DISCLAIMER: Glacier Bay Stories is a work of fiction and all principal characters are the result of my diseased mind. Though the stories might be based on fact everything contained in these pages have been endorsed or blessed by those who gave them to me. While Glacier Bay is patterned after Juneau, Alaska, it is not a definitive description of said town nor its inhabitants. I have nothing but found memories of my late childhood there and I hope that you become to enjoy this sleepy little town as I do.

Glacier Bay Stories is copyrighted and any use of said name without permission is punishable by law. Do not remove from Nifty without first obtaining permission from the authors.

My writing partner can be reached at FireAngel197502@Yahoo.com for any questions that you might have for him.




If not for that tragic for years I would not be the man I am today. The pain, the joy, the heartache defines me and begs me on till morning. Set your sight on the stars and your dreams will be realized...FireAngel

The sun was retreating down behind the mountains but not before giving one last blast of warmth to the floor of the valley. As if to say, for now you've won but I shall return tomorrow. As the last ray of light disappeared into the September sky, the mild temperatures plummeted to the low sixties.

All across the valley, children rushed inside to escape the freezing weather. Smoke rose lazily into the sky from hundred's of chimney's that guaranteed a haven of warmth inside the four walls. As if to taunt the chilly weather into testing the mettle of the town's inhabitants. Families sat down to enjoy the evening meal together and to inform one another on the day's events. To laugh and share those moments that held a family together, love.

But for Brandon Myers, things weren't so simple or wonderful. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten dinner with his parents. It seemed like a lifetime ago and maybe it was. The Brandon they knew and loved was gone and in his place was a tortured young man that felt lost and alone. Which was why he was locked inside his room while his parents pretended to care about one another over the evening meal. He had known long ago, maybe even before they knew that their marriage was over. All that was left was the pretense of happiness cut with an undertone of disgust.

Everyone considered Brandon a smart kid, his parent's, his teachers, his peers at school even by Brandon himself. As a youngster he devoured every book in the local library. As a young adult of sixteen, he scoured the small town of Glacier Bay for any book as yet unread by him. The mailman delivered volumes of literature to his door and he still searched for more. Not only books on history, but science books, philosophy books, art books, each and every one was stored in his mind like a giant Rolodex where he could summon the knowledge seemingly at will. Lately he had been flirting with the classics, Crime and Punishment, along with turn of the century poets such as Verlaine and Rimbaud, Poe and Shelly. These literary giants help shaped his thinking and influenced the way he viewed the world around him.

The world that they conveyed mirrored his own distorted life and gave him an outlet for creativity. Already his paintings and sculptures were heralded by the entire town and most thought that the young protegee would go far in the art community. He paid no attention to these predictions. Nor did he care about them. He considered himself on journey; always searching for that one experience that would crown his life and allow him to achieve greatness.

This is how the young man ended up in his room; his head swaying to the melodic music that blared in the background. Locked away from the rest of the world, an island isolated in an ocean of mediocrity.

Two years earlier, his father and him had finished off the attic above the garage for use as a studio. At first, he used this space for his paintings. Little by little, as things became increasingly tense in the house, he added a couch, then a bed and before his parents noticed, he had moved bodily into the room. He considered the attic his own private hideaway. During summers, he would lock himself in and would go unseen for days only appearing for food that he would take back to his sanctuary.

Since it was a three-car garage, the space he lived in was rather spacious. The only thing he hated was the lack of natural light; the attic only had two small windows, one on either end. The end closest to the house was where he set up his bed and other furniture. Taking a corner of the wall, he fastened a crude rack to hang his clothes on. Though dirty clothes littered the floor along with discarded cans and other assorted trash.

On the far end of the room is where he had set up his easels and sculpting tables. The area was littered with discarded brushes and empty paint tubes and smelled of thinner and oil paint. All along the floor were smeared spots of color that had been left to dry some having been placed there during an idea he had about spontaneous creation. The walls were covered with his creations along with most of the floor space. The paintings were lined along the wall some stacked five deep. A few were unfinished and more than a few were cut into shreds during a moment of anger. But he never threw one of his paintings away no matter how much he hated it. He considered them all a part of his journey and hoarded the ruined paintings like a packrat would horde bits of colored string.

He was painting, his lithe form weaving to the music as he allowed the emotion to guide his hand. His spiky blue hair was meshed down with sweat from his exertion and his black eye liner had run down his cheeks. Absently he would brush the sweaty strains of hair from his eyes as he feverishly smacked the canvas with his brushes.

His bare chest glistened with sweat as his blue eyes narrowed in concentration; so focused was h on the work that he didn't hear the pounding on the door. During a break in the music, he turned his head towards the door as the knocking continued.

Throwing his brush against the wall in frustration, he stormed over to the locked door and yelled through it, "What do you want?"

"Brandon opened this door." His father yelled back.

"No, this is my room. You're not allowed in here." Brandon retorted his anger rising fast.

"God damnit Brandon. Open this door." His father ordered as he pounded harder.

"Leave me alone." Brandon whined, his emotions running wild in his blue eyes.

"This is still my house."

Brandon looked back at his unfinished painting with a resigned look. Reaching over, he unlocked the door. His father quickly pushed it opened and stepped inside. Shaking his head at the mess, he folded his arms across his ample chest.

"Okay, you're in." Brandon said as he turned from his dad and grabbed his cigarettes off the desk.

"You shouldn't smoke." His dad chided. "Especially in this room, don't you ever air it out. It reeks of paint thinner. You could start a fire in here you know."

"That would be preferable to talking to you." Brandon stated as he gestured around him.

His father sighed loudly. He couldn't remember the last time he had a conversation with his son that didn't end up in a fight. "Your mother and I want you to come and eat with us."

"I've got nothing to say and you have nothing I want to hear."

"Please, this one time, will you come back to the house and sit down and eat with us." His father pleaded. "It's important to your mother."

"Will you leave me alone if I do?" Brandon asked harshly.

"Brandon, I'm your father. I don't have to leave you alone. You're staying in my house, you have to follow my rules as long as you stay here."

"Fuck you." Brandon shouted as he reached for the volume control on the stereo, turning it up as loud as possible. The sound of Marilyn Manson singing Disposable Teens greeted his father.

Anger seethed out of his father as he ripped the stereo from the wall throwing it on the trash littered floor. Turning towards his song, he grabbed him tightly by the arm and started dragging him towards the door.

"Get your fucking hands off me." Brandon screamed but his father was stronger and bigger and in the end he had no choice but to follow. The whole time down the steps he shouted and cursed but his father would not relax his grip. Opening the door, he pulled his rebellious son into the kitchen and pushed him against the countertop.

"I'm going to report you for that." Brandon spat.

"I don't care. Maybe where ever they place you will have better luck disciplining you anyway." His father replied never taking his gaze off the tear stricken boy.

Throwing a towel at him, his father demanded, "Now wipe that stuff off your face and go and sit down in the dining room with your mother. Now."

He sneered at his father as he wiped the makeup and tears from his face. Pushing his blue hair from his eyes, he stormed into the dining room and plopped won into a chair.

His mother smiled at him and said, "Thank you Brandon. We rarely get to see you anymore."

Pushing his plate away from him, he said harshly, "Like you care."

His father sat down at the head of the table and was calmly eating his steak. His mother reached for her glass of wine and gulped it down noisily.

Rubbing his paint-covered hands on the table, Brandon spoke, "You're suppose to sip wine mom not gulp it like a homeless man eating a burger."

She ignored him as she filled up her glass again from the bottle next to the table. Her face unreadable in her present condition.

Not letting it go, he continued, "Of course that's only good wine not that cheap shit you buy. Go ahead take another gulp. It will do you good to pickle what's left of your marriage."

Slamming his fork down, his father shouted, "That's enough Brandon. What did we do so wrong that you hate us so much?"

Brandon stared at his father for a moment before accusing; "If you would've left me alone up there I wouldn't have to hate you."

"Is it so hard to just eat with us?" His mother asked, clutching her glass of wine tightly.

"Yes." Brandon declared. "Can't you see I just want to be left alone?"

"Fine, go back to your little world up there. Go and sniff some more paint thinner. Get your jollies off getting stoned." His dad stated loudly

He stood up from the table and stormed out the door leaving his parents in silence. He quickly ran up to his room and stripped off his pants. Pulling on a pair of jeans, he grabbed a sweatshirt off the floor and ran down the stairs with a bag over his shoulder.

His father watched him as he ran across the street and into the woods. Shaking his head sadly, he watched his wife drink her ninth glass of wine. He couldn't help but wonder what happened to his family and his marriage. When did it go so wrong?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jamie Matenuskic sat in his room playing Max Payne on the X-Box while his thirteen-year-old brother Jonathan looked on. The two brothers were close, though Jamie was three years older and they always played games together.

If not for the age difference people would have thought them twins. They both had curly brown hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones and narrow faces. Jonathan was a few inches shorter than Jamie but was catching up to his older brother fast. They were dressed alike, both wearing gray sweatpants and plain white T-shirts.

As the carnage on the screen intensified, they mirrored each other as they dodged the villains on the screen. Both weaving and bobbing on the bed in unison.

"Damnit." Jamie screamed out, as he died for the tenth time in one really difficult part of the game. The words game over flashing on the screen.

"You almost got them that time." Jonathan offered. "But I think you have to sniper them instead of trying to grenade them."

"I don't know. They always blow me up while I try zooming in on them." Jamie countered as he handed the controller to his brother.

They took turns playing the one-person games. When their parent's first bought the game system, they made them promise to share it. The promise was a bit ridiculous since Jonathan spent more time in Jamie's room than his own across the hall. But parents seem to overlook the most obvious things most of the time, at least where their children are concerned.

Their mother, Lynn Matenuskic knocked on the opened door before asking, "Do you boys want any pie?"

Jamie looked at his beautiful mother with a grin. It was no wonder where he got his handsome looks. "No, I'm meeting Pete later. We're going to see Signs tonight."

Jonathan continued concentrating on the game but called out absently, "Yeah, pecan pie is my favorite."

"Then get your butt downstairs before your father eats it all." His mother demanded with a smile. Turning to look at her older son, she said, "You have fun tonight. Try and not stay out too late."

Grinning, Jamie stated, "What's not too late?"

"You better be back in this room before midnight." She warned as she threatened him with her finger.

"Oh mom." Jamie complained. "It's Saturday night."

"Doesn't matter. You know the rules. Weekends its midnight, school nights its ten." She reminded him as she walked over to Jonathan. Bending down, she kissed him on the cheek.

He made a face and said, "Ew, that's sick."

"Come on, the game can wait." She said as she walked out of the room followed by Jonathan who glanced back at the TV.

"Don't worry Johnny, I'll save it for you." Jamie called out with a grin.

"Thanks." He called out from the hall.

Turning off the TV after he saved his brothers game, he looked at the clock. It was a quarter till eight. He had to meet his friend at the theatre in forty minutes. Going to his closet, he rummaged around till he found a pair of pants that suited him. Throwing the pants on the bed, he grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and a T-shirt and headed for the shower.

Quickly showering, he brushed his teeth and tried to entangle the curls that he was cursed with. Giving up, he left them a mess. Rubbing his face he looked at his reflection. Nothing yet he thought as he peered at his smooth face. He had shaved over three weeks ago and still nothing had decided to grow back.

Throwing on his T-shirt, he pulled on the red Tommy underwear and walked back to his room. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he pulled his socks on. As he slipped on the tan cargo pants, the phone started ringing.

"I got it." He yelled loudly as he hopped over to the nightstand on one foot. Answering, "Hello."

"Hey Jamie."

"What's up Pete." Jamie said with a smile as he struggled to pull up his pants with one hand. Pete was his best friend and they had been waiting for the new Mel Gibson movie for weeks.

"I've got good news." Pete exclaimed, talking fast as usual.

"What?" Jamie asked as he struggled with his belt.

"Mindy Peterson said she wanted to see the movie so I invited her to go with us." Pete stated, barely able to restrain from yelling into the phone.

Jamie made a face but said, "That's great."

"And the best part. She's bringing a friend for you so you won't be the odd man out." Pete said mysteriously.

Jamie sat down on the bed and sighed. It was happening all over again. Pete always tried to hook him up with some friend and it always ended badly. Sighing, he asked, "Is this like the last friend you tried to hook me up with?"

"She wouldn't tell me but I don't think anyone can be as bad as Steph." Pete assured him. "We just won't go to Denny's afterwards."

Pete laughed in his ear not knowing the dread Jamie was feeling. Earlier that summer, Pete had arranged for him to hook up with his girlfriend's best friend. They went to Denny's for a bite to eat after going to a movie. During the meal, Jamie's date grabbed his crotch under the table causing him to stand up in shock. His hamburger went flying and his soda spilled all over him. For the rest of the night he had to walk around with a dark stain on his pants. And the worst thing about it was he hated the girl that grabbed him.

"Pete, we've been waiting for this movie for two years. I thought it was just going to be me and you." Jamie said as he rubbed his hand through his curls again.

"I know, but Mindy said she wanted to go. You know how long I've been after her." Pete begged into the phone. "If you do this for me I'll owe you big time."

"You already owe me big time." Jamie stated. "Okay, I'll meet you in front of the theatre at eight-thirty."

"See ya there." Pete said excitedly.

"Yeah." Jamie said as he hung up the phone. Putting on his shoes, he grabbed his dark green leather jacket. Looking at himself one last time in the mirror, he smiled. He didn't look that bad. His face had finally cleared up and he didn't resemble a pizza anymore. Over the summer he had started losing his baby fat and had filled out. He knew he'd never be muscular but for a sixteen-year-old he didn't look bad.

Putting on some Tommy cologne, he walked out of the room and almost ran his brother over.

"Wow, don't you look sexy." Jonathan teased. "You even smell good. Got a date finally?"

"What's it to ya?" Jamie said as he rubbed his brother's head, messing up his soft curls.

Jonathan glared at him but asked nicely, "Can I still go and play in your room?"

"Of course, just don't mess anything up." Jamie instructed as he walked down the stairs.

Poking his head in the living room, he saw his parents sitting down watching TV. Walking in, he informed them, "I'm leaving now. You did say it was all right if I took the Explorer right?"
"Did I say that?" His father, Scott Matenuskic, asked absently as he watched his program.

"Dad." Jamie whined.

"Don't listen to him. Of course you can use the car." His mother stated with a smile. "Boy don't you look nice tonight."

Flashing a smile at his parents he asked, "Dad, Pete called and said we're meeting two girls there. I only have enough for my ticket, can I have some money?"

"You didn't say you had a date." His mother teased curiosity in her blue eyes.

"It was kind of short notice." He stammered back, clearly embarrassed at them calling it a date.

His father pulled out his wallet and handed the youth a few bills and said, "Buy her something."

"Thanks dad." Jamie said with a grin. Walking over to his mother, he bent down and kissed her cheek. "Bye mom."

"Have a good time and don't forget, by midnight." She called out to him as he walked away. As he reached the front door, he heard his father say, "See, I told you Lynn. All you had to do was give him time."

As he opened the door, his mom replied, "I know dear. I just worry about him spending all his time with movies or those games."

Whatever his father replied he didn't hear it. He was already in the garage and jumped inside the Forest Green Explorer. As he drove towards the theatre, his mind drifted to his friend Pete. They had known each other since grade school and had been best friends ever since.

Pete was a bundled of energy that couldn't sit still if his life depended on it. A direct opposite to Jamie's collected calm composure. He was short, barely five foot eight, his hair was more red than brown and he was completely covered in freckles from head to toe. His hazel eyes shown with a mischievous fire that boiled to the surface often.

Both were starting their Junior year of high school in two days with Pete being five months older. They had many things in common, movies being the glue that held their friendship together. Jamie liked to brag that he had seen every video that Blockbuster had on its shelves. No one was sure if that was true but no one knew more about movies than he did. Pete shared this obsession with him and had spent many nights over at his house watching videos till the sun came up. In Junior High, both had been considered nerds. But now that they were in High School, they seemed to have lost that status without having to give up their love of celluloid. While nether were the most popular kids, they were well liked by the classmates. That was due entirely to Pete's sense of humor and adventurous attitude. Jamie couldn't count on one hand how many stupid pranks Pete had involved him in. The more popular Pete became; he dragged Jamie along with him.

Jamie didn't have a problem going along with most of Pete's schemes, until recently. With Pete's hormones ruling both of his heads, he started focusing more and more on girls. Jamie wasn't opposed to this but he didn't feel the same way Pete did that was for sure. And Pete never stopped to consider that Jamie would rather watch a movie than go out with a girl. Unlike many teenager, Jamie did not fell threatened by his friends new obsession, he just wished that Pete would stop dragging him into his failed attempts of losing his virginity.

The darkness mirrored Jamie's mood as he pulled into the parking lot. It was difficult to find a parking space; Signs was the most talked about movie of the summer. Finally, around the side of the building he found a place to park his father's green Explorer.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked quickly through the cold to the front of the theatre. The chilly night air caused him to shiver as he made his way through the other moviegoers. Scanning the crowd, he saw his friend standing with two girls. One was Mindy Peterson and the other was Christine Prager. Both girls he knew from school.

Mindy was short petite blond that was a bit too loud for his tastes but she was pretty enough. Christine was a brunet, tall, almost as tall as he was. She was also a tomboy, the star of the girl's soccer team.

Jamie groaned as Pete waved him over. "What's up Jamie? You're late, the movie starts soon." Pete yelled out excitedly.

"Sorry." Jamie mumbled as he smiled at the two girls.

"Hi I'm Christine, but can call me Chris." The tomboy greeted him, shaking his hand roughly.

"Hi, I'm Jamie."

Pete smiled at his friend, "You know Mind right?"

"Yeah, I'm Mindy."

"Hi Jamie. You look good tonight." She smiled at him approvingly.

"Thanks." Stammered Jamie as he shuffled from one foot to the other. Hoping they would think he was only cold instead of nervous.

"Hurry, let's go inside. I want to get good seats." Pete stated as he put his arm around Mindy's waist and started walking in the double doors.

Christine fell in beside Jamie as they followed the other two into the movie theatre. As they stood in line for the concession stand, Jamie asked nervously, "Chris, do you want anything?"

"No, I'm in training." She replied gruffly as she looked around with a bored expression.

Jamie rolled his eyes and hoped the movie would be worth it. Grabbing a soda and some popcorn, he followed the three inside the dark theatre. After a few minutes they found four seats closer to the front than he would have liked to sit and sat down. Mindy took the first one and Pete sat down beside her and pulled Christine next to him. Jamie rolled his eyes and took the last one; desperately hoping the movie would start soon so he didn't have to talk to the tomboy.

After some small talk, the previews started to roll. Jamie tried to get Pete's attention but the redhead was giggling with Mindy. Giving up he ate his popcorn in silence not saying a word to his "date". As the movie wore on, he started getting upset at the mindless chatter the two girls did and the screaming that surrounded him.

By the end of the movie, Jamie was scowling at the screen and anyone that looked at him. When the lights came up, everyone in the theatre started clapping loudly.

"That was stupid." Mindy said, shaking her head in confusion.

Pete agreed with her, "I know. He used all the same tricks he used in Sixth Sense."

Christine spoke up, "But at least Mel was sexy in it."

"I know." Mindy cooed.

Pete looked at her from the corner of his eyes but agreed that the film sucked. Jamie countered, "So the only reason you liked this movie was cause the star was hot."

"Yeah." She shot back.

"You would." He mumbled under his breath.

Christine heard his statement and glared at him. Pete saw things quickly disintegrating and stated, "Let's get out of here."

Jamie waited till they had passed him. Letting them go ahead of him, he saw Christine whispering in Mindy's ear. Both girls kept glancing back at him. He sighed loudly. Could this night get any worse he wondered as he walked up the gentle incline.

Pete stopped them in the lobby and waited for Jamie to catch up. Jamie saw the girls disappear into the bathroom and he asked, "What did you really think of the movie?"

"I loved it. At first I thought it was all a prank but then I wasn't sure. And then the ending, wow, who would've thought that water would save the world." He said quickly, his words falling over each other in his excitement.

"Then why didn't you say that in there?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder at the theatre.

Answering quickly, Pete said softly, "I didn't want to disagree with her. I like her."

"Good reason to keep your mouth shut." Jamie said sarcastically.

Change the subject, Pete asked, "Do you want to come to Denny's with us?"

"No." Jamie said emphatically. "I'm going home. See ya later."

"You can't do this to me." Pete begged. "You have to come. What about Christine?"

"She's not my type." Jamie said with a glare. "Come on, she could probably kick my ass. And I told you no more Denny's on dates."

Seeing them walk out of the restroom, Jamie said, "See you later."

He quickly left his friend standing there with his mouth open. The cold air made him shiver as he walked around the building to his SUV. Thinking about how screwed up the night had turned out, he opened the door and started the engine. His anger crept up on him slowly, first Pete's declaration that Mindy would be coming and then she was bringing a friend for him. To make matters worse, he couldn't stand either one of them. Swearing that he would never again let Pete put him in that situation, he looked at the dashboard clock.

Only eleven, he had an hour before he had to be home. Being a typical teenager, he wasn't about to arrive home an hour early. Who knows what would happen if he did that? His parents might decide to move his curfew up to eleven if he continued to come home early.

Trying to think of something to do for an hour, he drove the Explorer west down Mendenhall Loop. He figured he'd drive around the loop and that would take up most of the hour. Besides, he loved looking at the glacier at night. The transparent blue mass snaking up the side of the mountain from the lake glistened in the moonlight. And the stars could be seen twinkling in the reflection of the water. He decided he could go atop of the observatory and use the telescopes that you could view for a quarter a minute. The observatory was closed at this hour but many townspeople went there after dark to watch the stars and relax under the watchful eye of the moon.

He had been going there often since he got his license earlier that year. Most of the time, Pete would be with him and they would talk about movies and just hang out for hours at a time. This would be the first time he ever ventured out there by himself at night. The idea of being alone intrigued him and his stomach tied in knots as he parked the SUV under a streetlight.

He turned off the lights and moved the cover of the sunroof. Leaning back in the seat, he stared up at the night sky. His knowledgeable eye noticed many of the constellations and he marveled at the expanse of the universe unfolding above him.

Being a fan of Science Fiction, he often daydreamed about adventures on distant planets and wondered if there was life out there just like in the movie Signs.

The moon was full and loomed large overhead. It lit the area bright as day and the stars seemed to dance across the sky. He didn't even thing about what he was doing. He shut off the SUV and opened the door. Locking it behind him, he made his way towards the trail that led to the shore of the lake.

Though the moon was bright, the trail was blanketed in shadows and he had to strain his eyes to keep from tripping on the uneven ground. He had walked this path thousands of times and the darkness seemed to comfort him as he made his way to his favorite spot. Once the trail ended at the edge of the lake, he climbed the safety rail and dropped down the five feet to the bottom. Making his way west, he headed for a group of large boulders that sat on the edge of the lake about fifty yards down from the viewing platform. With the approaching winter, the lake was down enough that he could walk this way. In the spring breakup, the lake was so full that walking where he was would be impossible.

He had found this spot by accident a few years back when some friends and him had been playing hide and seek. Arriving at the base of the largest boulder, h made his way through the dense underbrush. Cursing at himself for doing this in his new jacket, he finally broke through. Jumping up, he grabbed a branch and hauled himself to the top of the boulder. Making his way carefully across the slick surface of the rock, he looked down at his special spot.

The boulders were massive, weighing many tons each. There were seven giant ones along with hundreds of smaller ones stacked one on top of another. No where along the entire lakefront were boulders like these. He couldn't even begin to guess how they ended up stacked like that. Inside the ring of boulders was a flat spot about twenty feet in diameter and hidden from view by the boulder themselves.

When he first found this spot, he had needed help getting out. The sides were too tall and slick for him to climb out. But after a day exploring, he found a spot that was rough enough to use to climb out.

As he stood on the top, he looked down. His eyes widened as he realized that someone was desecrating his special place. In the time he found this spot, he had never seen anyone there before. As he peered down at the figure, he appeared to be painting by the light of a lantern that he held in one hand.

Crouching down quietly, he studied the figure, realizing that it was a boy about his own age. For a moment, he thought the moonlight was giving the boy's hair a bluish tint before he realized the boy had colored his hair blue. From his viewpoint above him, he couldn't tell what the youth was painting but he assumed it was some type of graffiti. Anger welled up in him. This was his special place and he didn't want it ruined by swear words and juvenile declarations of love.

Calling down to the youth, Jamie stated roughly, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Much to Jamie's surprise, the youth didn't even flinch when Jamie broke the silence. When he didn't respond, Jamie grew even angrier. "I said what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"What's it look like Einstein." The youth shot back never taking his eyes off the surface of the rock.

"Spraying painting the side of that rock." Jamie called down, standing up in his anger.

"Hey, the boy wonder got it in one. I guess your parents can be proud of you." The youth shot back acidly.

"Fuck you." Jamie declared as he jumped down the twelve feet to the bottom. He landed right next to the boy who stepped back to admire his work.

Jamie straightened up and started to say something when his eyes recognized the image the boy was painting. His blue eyes widened, the boy was good. "Wow, that's amazing." He said softly as he strained to see the part not illuminated by the lantern.

"It's okay." The boy responded as he picked up another can of paint and began again.

Jamie stepped closer and said, "No really. It's really good."

"It's a depiction of the Battle of Troy." The youth said stated, still not looking at Jamie at all.

"I know, that's Achilles there." Jamie pointed to a man holding a spear. "That must be Apollo disguised as Paris there when he shot him with a poisoned arrow."

The youth finally looked at Jamie, his eyes showing surprise, "That's right. I guess your parents really can be proud of you. Most people don't know that much about Greek Mythology."

Jamie's face brightened at the compliment. "I've seen every movie made about the Greeks."

The youth nodded his head as he stepped back from the wall. Looking over his work, he shined the light over the whole wall so Jamie could get a good look at the depiction.

"That's really amazing. You did all this with spray paint?" Jamie asked in disbelief.

The youth shrugged and pointed down at the cans of spray paint cluttered around his feet. "It's easy if you know how."

"How can you see to do this?" Jamie asked, touching the still wet wall gently.

"The light." The boy said flatly.

"How long have you been working on it?" Turning his attention back to the blue haired boy.

"A few night." The boy said offhandedly. "I did most of it tonight though."

"You're that painter guy from school right." Trying to place a name with the face before him. "The one with all the paintings hanging in the student commons."

"I'm Brandon." The youth said ignoring the praise.

To Be Continued

NOTES: I can be contacted at Wolfflyer26@Yahoo.com for any questions or comments. Cheers.

Copyright©2002 Glacier Boy