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corner. I wanted to be working as close as I could to
the two windows on the east side of the building.
They looked out at the forest and tall, wild grasses. It
wasn't dissimilar from the view I had looking out of
the Doral House attic windows.
I had some cleanup to do before I could get
myself organized and actually get started. There was
still some of the granite the sculptor had used and
chips of stone all about the floor. I first had to sweep
up all that. I brought over the brooms, mop, pail, rags
and soaps, including the window cleaner. Since the
studio hadn't been used for years, there were
spiderwebs and, in some corners, tiny twigs and hay,
where field mice and the like had established their
homes. When I tried the lights, I realized some of the
bulbs were missing and most were blown out. I'd have
to tend to all that before it became too dark.
Although the kitchenette had running water and
a working gas range, much of it was rusted and grimy. I quickly realized it would take quite a while to
get the studio livable. Now I appreciated the time off
Uncle Tyler was giving to me. I got started as soon as
I could and was so into the work, I didn't hear
anything.
Suddenly, as if he'd been a ghost, I turned and
saw Duncan standing in the doorway. He had his
hands on his hips. He was wearing jeans, black boots
and a tight, dark-blue short-sleeve shirt. He appeared
taller, broader, more like a grown man than a teenage
boy. He panned the studio and nodded.
"Nice," he said.
