Suddenly the trees were gone and in front of us stood and old barn.  Sagebrush motioned me to get out of the car and follow him. It was so dark I was letting my feet feel the path because I could not see but a small gray streak across the opening. For a moment I shuddered at the horrible mistake I could be making and then struggled to push such thoughts from my mind. 

 

When we neared the barn I could see a soft yellow light coming from behind the door.  My companion knocked loudly and in a moment a tall young man with blond hair and sharp blue eyes answered.  The two men greeted one another and talked privately.  Soon Lester came over and looked me square in the eyes.

 

"Sit down", he said offering me a sawed off tree stump that was near by.

I sat down with out talking but all the while my eyes scanned the old barn. By the look of the old farm equipment and discarded leather tack I saw that it had been empty for a very long time.  Sage and Lester had moved off to the far side of the open platform area where Lester went into his living quarters.

 

Thru the door opening I could see a cozy make shift bedroom with a small propane two burner stove on a shelf by the wall. Even though the light was very dim I could see that all around me the wood was grayed and worn with many years of standing and large chains and ropes were tossed about while others hung from rafters. The smell of kerosene and turpentine was heavy in the air.

 

On the small wooden platform where I was seated I saw several large easels and many jars of brushes. This gave me comfort.  Many tubes of paint where stacked in a large pile in the middle of an old manger.  I was beginning to feel much more comfortable now. I was really here and everything was just as the stranger had said. 
 
With out conversation Lester handed me a tin cup of black coffee. Then with a soft and very handsome smile he turned and walked to his easel. He was slightly older than me somewhere in his middle thirties.  He was fresh and healthy looking, quite buffed and with an incredible clarity to his eyes.  It was almost as though his eyes flashed when he thought.

 

Although young and soft-spoken he had a deep seriousness about him. Very soon I would notice that when he worked one could feel his concentration.   As I sat taking in the surrounding I remembered that Sagebrush had told me that Lester often gave public performances and sold his works on the spot.  I had seen street painters for sure and done a bit myself, but not in high class restaurants like where he had been working earlier.

    

"It is time for the pirates to come home" Lester said as he set up the canvas.

He squeezed out large globs of cambium red, burnt umber and yellow ocher and a dab of cobalt blue.  I sensed this was quite different than anything I had seen before.  He let his breath exhale and his arms hung loosely at his sides, then with incredible speed he wildly attacked the canvas, resting only to release his control and allow the painting to create itself. There was no pausing to consider or even view anything.

As suddenly as he had attacked the canvas he stopped, and with in that few moments he was finished.

 

There on the canvas was an image that was filled with emotion and expression as though Lester was experiencing the entity on the spot.  Every inch of this painting felt as though it had it's own life.  I knew that I had witnessed a crossing over between planes of dimensions.  The drunken pirate was laughing loudly in frozen time and paint.

  

Lester placed his brushes in the cleaning fluid.  He took the tin cup form my hand and calmly said, "There, it is done and now I must rest." I am glad you came all this way to see me. And hopefully we will meet again." 

 

With that said my companion rose from his seat and gave Lester a friendly hug, said good night and motion me to the door.  We were both tiring and rode home in light discussion and silence. I thanked Sagebrush for the exciting adventure and said I hoped to see him again soon.  He thanked me for riding along with him and drove away.

 

It was three o'clock when I reached my tent home back at the river, but I knew I had to paint now.

 

I followed Lester's example and quickly set up canvas and paints. I tried to do as Lester had done and let my conscious mind carry me to another place; I relaxed and envisioned a belly dancer that danced the entire time I painted. Salima was her name.

 

Just as the sun rose I was finishing up and began to see the gold coins move.  I rubbed my tired eyes and thought that I must just be over tired and having eye tricks.  I went to bed and fell into well-deserveded sleep.

 

The next morning my husband woke me up with, "Hey babe, how did you get those coins to move? 

What! Had he seen them move too?

 

I knew Lester Hawk had shared his magic.