Silver Linings, стр. 52
“I thought you were getting by with that restaurant job I lined up for you.”
“I was. And it was really great of you to get me that job, Mattie, but they just didn't understand me there.” Shock Value leaned forward earnestly. “You know what? They actually canned me just because I came in late a few times. Can you believe it? I told them I'd been working all night in my studio and time had sort of gotten away from me, but the manager wouldn't listen.”
“I see.”
“Mattie, please. I'm working on some really strong stuff. I just need a little time and a little cash to carry me for a few weeks until I can finish it.”
“More stuff like Dead Hole?” Mattie nodded toward the piece on the floor.
Shock Value shock her chartreuse-fringed head impatiently. “No, no, that's all gone. I've worked through that period. I mean, it was useful and everything because it got me focused, you know? But now I'm working toward the important stuff. But I need to be able to work.”
“You should have spent your last ten bucks on food instead of supplies, Shock. You're getting too thin.”
“I don't care about food. I've got to be able to buy my materials. You know how expensive metal-working supplies are.”
“The whole point of getting you that job in the restaurant was so you wouldn't starve yourself for your art. That place allows the employees one free meal a day.”
“I know. But I usually missed it.”
Mattie groaned. “Have you looked into food stamps? Welfare?”
“Mattie, the government wants you to prove you're looking for work. I can't do that. I'm already working. My art is my work. I swear I'll go back to being a waitress just as soon as I finish the piece I'm designing now. I just need a few more weeks of freedom. I've got to get some cash. Fast. If you can't sell Dead Hole, could you at least make me a small loan?”
Mattie surveyed the piece Shock Value had brought with her. Dead Hole was one of several creations the young artist had done lately using wire, rusted iron, and used Styrofoam cups.
There was no doubt but that Shock Value's work was uniquely robust and filled with energy. Mattie had seen the possibilities in it right from the start. But the art was not quite ready to be born. Mattie knew that no matter how energetic it was, Dead Hole was never going to sell in her gallery. It had a power all its own, but it was the power generated by ugliness.
Still, one of these days Shock Value Frederickson was going to be brilliant, and in the meantime the woman had to eat.
“Will a hundred hold you for a while?” Mattie finally asked.
Shock Value nodded quickly. “Anything. You can keep Dead Hole as collateral.”
Mattie reached for her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk and took out the five twenties she had just picked up at the bank. “Here you go. You can take Dead Hole with you, but I want you to swear on your life that you'll let me have first crack at whatever it is you're working on now. Deal?”
“You got it.” Shock Value beamed in relief as she scooped up her metal sculpture and plucked the twenties from Mattie's fingers. “You won't regret this, Mattie, I promise. Thanks.”
Shock Value whirled and headed for the door of the small office with her usual frenzied energy. She nearly collided with Ariel, who was just about to enter.
“'Scuse me,” Shock Value mumbled, rushing past with Dead Hole clutched in her hands.
Ariel looked at Mattie. “How much did you give her?”
“A hundred.”
“You'll never see it again.” Ariel walked in and sat down in the chair Shock Value had just vacated.
Mattie put her purse back in the drawer. “I don't know about that. Shock's going to be very good one of these days. Maybe even commercial once she gets control of her talent. Her work has an edgy, vibrant quality that might translate very well into the sort of thing I can sell here at Sharpe Reaction.”
“You mean if she makes her work pretty enough to appeal to your middlebrow businessmen, shopkeepers, and computer-nerd clients?”
Mattie grimaced. “I know you don't have a high opinion of the sort of people who buy the work in my gallery, Ariel, but I could do without another lecture on the subject. Face it, I'm one of those hopeless cases who really does believe there's such a thing as good art for the masses. Like Mrs. Eberly says, why hang something in your living room that nauseates you whenever you look at it?”
Ariel's smile was bitter. “Yes, we both know your own tastes, don't we? But that's not really what I want to talk about.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Tell me, sister dear, do you like playing Earth Mother to my Castrating Bitch role? Personally, I'm getting a little tired of it. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave my men alone.”
“Oh, hell,” Mattie said. “It's going to be one of those unpleasant big sister versus little sister chats, isn't it? You know how I have those. You always win.” Mattie leaned precariously back in her chair and checked to see that there was water in the small hot pot sitting on the floor behind her. When she saw it was full, she switched it on.
“Mattie, this has gone too far.”
“You want some herbal tea and some oat bran muffins? I have a couple left over from breakfast.”
“For God's sake, Mattie, no, I do not want an oat bran muffin. How can you think about health food at a time like this? But that's you right to the core. I can't stand it. I have never been able to stand it. No one in the family can stand it. The rest of us vent our