Eraser :: 03

Eraser :: 03

They had been coming back to the underpass for almost a week now. Every night the wall was erased. The trio came back every day to an open and receptive canvas. At first it was irritating, but the more time they spent there, they realized that they got to experiment with their own hand. They ate up more paint in that one week than they had in some months- but they enjoyed every moment of it. They stole style points from one another, and when all was siad and done, the trio packed up everything and returned home. They spent as much time as they could there- adn the police never showed up to hound on them.

It was after this week that Ricardo got that look in his eye. "Let's not leave."

They had already packed up. It was dark. Courtney was tired already, and Dustin was dying for a shower. Ricardo still pressed the idea of staying. Dustin shook his head and closed up his pack. "What for?"

"I wanna see who's clearing all this." Ricardo's wide expression was too much. "It's increadible. Whoever it is, they picked me-, well, they picked us to get better at it! They're teaching us without actually teaching. It's a class we can't fail! Is it wrong I want to see who out teacher is?"

"Not wrong." Courtney smiled. "Just a bit creepy and out of character."

Ricardo backed up. Dustin threw his pack over his shoulder. Ricardo was on the verge of protest, but Dustin put up his hand. "I don't want to hear it. What maks you think that sticking around is a good idea? We have something good. Don't ruin it."

"Aw, c'mon, Dustin." Courtney pulled him back. He broke loose, but didn't go anywhere. She pouted and took up a begging stance. "Don't be a party-pooper. Hey, I'm staying. Aren't you curious to who's doing this for us? We can at least thank her."

"What makes you so sure it's a girl?" Ricardo grinned.

Courtney grinned back. "What makes you so sure it's a guy?"

"Look." Dustin took Courtney's pack and started walking. She didn't budge. "Who has the manpower and the gaul to go ahead and sand down some nobody's work from a wall? Every night? This much of it? We're not dealing with some 'magic band of elves' or something. Let's just leave it alone. The Police should be done with the FD soon, and then we can go back to what we were doing before."

"You found this place." Ricardo sighed. "And now you're just gonna leave it?"

"I find places. That's what I do." He argued. "And then I find somewhere else. I move on. Paint somewhere else. Stay anywhere to long and you run into trouble."

"Oh please." Courtney rolled her eyes. She tugged at her stuff but Dustin didn't let go. "Stop being so paranoid. Look, we'll just hide up on the ledge over there, and when someone comes, we'll decide what to do from there."

Dustin gave back her bag. "I'm not buying this."

Ricardo laughed. Courtney lead the way up the ledge and perched herself as neatly as possible to give the guys room. They scrambled up after her. It took some shoving and shuffling to make themselves comfortable and hidden at the same time, but they managed it.

From the moment they were settled they watched like hawks. They watched the fireflies float around the underpass, occsionally lighting up their handiworks. The weeds bent under the gentle breeze. Their fronds were dyed pink and green, any colour that had splashed back from the wall or dripped from a can. The overspray covered the tracks. The paint chipped off with the rust only to be replaced with another layer of oxidized iron and sprinkled paint. The hiding trio never spoke, but nudged and pointed, and their eyes said every word that might have crossed their lips. They looked at the time as little as possible- lest the cell phone light give them away in the darkness.

Dustin was about to leave, finally giving up on every hold his friends tried to pull over him. He shifted as quietly as possible for his friends' sakes. Ricardo held onto his arm but he was insistant. They had waited long enough. It was about time that they left. Hiding the light under his hoodie he checked the time. It was almost one in the morning. How long had they been up here, waiting? His joints ached like an old man- like the old man that stood in the underpass.

It took a moment to register. Dustin looked back, and fell back into a crouch. Courtney and Ricardo followed his line of sight down to the odd gentleman in the underpass. The man wore a dusty gray-green suit, square in the shoulders and worn to fit. He had a cane in his left hand, with a golden head on top of it. His hair was neatly combed, with the exception of a few graying stray strands that refused to conform. He studied their handiwork, and when he turned to see the wall below them, they saw that he was a man probably in his late fourties.

He lifted his hand to the wall, and dust sprung up from it. The trio leaned in, trying to see just what it was that this man was doing to the wall. He brushed his hand across the wall, reaching all that they had painted upon. They couldn't see the wall from where they were, but when he moved to the wall across from them and repeated it, they couldn't believe thier eyes. The dust that came up was white, as if he was grinding the wall away. All the colours vanished from the wall as his hand touched them. When the dust settled, there was nothing but a clean wall. All the day's word was gone.

Ricardo didn't wait for the man to vanish. He shoved his elbows into his friends' sides. "See? I told you it was worth it."

"This is bad." Dustin shuddered and pull back. "We need to get out of here."

"Are you nuts?" Ricardo quietly slipped down the wall as the man began to vanish into the darkness. "I'm following him. Courtney, you with me?"

"Right behind you." She whispered. She slipped down the wall, and with her gentle footsteps, she followed the tracks down to the man's shadow. "C'mon, hurry up or we'll loose 'im!"

Dustin slid down the wall, tearing up the palms of his hands. He sighed, made the sign of the cross and started following them. He stared at the walls as he passed between them. The dust was still settling. It would be a long time before his nerves were to follow suit. Ricardo had caught up with Courtney, and they weren't waiting for him. Their eyes were dead ahead to follow the shadow of a wall-eater.

"Go home, go with them." Dustin muttered to himself. Realizing this wasn't much of a choice, he picked up pace and chased after them. "Fuck it. They won't let me sleep until this is over anyway..."

~*~*~*~*~*~

He didn't try to loose them. He wasn't exactly leading them either. Courtney figured he was just too tired to try running from children. Every now and again he took a sharp turn, as if they wouldn't be able to turn after him. They kept up, following him wherever he went.

After what must have been about half an hour, they had followed him through a rather indirect road through the city streets. He didn't hobble, he didn't stumble. He kept a strong pace with his cane. There weren't too many people to pay mind to, aside from those who were sleeping under garbage bags and newspapers. He handed some of them a coin a two- never throwing them. The three felt bad coming after him. They were about three and a half dollars lighter by the time he finally stepped inside.

He apparently lived in a row house. The kids closed their five yard buffer and scrambled onto his tiny cement stoop. Ricardo lifted his hand to knock on the door, but it had been left open for them. Dustin opposed walking into the man's home, and Courtney wasn't keen on it either. Ricardo pushed on the door and stepped inside. The two followed closely after.

The hall was narrow. The cane rested on a stand just inside the door. Looking at it again, the gold head was shaped to be the head of a bald eagle. It didn't have a peircing gaze or a cruel curve to his beak as Ricardo imagined a canehead might. It was just an eagle, and a seemingly protective one at that.

"Wipe your feet." Courtney whispered. Looking down, Dustin and Ricardo noticed the welcome mat they were standing on. Just to the side, opposite the cane, was a pair of shoes that were well broken in. They were neatly placed side by side, the laces tucked within.

Dustin pushed off his sneakers. "Just take them off."

Ricardo and Courtney followed suit. Four pairs of neatly set shoes lined the wall. The three sneakers were still tied shut, muddy and filthy beyond a single washing's work. After the welcome mat there was a faded wall to wall carpet, a faded green that almost matched the suit jacked that hung above the shoes. The wall paper was a minty green, just as desaturated as the rest of the hall. It was calming.

Dustin was the first to notice them. All along the hall were picture frames. They came in every size. Each frame was about three inches from the next one with an uncanny precision. Not one of them was lopsided. It almost went undetected what was so wrong with these frames. After a moment of actual thought, the three's faces twisted in confusion.

"They're all blank." Courtney mumured. "Empty white space, every one of them."

"Who hangs blank pictures?" Ricardo shoved his hands further into his pockets. "That's just weird, man."

"No." Dustin shook his head. "They weren't empty when they were hung. Whatever he did to our work- he did to these."

The idea sank in rather quickly, almost too quickly for the other two to really grasp. Neither of them knew how to really feel about the whole idea. Images were being stolen at the touch of his fingertips. Even in his own home. Ricardo realized that it wasn't just his own art that was being stolen- but something far greater than himself. He didn't really like that idea. He didn't like it at all.

"C'mon." Dustin nudged the two down the hall. "Let's just keep moving."

As they passed each room that branched from the narrow hall, they peeked inside. Each one was a different, yet terribly faded colour. The Livingroom was red, or at least it had been. A guest room was once a deep, rich purple. Another room, large enough to be the master bedroom, was a deep midnight blue, and the fade looked rather nice- like an accent on an aging photograph. The last side room was not a room at all, but a closet-like space with stairs that lead to the second floor.

At the end of the hall was the yellow kitchen. An old table, barely an upgrade from a card table, slouched in the center of the room. There were only three chairs and a stool, which had been probably brought from somewhere else in the house. In the far chair sat the old man they had followed.

He had a warm smile on his face. He was obviously delighted to have visitors. He waved an open hand to the seats, hoping that the trio would fill them. "The water will boil soon, and we can all have a cup of tea. Or hot chocolate. Or coffee. Whatever you like."

The three didn't move out of the hall. They stood in the doorway, not really sure what they ought to do. Ricardo took a deep breath and finally broke the three's silence. "I'm Ricardo."

"Dustin," he continued,

"And I'm Courtney." She whimpered.

The old man nodded. He stood up and bowed his head a bit. "My name is Charles Tolon. It is a pleasure to meet you."