Vision Quest

Part 2

Dave stared at the paintings, completely overwhelmed by what he saw. These were much more powerful than anything he had seen before! The images were so powerful that what happened on the way to Steven's apartment completely faded from Dave's mind. He forgot all about how Steven pointed out landmarks as they walked, about the discussion on how Dave knew his parent's secret plan to give him a car for his eighteenth birthday that June, and even about the discussion they had on Michelangelo and Raphael. All of these fled from his memory as he looked at Steven's final undergraduate project.

The theme was Eros. Unsurprisingly, most of the paintings involved some aspect of sex. That Dave had gotten hard by looking at them wasn't surprising. But the intensity of each piece; the pure sexual energy that seemed to be bursting off the canvas had changed what would have been a slight erection into a raging hardon. It had Dave a bit worried. He didn't want Steven to think he was just one more horny teenager.

He glanced at Steven, to see if he had noticed. Steven had not; he was looking through Dave's sketch book. Suddenly, Dave felt nervous about having given him the book. He wanted Steven to like his art, to say that it was good and professional. But at the same time, he was scared that Steven would rank him as little more than amature. Dave knew he had talent which could probably be improved with training, but he wanted to be good enough to recieve that training. Maybe Steven would agree to help him? There was only one way to find out.

"How did you manage to paint like this?" Dave said, "I mean... It's like, really powerful and... wow!"

Steven looked up from the sketch book and grinned. "Everyone always asks me that. Well, usually reporters and my profs ask that. Usually, I tell them that it's a combination of talent, luck, good teachers, because it never hurt to butter someone up once in a while, and countless hours of practice. But the real secret are the Vision Quests."

"Excuse me?"

"It's something my T.A. taught me when I was a frosh. Sort of a way to get in touch with your creative side, to get past any doubts or worries you may have that'll keep you from making art, and to see images clearer when you don't have a model."

"But you never told anyone about this during your interviews."

"What? And give away my secret?" Steven grinned. "Listen, I'm telling you this for two reasons. First, my T.A. made me promise to teach this to someone after I graduate. I'm just banking in on that promise a little early."

Dave nodded. "That makes sense. What's the other reason."

Steven flipped through Dave's sketch book again. His tone and facial expression became more serious as he flipped through the book. Without looking at Dave, he said, "Because you remind me of myself four years ago. Passionate about art, talented, but lacking that /something/ that'll make people remember you. Oh, they'll probably remember the pictures, but they won't remember who drew them." He looked Dave straight in the eye. "Do you want to be remembered Dave?"

Dave felt like he couldn't break the older art student's gaze. "Yes."

"Then have a seat and we'll start." Steven nodded toward a black leather-bound recliner.

Before Dave could stop himself, he was half-sitting half-lying down in the chair. The bulge between his legs hadn't gone down, and it was very noticable in the position he was in. When he saw Steven looking at his crotch, Dave felt his face begin to burn with embarassment. He moved his hand to try to hide his errection.

"It's okay Dave."

Dave looked up and was caught in Steven's eyes again.

"My art is supposed to do that. Arouse people. I'd actually be more worried if you weren't hard after seeing it. In fact, I'd be woundering if I had done something wrong, or if I had lost my touch. It doesn't mean anything."

Steven sounded so causal that Dave felt himself start to relax. "Oh. Okay. That makes sense I guess." He looked away from Steven and took a deep breath. He tried to force the embarassment he felt out of his mind and relax.

"That's it Dave. Take another deep breath, and this time, let your whole body relax. Good. And one more. And one more. Very good. Keep breathing like that. nice and deep. Letting each breath help you to relax and feel more and more comfortable. Calm. Peaceful. Good."

As Dave listened to Steven, he felt calmer. The embarassment he felt faded, and his arms and legs began to feel heavy. Tention in his neck and back that he didn't even know was there was released. The hand that he put over his crotch fell at his side.

"Very good, Dave. Now, I want you to close your eyes. That's right. Just like that. And I want you to imagine that you are lying down on the grss in the middle of a medow. It's a warm summer's day. And the field is right beside a mountain. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes. I see it," Dave said. His voice was softer than it normally was.

"You can see it clearly? The warm sun? A cool breeze? Maybe some flowers around you?"

"Yes."

"And you can feel what it's like to be there. The sun and wind warming and cooling your body 'till it's just the right temperature. The smell of the flowers. The texture of the grass. Everything nice and warm and relaxed."

"Ya." The more Steven talked, the more Dave felt himself relaxing, and the clearer the images were in his mind. It seemed like he really was there. The texture of the leather turned into hard ground and soft grass. The dry heat from the radiator was transformed into a purer heat from the sun. And the stale apartment air became fresh and fragrant.

"Good, Dave. Now I want you to get up off the ground. Do you see the mountain in front of you?"

"Yesss."

"Good, Dave. How far are you from the mountain?"

"'Bout a dozen feet."

"Very good. Now just to your left, at the base of the mountain is a foot path with a very gentle slope. Can you see it?"

"Yesss... Dirt path... railing..."

"Now when I say so, I want you to imagine that you're walking up the path. And I want you to count each step. Each step and each number makes you relax more, and takes you higher and higher up the mountain. Do you understand?"

"Yesss."

"Good, Dave. And you're at the foot path now, ready to go up the mountain. And you can stop wherever you want. Wherever you stop, there'll be a nice plateau for you to rest on. Begin."

"One... two... three... four... five..."

Part of Dave was aware that he was still in that chair, but that part of his awareness was growing smaller and smaller as he counted. And the more he counted, the more real the mountain became.

"Thirty-six... thirty-seven... thirty-eight..."

Dave climbed higher and higher. He could feel the sun and the breeze. He concentrated on those for a moment. There was something on the breeze that urged him to relax, to let go, and to be more open. Almost like a person whispering to him.

"Fifty-three... fifty-four... fifty-five..."

No need to resist. Because it feels so good. Climbing up the mountain. Relaxing more and more. Becoming more and more entranced. More open. More obedient. Soon, not paying any attention to the breeze at all. But still hearing and obeying.

"Seventy... seventy-one... seventy-two..."

Higher and higher. Going past your barriers. Past your conscious thought. Past everything that is keeping you from being who you want to be. All the while, Dave continued to count.

"Ninety-five... ninety-six... ninety-seven... I want to stop."

"Good, Dave. You can stop. And now you're now at a plateau on the mountain. You can go to the edge and see how high you climbed. The view is amazing, and it'll be even more amazing the higher you go. But for now, just rest here. It's sort of like the meadow, isn't it? Warm and grassy and comfortable?"

Dave's reply was barely audible. "Yessssss."

"Good. Now there is a fallen log on this plateau. Why not sit down beside it? Use it to rest. That's it. And beside you is a sketchpad and a pencil. And you're feeling inspired to draw something now. Just draw whatever it is you feel like drawing."

Dave's hands moved of their own accord. He picked up the sketchpad and pencil beside him and began to draw. He felt the breeze and sunlight continue to relax him. Soon, the page was filled with a rough outline. As he drew, the breeze continued to whisper encouragements: relax... be more open... let the creativity flow... For a time, the drawing and the breeze was his entire world.

And when the drawing was finished, Dave let his eyes close and his mind drift. The whispering was still there, at the back of his mind, but it seemed more important to just relax after that long hike. He knew that he could go further up the mountain another time, and it'd be easier the next time he went.

Gradually, he became aware of the whispering getting louder. "Four... Three... Two... One... Wide awake."

Dave opened his eyes. His whole body felt lethargic, except for his drawing hand, which felt like he had been drawing for hours. Steven was sitting beside him, grinning.

"So what do you think?" Steven gestured at a sketchpad on Dave's lap.

Dave's jaw dropped. There it was. The exact same drawing he had seen himself do in his mind: a fox, drawn in pencil, with wisps of colour; hits of red for the fur, green eyes, a deeper shade of green for the grass and leaves. And in the bottom left corner was Dave's signature. It was better than anything he had drawn before. "I... how...?"

"It's part of the vision quest. You move past the barriers that keep you from turning a sketch into art. And the more you do the quests, the higher you'll be able to go up the mountain, and the better you'll get. Sounds good, eh?"

Dave nodded mutely, still staring at the drawing. He was tempted to believe that Steven had drawn it, and put in his hand, but the sketch was /exactly/ the way he imagined himself drawing it. Also, his drawing hand still had that cramp.

He was still trying to figure out how he had drawn the fox when Steven said, "Didn't you say that you were meeting a friend for dinner?"

Dave glanced down at his watch. He did a double-take. "4:53?!" He looked at Steven, who shrugged.

"Sometimes vision quests take a while. And then there's the actual drawing. But don't worry. They will both go faster as you do more of them."

"As Steven was talking, Dave was getting his coat and shoes on. "More?" he asked.

"Sure! If you decide to come here, instead of another university, I'll guide you through a few more of them."

"Really? That'd be awesome! Thank you!!" His uncertainty at the choice of his schooling became nonexistent. Of course he'd come to this school! After all, art can't be subjected to things like money and program reputation!

"Any time, Dave. Now, can you get back to campus all right? I have a phone call I need to make, and if I bring take you back, I'll miss him."

"Yes. No problem. Thank you for everything, Mr. McKenzie-"

"Steven, please!" Steven interrupted. "Mr. McKenzie is my dad!"

"Thank you Steven!" Dave rushed to the door. He was about to open it, when an idea popped into his head. He wrote something down on the back of his fox sketch, and gave it to Steven. "It's my cell phone number." He explained. "I mean, I'm not expecting you to call, or anything... but when I come back in September..."

"I'll be sure to call. Now get going."

"Bye! And thanks again!"

As soon as the door shut itself behind Dave, Steven stripped. He had been trained not to become aroused while in the presence of minors, but now that his new protégée had left the apartment, he fully intended to indulge in himself. But first, there was that phone call...

It was answered on the third ring. "Hello, Sir?" Steven said. "I found someone."

The man on the other end of the line said something, and Steven's eyes glazed over as he told the other man about his afternoon in great detail.