Salvatore heard Jake's voice out on the street, and suddenly he felt shy. It was one thing to know he had captured the dragon exactly as he'd seen it, and to know that it was the perfect representation of how he knew Jake in that other place — that other world. It was very much another thing to wait, vulnerable and uncertain, to see if the big man would react the same way — if he would see it as Salvatore did. If he would be pleased.
There was no going back. What had been the slick black leather of the jacket was alive with color. The paint, which Salvatore had secretly feared might not dry properly or adhere to the jacket's surface, had hardened and sealed as if it were dye instead of paint. Where there should have been rough brush strokes, the color was smooth and seamless. Salvatore assumed that this was Martinez's doing, and he asked no questions. For better or worse, the jacket and the dragon were one. Heavy footsteps pounded just outside, and Jake's knock shook the frame of the door.
'Hey, Sally,' he said. 'You in there? You awake?'
For a moment, Salvatore stood still in confusion. He'd never had a nick name before, and he wasn't certain who Jake was talking to. Then the fog lifted and he hurried to the door. He couldn't find his voice, so he pulled it open and stood, staring. Jake grinned.
'Mind if I come in?' he said.
Salvatore blushed and stepped aside. Behind Jake a tall, thin blonde woman followed. She glanced around herself, as if she didn't trust the street, or the small shack she was entering. She glanced at Salvatore, and when she saw how nervous he was, she smiled. It changed her face completely, and Salvatore couldn't help smiling back.
'So, Sally' Jake said. 'Is it finished?'
Before Salvatore could answer that yes, it was finished, and that — if Jake did not mind — his name was not Sally, Jake rounded the table and he saw it. He stopped and stood very still, staring. The woman caught the expression on his face.
'Jake,' she said. 'Jake honey, what…'
She stepped around to stand beside him, turned toward the jacket and let out a soft gasp.
'Oh my God,' she said. She stepped back, and then again, bumping up against the edge of Salvatore's cot. She didn't trip, but she dropped back onto the simple mattress and brought a hand up to cover her mouth.
Jake reached out slowly and ran his finger over the leather. He didn't touch the dragon at first. He traced its lines, rolled along its sinuous curves. Salvatore stood and watched. He didn't yet know if Jake's reaction was positive. The woman was even harder to read. Salvatore watched her, not wanting to interrupt Jake, but desperate to know if he'd done the right thing — if his work would serve.
She was an attractive woman, slender with several silver bracelets on each wrist. Pendants hung from chains around her neck and her hair was pulled back in long braid. She wore blue jeans, a tight fitting T-shirt, and black boots. Salvatore had liked her since the moment she'd smiled at him, but now that smile had been wiped away by another expression. The shock on her face had drained all her color. He noticed that she had a tiny tattoo around her wrist. It was a bracelet made of tiny twined serpents. Dragons. In the center, on top, was a single word.
Jake.
Finally, shaking his head like he was rising up out of deep water, Jake stepped back, but not far. Half a step, maybe, as if he didn't want to be too far from the jacket. As he turned, Salvatore saw that the man's eyes streamed tears. His expression asked a question, and at the same time barely contained some deep emotion.
'How?' he asked. 'How could you have done this? In one night? You…'
The woman rose shakily to her feet and stepped forward, laying a hand on Jake's shoulder.
'It's beautiful,' she said. Her voice was as choked with emotion as his, and Salvatore had a sudden intuition. She loved this man, Jake, and she'd seen every bit of what Salvatore saw in the dragon. She loved it too. It was an awkward, yet wonderful moment of revelation.
'It is your dragon, Senor Jake,' Salvatore said. 'I have only painted what I've seen.'
'Is it dry? Can I…'
Salvatore nodded. He didn't know how it was possible, but he'd checked carefully. The paint was dry and sealed, as set as if it had been painted years before. Something told Salvatore it would take something truly powerful to remove the design, now that it existed.
Jake pulled the jacket off of the chair almost reverently. He held it at arm's length and stared at it. He held it up for the woman to see more clearly. She reached out slowly and stroked the dragon's back. When she did so, Jake arched his back and gasped. The two stood there a long moment, their gazes locked one on the other.
'Helen,' Jake said, 'would you do the honors?'
Salvatore tucked the name away carefully. Helen only nodded, but she took the jacket from Jake's hands and when he turned and held out his arms, she slid it on, first one side, and then the other. Jake shook once so that it settled onto his shoulders, and turned slowly. He could no longer see the dragon, but Salvatore thought he felt it. The man stood straighter. The jacket — Salvatore had seen it when Jake wore it in the day before, fit more perfectly, like a dark second skin. The room crackled with energy, and Jake, who was a big, burly man, seemed to move with a grace and strength that he had previously lacked.
'Sally,' he said, turning to face Salvatore. 'I… I don't know what to say. I saw what you did the other day on the sidewalk, and I thought — yeah — that would be cool on my leather. I expected — something else. I didn't know. I don't know what to say about this — what to think. It's…fucking amazing.'
Salvatore flushed with pride.
'I have only painted what I have seen,' he repeated. 'The dragon — it is beautiful.'
'It is,' Helen said, moving up to stand beside Jake. She seemed unwilling to let him move far from her side, She wrapped her arm in his, leaning against him so that the painted tail of the dragon brushed her ribs.
'How old are you?' she asked suddenly, turning back to Salvatore.
'I am fourteen, Senora Helen,' he said softly, glad he'd been able to remember her name. He tried to stand taller and held his shoulders back, but he was not tall for his age, and he was very thin. He didn't really know her, but he suddenly wanted this woman, this woman who so clearly loved his new friend Jake, to like him.
'And your name is Sally?' Helen asked.
'Salvatore,' he said softly. 'I am Salvatore Domingo Sanchez.'
She took this in, then slid reluctantly away from Jake and walked over and laid her hand on his shoulder. She looked him up and down, then scanned the small, shabby shack he called home, and shook her head in amazement.
'Well, Salvatore Domingo Sanchez,' she said. 'That,' she pointed at Jake's Jacket, but didn't look away from his eyes, 'is fucking amazing. I don't mean amazing like some kid with a can of spray paint who decorates the walls of buildings, or like some guy who drew the picture in the magazine and got the mail-order artist course. I mean… I've been to museums. I've seen things that are so incredible you can only stand and stare at them and wonder what kind of person could create them. Do you understand the kind of art that I mean?'
Salvatore nodded. He'd seen books, and the few times he'd been privileged to visit schools he'd learned about men with names like Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo. He had loved those paintings.
'This dragon,' Helen went on, 'is that kind of art. This dragon is very likely the finest…' her voice broke then, and she shook her head angrily, fighting for control. '…the finest single work of art that I have ever seen.'
'We are still talking about the jacket, right?' Jake asked softly.
She spun on him, and Salvatore thought she might take a swing, she was so angry. Then, when she saw his face, the anger broke like waves on a beach and she burst into almost hysterical laughter.
Jake stepped forward then and squatted down so that he and Salvatore were eye to eye.
'I don't say things like this very often,' he said, 'so listen up, and don't forget. Right?'
Salvatore nodded again. He wished he could get his voice to obey him, but he found that the moment sucked the air from his lungs. His heart pounded, and he sensed that something important was about to happen. Something that would change his life.
'There is no way I can pay this back,' he said. 'There is nothing that I have or expect to have that could make this — gift — square. You need something, anything, any time, you call me. This is as serious as it gets. This is the magic. When you grow up, when you meet guys like I've met — a woman like Helen, you'll know. You'll feel it, and you'll know. Until then, little bro, you've got me.'
Salvatore felt a huge lump in his throat and he pinched back the tears that threatened to pour down his cheeks. Helen saw it and knelt beside him, wrapping both Salvatore and Jake in a hug.
