THE ENCOUNTER cont. page 10

The Encounter

Vibrant hues enliven my paintings, so I scanned the town for an inspiring subject to paint. But this town had to be the most monochromatic sight I had ever seen. It had sun-bleached wooden buildings, heaved up grey pavement, slate colored Santa Fe Railroad water towers, silver railway tracks, hoary leafless trees, dry cracked pinkish-grey earth and dust - dust everywhere. The town did not appear to be alive, yet it lacked the magic of a real ghost town.

I decided to stay in sight of the "bus depot," as it had become my safe place in this ramshackle old town. But I did have to go in search of water, food, facilities and a subject to paint.

I looked west. The road passed by the water towers and several strange, little stone houses, before it disappeared around a curve. I looked east and saw the familiar Union 76 orange ball. It looked encouraging, so I headed that way.

The sidewalk was encompassed a variety of hazards. There were potholes, sections of unevenly set flagstone, rocks strewn everywhere, whole sections of sidewalk covered in broken glass and cement steps that went up for no apparent reason - and then back down.

I stopped at a closed shop and peered through one of its filthy windows. Inside, frozen in time, I saw the interior of a circa 1940's fifteen cent store. Old familiar lables and price tags hurtled me back to my childhood and to the first time I was allowed to walk alone to the shops, where I purchased a twist of variegated pink wool for my spool knitting.

I continued on past a boarded up old theatre and the old Union 76 gas station. The front window of the station was solid house plants, all green and thriving - an encouraging sign. Next to closed old station sat a general store with sun faded posters, signs and sun shielding devices covering the windows. I could not be sure if the store was closed or out of business.

What if the entire town is vacant and all these passing vehicles are just driving throu? I thought to myself, Can I go for twelve hours without a drink? No! I'll have to stop a car and beg for water. I felt a rising panic. The Chicago to L.A. traffic was increasing, but there was no sign of local activity.

G.B. and the Strange Canadian Painter Lady by Charlotte Madison and Nana Cook copyright 1994