Skipping Town, If I Can Swing It

June 27, 2020. Five days later.

My lessons with Salome have gone from taking an hour a day to two. She has, in spite of all her modelling work and social calls and family obligations, managed to find more time with me. I have absolutely no issue with that.

Today, we sit in the Barrel Room, looking over an original Rothko laid long on the ground. Blue, Green, and Brown is precisely that.

“I don’t know if I could pull off something like this,” Salome says. She sits with her legs under her short skirt folded to her side, her heels a rich, smooth black. “It takes some serious guts to make art like this.”

The painting is nothing more than a series of coloured bars, abstract to the ****, and I shake my head, quietly marvelling that this once sold for millions.

“It looks easy enough to do,” I say. “But what matters is that Rothko was the first one to do it. I could make the same painting today with the colors changed up, but nobody in their right mind would pay more than ten bucks for it.”

“You’re saying I need to come up with something original,” she says, looking up at the ceiling.

“You need to come up with a concept of your own,” I agree.

“Well,” Salome says, leaning back. She lets out a breath. “That sounds really difficult.”

“We have a year to work it out,” I say, smiling and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s right,” she nods.

She leans into my arm, and I’m about to do something more, when the door bursts open.

“I hope I’m not disturbing,” a familiar voice calls out. “The two of you look like you’re having fun.”

“Scarlet! I wasn’t expecting you,” Salome says, hurriedly getting up to her feet and smoothing out the creases in her dress.

She hugs her daughter, the two of them wearing short white summer dresses that make them look like a cute, eminently fuckable mother-daughter duo.

“How have you been, mom? Claude been keeping you busy?” Scarlet asks, turning to me and arching a perfectly composed eyebrow of hers. “I’ve see he’s been eating a larger and larger chunk of your schedule.”

“I’m learning a lot from him,” Salome says cheerily. “You should ask him to give you lessons some time. Maybe it’ll even help with work!”

“I bill those consultations separately,” I say, deadpan, and Scarlet chuckles.

“The rare mercenary artist,” she says.

“Yep, you’d better hire another bodyguard around here just to watch me,” I fire back.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure that’s already happened,” Scarlet says nonchalantly.

I react with the appropriate small laughter, saying, yes, I know you’re joking. I know that she was actually testing me to see how much I knew about the house’s security, and ordinarily, I’d play ball with her—Scarlet is one of the daughters that I identified as most likely to flip against Father, after all. But I’m not ready to tip my hand just yet, and Salome is in the room, too…

“I don’t have much time to linger, but something came up at work,” Scarlet says, turning to face her mom, looking just the slightest bit disappointed in my response. “The Congress of Colombia is about to introduce a law to further subsidise and expand petroleum extraction. They’re trying to really ramp things up. It’s going to be an environmental disaster.”

“I know, that’s been in the works for a while, mija, why are you bringing it up now?” Salome asks.

“We think there’s an opportunity to win over the public on this one. If we get enough pressure to kill the bill, we could introduce something for clean power in its place. We’re thinking hydroelectric,” Scarlet says. “But if we’re going to do that… it would be helpful to have the former Ms. Universe from Bogotá there.”

“Oh! I wasn’t planning on going back home for another few months, but…” Salome thinks on it for a second, and then she glances at the Rothko on the ground, and then at me. “Claude can come along? And you’ll make sure I have time for my art there?”

Again, Scarlet raises her eyebrow at me.

“You’re welcome to sit in on the lessons too,” I shrug, a smirk playing across my face.

“I might have to,” Scarlet says to me. She turns back to her mom. “So yes, I don’t see why Claude shouldn’t come along. You’ll just be there for a few speeches, photo-ops, interviews, you know the drill, mom.”

“Then yes! I’d love to help!” Salome says.

“Great. We just have to clear it with Father, now,” Scarlet says. “I’ll send him a text, and I’ll try to have the flights sorted out by the end of the day."

That night.

Father sits at the dining table with Salome, Scarlet, Hyerim, and me.

“I dislike the idea,” he says, the chopsticks in his hands glinting as he bisects the spine of his fish. “You may be your own person, Scarlet, but you don’t get to order the other members of my family around.”

“Salome wants to go too,” Scarlet says, looking to her mother.

“Yes, I’d like to! I don’t see why I shouldn’t go,” Salome says. “It’s for a good cause!”

“Is that right?” Father says. “What good does this do for the family?”

I pick apart my own fish, silently counting the dozen-and-a-half ways in my head. I know when it’s my turn to speak, especially in this household.

“Nothing,” Hyerim says. “We spend hundreds of thousands on plane fees, staff charges, and cancel a half-dozen photoshoots that Salome had planned, all for what? The chance for her to wave a sign around in her hometown?”

“There’s a bigger upside we can play for,” Scarlet says, looking unimpressed at her step-mother. “If we get the hydropower bill passed in place of the petroleum, then the government’s going to be looking to hand out hundreds of millions, maybe billions, in contracts.”

“You think that Najbreit GreenTech could move in there,” Father says, steepling his fingers. “Fair enough. We have enough political leverage that there’s some hope of winning the contract. I doubt anyone can outspend us at the bidding table. But what will the message look like? Is Scarlet Najbreit really an eco-warrior, or is she just a political pawn to be used by her Father?”

Again, I bite back my tongue. My stake in this is simple. I need to get out of the 24/7 surveillance in this household, even if only for a few hours, and a trip to Colombia is a clear shot at that. But I can’t look ****. I can’t fight this fight for Scarlet. So I silently clean the remainder of my fish off the plate.

“I don’t care,” Scarlet says. “Anybody in the know knows that my advocacy work came before anybody else in the family started making a single penny off the climate. There’s no story to spin. And so what if there is? We still get that much closer to stopping climate change. What do I care if my name is dragged through the mud in the process?”

Oh, she’s such an idealist. I give Scarlet a reassuring smile, showing her that I’ve got her back. But she’s riled up now, and she hardly notices my look.

“People begin to question your motives and any of your future advocacy work becomes tainted in the process,” Father says, offhand. “But that’s not the point. You and I both know I couldn’t care less if that happens. What really concerns me is this. The early polls are starting to come in, and Vanderbilt is looking like he has a real shot at winning Maddie’s seat in West Virginia.”

“Your point?” Scarlet asks, folding her arms across her chest.

“Obvious, if you were paying attention,” Father says. He sighs, and then explains it for those in the room that weren’t. “Coal is one of the issues that we’ve got firmly in our pocket. Us protesting for clean energy in Colombia gives Vanderbilt ammunition he can use back home. Nobody likes a hypocrite.”

“That’s what this is about?” Scarlet says, sounding peeved as hell. “Who cares? Najbreit GreenTech is going to exist no matter what. Us protesting doesn’t make a whit of difference to that. Vanderbilt’s going to come after us no matter what.”

“The difference,” my Father says, “is that you make the issue into something he can pluck straight out the headlines and spin into media cycle after media cycle. Every talkshow will feature his talking head, because he and his message will be relevant. He might be able to do it regardless, you’re right, but it would cost him millions more, and take up so much more of his dear time on air. He can’t afford to build that message if we don’t set it up for him to hit straight out of the park.”

Scarlet shakes her head, flustered and bewildered. Out of all the things that Father could have disapproved of this trip for, it looks like this wasn’t even close to being on her radar.

“Issue resolved?” Father says, the question rhetorical in the state of this room.

I quietly sigh. I suppose this is my time to speak.

“Fossil fuels and clean power. The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” I say.

Father turns to look at me, interested. Salome is the one to ask the question hanging on his tongue.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“Maddie can campaign on both. America is using more power than ever, and that means that we’re going to need to create more power than ever. She can fight to keep the coal jobs, stop the legislature from further destroying the industry, but also, fight to expand Najbreit GreenTech and all the other companies developing clean power in the area. What’s Vanderbilt going to say? That he hates creating jobs?”

“You’re not just suggesting campaign strategy. You’re trying to create policy,” Father says, slowly, as if making sure that I’m understanding what he’s saying.

“Are you suggesting that it’s unsound?” I ask, challenging him.

Hyerim looks like she’s about to try to tear me apart, but Father smiles.

“I will run the idea by Maddie and her team,” he says. “But should she agree, you’ll fly in three days.”

“Thank you,” Scarlet says, her words directed as much at me as Father.

“The artist has better political acumen than you, Scarlet,” Father laughs. “Maybe he should be giving you lessons, too.”

This story is going to feature a political race. That means that some chapters will touch on political issues, including ones more sensitive than the ones in this chapter. So before we all get riled up…

What I write and the things that the characters say are not necessarily reflections of my personal views (and may in fact be quite different). My hope is that these storylines will make this branch more enjoyable and interesting. Let’s try to be civil when talking to one another. I’ve got faith that you sex-crazed people out there reading this can do better than a Facebook comment section :)