Painting from Nantucket

I was back from Nantucket renting a room in Casey’s house. She told me she needed the room for her sister, Pamela, who was back from college. If needed, I was welcome to the couch and we would make things work. I had little money and had just spent a good chunk of it on my trip to Nantucket where I created my most recent painting, a fishing scene of a fishing seine. My attempt at humor. I sell my paintings at the gallery. Earlier I had dropped off a few paintings for a big auction on Friday, including the one just completed. Hopefully I would get something. I saw my painting in a gallery ad in the paper and it looked nice.

My friends said my paintings were good, but I was not well known, and they typically sold for around $250. After commission and taxes, I got about $150. Not even minimum wage, but enough to cover art supplies and keep me painting. For money, I worked as a waitress. The pay wasn't great, but it was steady.

That day I was moving out of my room. We'd pack up my stuff and store it in the garage. Then I'd start looking for someplace else. Casey came in with some boxes.

Casey: "I'm sorry about how things worked out, I can keep your stuff in the garage. It is quite dry there."

Me: "I understand. I stayed longer than planned. I can hit the roommates wanted section later this afternoon, and look throughout the weekend."

Casey - "I just feel bad about it."

Me: "Don't. Your commitment to your sister is important. Let's start with the books that I don't use a lot." This collection was mostly art instruction books, some novels and a pile of small black books bound in leather.

Casey: "What are all these little black books for?"

Me: "They’re part of my work! When I go out to paint, there is never enough time to complete a painting. Photographs don’t truly capture the experience and I use the books for quick sketches and notes. They capture information on the mood, shadows, light, and feel of the area. They also guide me to what the scene is about and help capture composition ideas. I can keep notes on the time, date and location, which helps when putting everything together when I am home working on the painting."

Casey picked up one of the black books and opened it. "I recognize these pictures! It’s that old farm house you painted when we were on vacation last summer."

Casey smiled as she flipped through the pages. “This is an archive of our entire trip! Look here's that smelly dog, and the old out-house. Remember how Pamela hated going in that thing?” Casey flopped back and smiled and laughed as she flipped through the book.

Me: “Here, this one contains images from the college we visited in September.”

Casey eagerly accepted the next black book, opened it and continued to laugh. “But I'm spending all our time looking at memories, when we need to pack.”

Me: “Why don’t you borrow the ones you like. I would only be storing them anyway. Just give them back when I find a new place.”

Casey: “Sounds like a plan.”

Casey grabbed a few black books, and we spent the morning packing the rest and moved them to the garage. Then we dug out a bottle of cheap wine and ordered pizza.

In the next few days, I searched for a place to live. I had no troubles finding wonderful places, and no troubles finding places which I could afford, just a correlation problem. None of the places I could afford were fit to live in. Casey said that I could stay on the couch as long as needed. I wondered how the auction went. $150 would help with a down payment. Casey said it would be fun to find out, so she joined me as we walked to the gallery.

Me: “Hi Sam! how did the auction go?”

“Best one yet!” Sam said with a bit of a mischievous smile.

Me: “Did any of my painting sell?”

Sam: “Yep, Two of them. Let me go get the receipt, check, and the remaining painting. Be back.” He walked off with a much larger grin then normal.

Two paintings! That should be around $300! I could add to my rent deposit and get more paint!

Sam came back, still grinning, with the unsold painting, and handed me two sheets of paper and an envelope. The receipt showed that the first painting sold for $240. My cut was $144. A quick glance at the second receipt showed I made $201.

Me: “$345! I’m rich!”

Sam: “You made a mistake. That's not $345. Look again.”

Upon closer inspection my cut for the second painting was not $201. I missed a few decimal points. My share was $20,126! The painting from Nantucket went for $34,000!” I didn't move at all. Just stood there, mouth open in shock. Unable to move.

Casey grabbed the receipt out of my hand. “I told you your stuff was good! Finally getting what you're worth!”.

Me: “Must be a mistake!”

Sam: “No mistake. I was there. The payment cleared and everything. Once the auction got started it just kept going. This well-dressed man on the right fighting it out with a lovely woman on the left. It was a beautiful thing to behold. In the end she made the highest bid. He looked a little frustrated, almost angry, pouted and walked off.”

Casey took the envelope out of my hand as I stood there dumbfounded. A cashier’s check for $20,270. $20 thousand more than I expected.

Casey: “Come on girl we are off to the bank!”

Sam gave us both hugs, congratulated me, and told me to take Casey’s advice. We got to the bank and made the deposit. I guess when you receive a large unexpected windfall you become a little paranoid, because it seemed to me like someone was following us.

Casey: “Why so quiet? You should be screaming your head off. You are finally a huge success.”

Me: “Well, that’s the problem? I just don’t understand it. I have sold many a painting but never for much more than what it costs to create them. Why did one sell for the typical price and the other for more than a hundred times that and the third not sell at all?”

Casey: “No accounting for people’s actions. I have always felt they were worth more than you got.”

Me: “But why the difference?”

Casey: “Oh! stop worrying and enjoy the success. I think you should take me out to dinner to celebrate.”

Me: “And dinner you will have! That French pace we always wondered about but could never afford. Call Pamela and see if she can join us.”

So, the three of us found ourselves in the French restaurant eating new and exotic foods.

Pamela: “I can’t understand how you can eat those things!”

Me: “Escargot? I always wanted to know what they were like. They’re really not bad although more buttery than I expected.”

Casey: “They’re not moving, are they?”

Me: “Of course not! How silly! Here, have some.”

Casey: “Oh no! That’s for you! I will stick with my cassoulet.”

Off in the corner a well-dressed and handsome man looked up at the laughter of the three girls.

Pamela: “Dee, why I do believe you have an admirer.”

I turned to see the man reading his menu. “Um, Pam you have a vivid imagination.”

Pamela: “Congratulations on your big sale. You must be very proud. We are.”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess I should be, but I am more confused about why?”

Casey: “Because you are talented! We have been telling you all along!”

Me: “The value of your artwork has very little to do with your talent and more to do with how well known you are. I’m simply not well known. So why the value, and why only one painting?”

Casey: “You are overthinking it. Just enjoy the success for a while.”

“That I am!” I exclaim while holding up a glass of wine. “That I am!” We clinked our glasses together and started to giggle.

Pamela wiped her lips and asked, “So what will you do with all that money?”

Me: “Well first I'll pay off what I owe Casey and my other debts. Then I'm going on the biggest art supply buying spree ever. I’m going to get that portable wooden easel, a full set of sable brushes and high-end Utrecht paints. And I can't forget I need some new Moleskins. When I was in Nantucket there was this lovely cabin up for rent. The landlord wants a 6-month lease, and it's in the most perfect location. Right in the middle of all of the places I was interested in painting. Six months to paint anything! If I can’t make it after that I should hang it up.”

Pamela: “Sounds exciting. We’re sure you will do well. But what is a Moleskin?”

Me: “It's a company that makes the best little black books. I will need some more.”

Pamela: “You have so many admirers that you need multiple black books? Dee I never knew you were so popular!”

Casey laughed and said, “No, Pam. Dee fills these books up with wonderful drawings and notes on everywhere she goes. She then turns them into paintings. You should see them. Dee let me borrow the ones from trips we took last year. The rest are in our garage. When we get home, I'll show you.”

The gentleman in the corner pulled out his own notebook and made an entry.

After that I paid my debt, and made arrangements to head back to Nantucket. The cabin I liked was still available. Casey volunteered to drive me to the art store as I planned to purchased more supplies than I could carry.

When we arrived back home, we discovered that someone had broken into the garage. The police felt it must have been teenagers as they only went through my boxes. Most of the books were tossed on the garage floor, except for my little black books which were missing. We had a discussion on the value of the books. The police felt that used notebooks were insignificant in value where I felt their theft was a great tragedy.

Stolen black books or not, I was excited about my trip. I still had my current black book, and the ones Casey took were safe. It was time to get a U-Haul van and make the move. Once I got to the cabin, I unloaded the U- Haul van and put some things away. After exchanging the van for a rental car, I headed to the grocery store, but ended up going out for some sea food.

The restaurant was empty except for a few locals. In one booth was the most handsome sheriff. Beautiful green eyes and a smile to die for. I smiled and picked up a menu.

Sheriff: “Be careful with the snapper I think it bites back.”

Me: “Thank you. I haven’t figured out what to order yet. What’s good?”

Sheriff: “I like the halibut.”

Me: “Sounds good I think I will try it.”

Sheriff: “I haven’t seen you here before. What’s your story?”

Me: “I’m Dee. I made a big painting sale and came back to paint some more and really get into the area. There is so much I saw before that I would love to try and capture in paint. This is a wonderful place for an artist.”

Sheriff: “My name is Dan. Let me know if you need anything while here. It's a pretty safe place for the most part.”

Me: “For the most part?”

Dan: “Well, we did recently discover a deceased individual. It looks like an accident but things aren’t adding up well and I'm just not sure. But you're not here to talk about my work. Tell me more about this painting you sold.”, said with a smile.

Me: “Thanks, it's a fishing scene of a fishing seine which I painted here in Nantucket. It sold for more than 100 times what I usually get. Which means I have money and time to really work on art."

Dan: “Do you have a copy of it you can show me?”

Me: “I don’t have any pictures of the painting, but I do have sketches I created when making it. They're in a book I left in the car. I’ll bring it next time.”

Dan: “That would be fun.”

The halibut turned out to be excellent, and the conversation interesting. Afterwards I returned to the cabin to unpack and put things away. I received a call from Casey. She wanted to make sure I was OK. That night she heard a prowler going through her house. Again, the only things missing were the black books containing my sketches as well as a paper with my new address. She felt something was odd and wanted to make sure I was ok.

The next morning was a beautiful May day, perfect for painting. I filled my new portable easel with paints and brushes, taking the coverings off each one in a ceremonial fashion and placing them each in the brush case. With my supplies all packed, I made a lunch to go and was off. The first spot I chose was the same pier where I created the fishing scene. I told myself that I was heading that way because ‘Why mess with success’ but part of me was just curious and drawn back to the spot.

Somehow everything seemed different. The boat which I painted was not there anymore and the style of fishing was.. well, different. I set up my easel and started playing with my new paints. I can’t tell you how much fun it is to work with really good paints! I quickly became mesmerized and the time flew by. The next thing I knew the Sun was low on the horizon which can make some wonderful shadows, but I was starting to get tired so I packed up and headed home.

When I reached the cabin, the door was wide open and the place a mess! I called the police and the responding officer was, to my delight, Sheriff Dan! Dan went in and verified that the cabin was vacant. As far as I could tell, nothing was taken, just gone through and scattered about. Dan looked at the door and recommended that I upgrade the locks.

I was shaken and offered Dan some coffee to settle my own nerves. Dan assured me that there's very little crime in the area and this was unusual. We talked and Dan told me of cases he was working on. Just yesterday one of the locals was found murdered in North Carolina. Karen Reynolds worked in a local bakery and was found shot to death near a port outside of Morehead City, NC. Dan was working with the North Carolina detectives. They had subpoenaed her bank records and discovered that she recently made a $34,000 purchase for artwork, which is very unusual for someone who works in a bakery, as it was practically her entire life savings. I remarked that it was an odd coincidence that it was the same amount someone had paid for mine.

Dan: “I thought you got $20,000?”

Me: “I did, but that is after the gallery fee. $34K was what was paid.”

Dan: “Very interesting. Did you say that you have sketches related to the paintings? May I see them?”

Me: “Yes. Let me get my black book out of my back pack.”

I reached into my back pack and pulled out the current black book which contained sketches for the Nantucket fishing painting.

Dan said, “Wow lovely sketches. I can see why it did so well!” Dan flipped through the pages, and stopped at an image of a boatmen pulling on a seine and looked a little puzzled. "I assume that you compose the picture with boats and things from different locations and such? Taking artistic freedom to combine different images.”

Me: “No everything there is just as I saw it.”

Dan: “But this boat is the Sailwater. First, it’s not a fishing boat but rather a recreation boat. And second the date listed here is April 12, and the Sailwater was down in North Carolina at that time.”

Me: “Wow! You know a lot about all of the boats here?”

Dan: “I don’t know about all of the boats, but the Sailwater is owned by Jason Timbers. He is the nephew of Bartholomew Timbers whose body we just found. Jason’s alibi is that he and his boat were in North Carolina when the accident occurred.”

Me: “What accident?”

Dan: “A fishing accident, Mr. Timbers fell off his boat, got tangled in the seine, and drowned. The odd part is we don’t usually fish with seines here and that using one is highly unusual.”

Pause

Dan: “The other disturbing thing is that Karen Reynolds was dating Jason Timbers. I become quite disturbed when two people connected to Jason end up dead. And you have proof that Jason’s boat was in Nantucket with a seine net at the time of death. You may have solved the case.”

Me: “I don’t know what to say.”

Dan: “It might be circumstantial. May I take this and show it to my fellow detectives?”

Me: “Sure”

Dan turned his focus to my cabin. Checked the windows and doors. Dan was not happy with how easy the lock popped and we ended up getting a new dead bolt from the hardware store. He told me to call if anything strange happens.

Dan: “I need to check some things out, but I will be back tomorrow. Don't open the door for anyone."

Me: "Yes! Sir!" I said with a mock salute.

Dan: "I'm not kidding. I don't like the looks of things."

Dan left with my black book. I got my things out of the car. I even remembered to pull the dead bolt. It was late but I needed to settle down a before I could sleep, so I made a warm cup of hot chocolate and took a second look over the different sketches and paintings which I had started. Some had at least a little hope of turning out Ok. I thought about color and shading strategies and where did I want the viewers eye to be drawn to. The standard sort of planning work. Then I heard a knock on the door.

A well-dressed young man stood on the porch looking a little worn. He seemed familiar, but I must have imagined that.

I yelled through the door, "May I help you?"

Man: "I know it's late, but my car broke down and my cell phone battery is dead. Can you let me in to call a tow truck? I would be forever grateful."

I remembered Dan's warning and said, "I can't let you in, but I can make the call for you. Do you know what tow company you want or should I just pick one?"

Man: "I really would prefer to come inside where it is warm. Please."

I'm usually a sucker for a good 'please', but not that night. "No. I'm afraid I can't do that. Only call for you."

Man: "OK then I will try next door. Thanks anyway." He walked away.

I felt a little bad, was I letting my phobias leave a stranded person out in the cold? But if his car was really broken down wouldn't he welcome the call I offered? I was more awake than ever, but couldn't focus, so I took my empty cup to the sink when I heard a loud crash and the back door swung open.

I ran to the front door, but it wouldn't open, the dead bolt was pulled. I tried flipping the dead bolt but flipped it the wrong way. By time I figured it out there was an arm around my neck pulling me back.

Jason: "You must be Dee. I am familiar with your work. I need you to show me where that little black book is."

I tried to say that I couldn't breathe, but I really couldn't breathe so nothing came out.

Jason: "You see, I'm my uncle's only heir and he just kept living. So, I kind of helped him out. But you had to go and make a painting of it. Without your stupid painting everyone would have believed that I was in North Carolina. Nothing connected me or my boat to Nantucket. I have to hand it to Karen. She's the first one to figure it out. She saw the painting in the auction ad. It's a shame too as she was a fun girlfriend. But true girlfriends don't out bid you and then use the painting for blackmail. I couldn't let that happen! What good would it be to inherit all the money if I just have to give it Karen?"

He pulled me as he walked around the room looking through things. He did let up enough so that I could breathe but still held tight.

Jason: "Now the remaining problem's that stupid sketch book. You need to tell me where it is."

He walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up a carving knife. "It won't be pretty if you don't tell me." I couldn't tell him that Dan had the book. That would only make him mad.

Me: "It's in a plastic bag in the other room."

He held me as I lead him to the living room. There was a large bag of art supplies which included the new moleskin books. "It's in the bag let me get it for you."

In the bag I grabbed a spray can of Krylon Fixative and sprayed it directly in his face. He howled and let go of me. Pulling his hands up to his face. I grabbed the lamp and swung it like a baseball bat and made full contact. He dropped to the floor.

An hour later Dan came out of the cabin with a blanket to wrap around me.

Dan: "Two of my officers will escort Mr. Timbers to the hospital and then to jail. But how did you manage to bind him all up like that?"

Me: "The number of uses for duct tape is amazing. Not only for projects but it does keep someone immobilized if needed."

Dan: "I am impressed. I will need you to come down to the station tomorrow for a statement."

Me: "Yes. I will be there. I guess that I am a little disappointed that the only reason my painting sold for so much was to use it for blackmail."

Dan: "Don't be. It still represents talent."

The next morning, I went to the station to make my statement. It was an overcast day which is great for painting but I was just not in the mood for painting when I got a call from Sam at the gallery.

Sam: "Dee can you bring the unsold painting by? I need some more of your work. Also, what else have you created?"

Me: "Casey's storing my unsold paintings. She can bring them to you, but what's up?"

Sam: "Well, dealers from across the country pay attention when a painting suddenly sells for a high price. Art critics have been analyzing your work and have determined that you're the next up and coming art sensation. My phone's been ringing off the hook, and I need to get a show together quickly. This looks like it's going to last."

And that is how I learned that success can start from the strangest of circumstances!