Vision Quest

Part 1

For many senior highschool kids, the words "March Break" and "Choose a College" mean two words: road trip! For Dave Spindal, that was no exception. For the last three days, he and his best friend had been traveling across Canada, checking out campuses. Never mind that they had already applied for schools last October. It's just the way things work in Alberta. You apply based on the program you want, you see the campus and living conditions, and (assuming all of the schools accept you) then you choose which school you want to go to. Assuming you get into all of your choices that is.

This last school was the most important one for Dave. It was the furthest from home, had one of the best visual arts programs in the country, and it was home to Dave's idol: the young, and highly acclaimed painter, Steven McKenzie. In spite of those qualities, he still had not made up his mind as to go to this school, or one that was closer to home, and thus, cheaper.

He had already seen the campus when he had his interview, and presented his portfolio to several art professors last January. So, while Dave's friend went on the engineering tour, Dave slipped into the school's museum, hoping to find a painting by his favorite artist. He took his time, wandering through exhibit after exhibit. The exhibits were divided by year levels; first year to fourth year, grad students, and professors. There were several other people in the museum, but for the most part, Dave was able to wander alone.

Eventually, he stopped at a typical "charming Country" scene, with a few trees, a field of wheat, and a white-washed farmhouse. Even a lowly prosepctive student like Dave could tell that the painting was drab, and not at all like the other artwork in the student's exhabit. Yet, at the same time, it was by Steven McKenzie! It didn't make any sense to Dave. Steven McKenzie was one of the university's best, and most controversal, artists. Several of his paintings had been loaned to the Royal Art Museum of Alberta last year when McKenzie was still two years from graduating. Those paintings were seen as fresh and exciting by Canada's finest art critics. On the other hand, many interest groups who'se focuse was on morality described the paintings as vulgar, and demanded the RAMA close the exhabit.

Dave agreed with the professional critics rather than the interest groups about the paintings at the RAMA, but this one was so unlike those inspirational paintings that Dave thought some kind of mistake had occured. Someone must have labled the painting wrong. Or maybe there were two Steven McKenzies in the same school... and the same year... and in the same art program.

He was still puzzling out how a painting like /this/ could be by Steven McKenzie when he sensed someone come up beside him. Engrossed in the mystery, Dave didn't pay him any attention.

"So what do you think of it?" the person beside him asked, after a few moments. It was a fairly low voice in both tone and volume. Very masculine sounding, but still young.

Dave shruged. Even if there was a mistake, this painting was still credited to his favorite artist, and he'd defend him the way a music fan would defend her favorite pop star. "It's alright. More conservative than what was at the RAMA last year."

"Ya," the man said. "I don't like it either, but the Dean of Art wanted something that wouldn't scare parents away. Or some of the students." He turned to face Dave and offered his hand. "Steve McKenzie. I'm the artist."

Dave's head snapped towards the artist, and his jaw dropped slightly. It really /was/ McKenzie! Twenty three, with dark brown hair, large blue eyes, goatee. He looked exactly like his picutre in the Herald when the RAMA controversy began. Dave suddenly felt shy, and he couldn't remember any of the witty things that he dreamed of saying should he ever meet his idol.

While Dave was trying to gather his witts, he noticed Steven was taking a good look at him. That made sense. Dave heard that Steven liked to work with live models. He was a bit shorter than Steven, at about 5'8", thin, dyed blond hair with brown roots, and glasses. Not as muscular as Dave would have liked, but not bad either. Maybe, with a bit of work, good enough to pose some time...

"You know," Steven said with a playful grin and a gesture towards Dave's mouth, "a fly could get in there if you keep that open."

"Huh? Oh. Sorry." Dave closed his mouth and grinned. "I'm Dave Spindal. I'm a big fan of your work."

"Really? Thanks. I don't get a chance to talk to many of my fans. More like critics and professors and jealous students."

Dave wasn't really sure how to respond to that, so he kept silent and tried to nod sympathetically.

"You know, my appartment isn't too far from here. Do you want to see what I'm working on from my graduation project? I promise, it's a lot more interesting than a farm house and a field of wheat."

"Really?" Dave said. He couldn't keep the excitement from his voice. Not only was he talking to an artist he admired, but to actually get invited to his home was increadable!

"Sure. Come on."

"Great! Oh... maybe I shouldn't. I'm meeting a friend for dinner. He's on the engineering tour right now..."

"All the tours end at five at the earliest. It's not even one o'clock. Plenty of time to go and come back."

"Well, if you're sure it's no trouble..."

"Trust me Dave, it'll be a pleasure."