Page 327 of Vicious Saint
“I take it you’re not big on Marvel Comics?”
“I’d have to admit that I’m not.”
Clearing my throat, I point a shaky finger to the center of the drawing, where a panther is asleep on the branch of a wide tree. “This piece is an ode to one of my favorite Avengers. Well, more like the actor who played him in the movies. He died not too long ago.”
“I love the purples and greens incorporated into the background, adds sort of a mystical element against the black cross contours along the bottom.”
“That’s because it symbolizes T’Challa’s,” I pause. “The Black Panther’s ancestral realm. It’s where his ancestors are, and offer blessings as part of a ritual for him to become king.”
Mike looks at each area I’m describing, pensive, as if eager to connect the dots.
“This here,” I state, tracing the outline of the sleeping panther, “is my way of expressing peace, tranquility, something I hope is waiting for all of us on the other side. Even more so for the man who played the character, he was amazing for so many reasons.”
“How about the white light in the corner here…” He points to the bottom right.
“My first intention was to create a portrait, but for some reason, it didn’t feel meaningful enough. So I went with a landscape of an iconic part of the film, using light as an entrance for him from our world to the Black Panther’s resting place.” I shake my head, the whole thing feeling kind of silly all of a sudden. “An outlandish point of view, I know.”
“I’d have to disagree, Hendrix. I may not understand your connection to the character, or the actor, but I can definitely feel your passion behind the tribute. The beauty of where you envision each of them, how much they belong there.” He tilts his head to examine the picture deeper. “Same goes for your attempt to respect each of them as whole, but separate entities. It’s truly a moving piece.”
My breath shudders, because that’s exactly how I was hoping it would be interpreted. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
Mike nods, then moves on to studying my comics, reading through more pages than I expected, before letting out an amused huff. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had quite the temper as a child.”
Consider one of my nerves struck by the truth.
Leading me to panic.
“Sir?”
“The way the little girl superhero,” he narrows his eyes to see better, “Purple Haze…is first depicted as somewhat of a loose cannon. Quick to fight back her bully, even orchestrate a pretty harsh vengeance. Kind of intense if you ask me.” Vomit…it’s stirring…threatening to projectile. Until he adds, “But…then she comes to her senses. Starts getting even by helping others suffering just like her. It’s a little edgy for my palette, I won’t lie, but also sends a good message for the younger generation. High road, strength in numbers type of thing.”
I swallow the nausea down in one loud gulp. “Thank you, sir. This is exactly what I was thinking when I began drafting these scenes.”
“I do have a question.” Mike leans back in his chair. “Where’d you come up with the name Purple Haze?”
The laugh bubbles out of me before I even get the chance to hold it back. “Let’s just say…someone who’s ridiculous.”
“You must care a lot about thissomeone who’s ridiculousto use him…or her…as a means of inspiration. So cleverly, also, given…well…your name.”
There’s jest in what he says, but also a pinch of sincerity.
“I do care about him, sir. Very much if I’m being honest. In fact,” I look down at the time on my phone, “he’s sent me fifteen texts between his championship football game asking if the interview is going smoothly.”
Along with other colorful threats if it isn’t.
“Mhmmm…” Mike purses his lips. “Well, then you may want to call the young man and reassure him that it’s going fantastic.”
“I freaking did it, Letterman!” I shout to Saint through the phone, bummed it has to be in a voicemail. “I was offered a spot at BU!”
By this time, his game is just about finished, which according to Archer and Bex is in our favor.
Twenty-seventeen.
A score closer than I hoped, but I have no doubt Saint will make sure The Royals come through.
Then, we can spend the rest of the day celebrating.
And if it’s up to Saint? Fully naked.
