it just felt like home, honestly.
Sudarshina took out her phone
and slid the card through a groove
on the side. "How long do you
want the studio for? Big ones
rent in one-month blocks."
"Three months," Shiv said.
"Things are crazy now, I don't
want to have to worry about
this again in just a few weeks."
They finished the transaction,
and she handed him the key.
"Congratulations," she said.
"I hope you find this inspiring."
"A haven that purifies emotions,"
Shiv said, quoting back at her.
Then his stomach growled.
"Go, swing by the Canteen
or somewhere and get lunch,"
said Sudarshina. "Art is great,
but don't forget to eat and sleep."
"You don't mind people sleeping
here?" Shiv said. That'd be handy
for when he lost track of the time.
"That's what the nap room is for,"
said Sudarshina. "Folks who rent
a room sometimes add a couch
so they can crash. Living here isn't
encouraged, but starving artists do
what they have to in order to get by."
"Okay, great," Shiv said. "I'll grab
lunch, then see about moving
my stuff here from the old place."
He had promised the guys to get
his art things out from underfoot
as fast as possible, and so they
might even help him move it.
Thene Shiv hustled toward
the Canteen while Sudarshina
headed back to her office.
The fragrant smells
made his stomach
growl even more.
Shiv figured that
he could simply use
the Greenbucks card
Simcha gave him.
Even though Shiv
wasn't broke anymore,
he still appreciated the gift.
Looking at the menu, he
saw they had a salmon BLT.
Wait. What. He looked again.
They had a salmon BLT sandwich.
Yep. This was the perfect place.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character (
musicians,
first floor Part 1,
first floor Part 2,
second floor Part 1,
second floor Part 2,
second floor Part 3), setting (
first floor,
second floor,
third floor,
fourth floor,
fifth floor), and
content notes appear separately.