Chapter 2

Jill tried to turn her mind away from Chris and Kansas City as she headed towards The Cannery. She reviewed her life in San Francisco as a fine arts student at the Art Institute. She had been naive back in Kansas City. Sure, she had talent, more than anyone in her class at high school. But in San Francisco, where so many aspiring artists come to study and paint, she was just one of many talented young people, and certainly not the best, she had to admit to herself.

Some of her classmates were intimidatingly gifted, others, appallingly ordinary. There was a lot of hanky-panky going on, too. And she found that the females who put out for their instructors got the best grades and the most “assistance.” Well, she was not going to get ahead that way!

At first, she had stayed at a student residence club, but she got hassled there, too — not only by the manager, but by several other residents ... both guys and girls! So, she answered an ad posted on a laundromat bulletin board and wound up with Josephine. The old lady was slightly balmy, but at least, she was safe!

It was all far from the fantasy she had had back in Kansas City, and far from the glamorous life she glowingly portrayed to Wendy and her parents. But she had too much pride to admit the truth to them, and she especially didn’t want Chris to know how lonely she was.

At times she chided herself for the folly of her determined flight to San Francisco, trying to play the liberated “woman” when she was really a vine-covered cottage and picket fence girl at heart. You’ve come a long way, baby, she thought ruefully, then added, Yeah — and you’ve still got a long way to go! But there was Art, and her career, and this was San Francisco --

“Everybody’s favorite city” — and she was determined not to go back to Kansas City with her tail between her legs ... or anybody else’s! She had persisted in her fantasy that she was going to be discovered, and this felt somehow like the day it would happen.

This was not going to be another of those days where she would make a few bucks doing quick portraits, as she had taken to doing in the last several weeks, then pack up her supplies and trudge back to Josephine’s with no more prospects than the lewd propositions she got from wisecracking teenagers and dirty old men.

Jill found a sunny spot facing the fish stands across the street and set up her chair and stool outside one of the arcade entrances to The Cannery, where the tenants paid very fancy rents for their plush and attractive shops. Jill and the other street artists, musicians, and vendors capitalized on the advertising those tenants footed the bill for to bring thousands of tourists to their doors. Some of those tourists were art dealers, people who were always on the lookout for fresh talent.

Jill laid out her portraits and some of her smaller acrylics. She tacked a discreet sign to a nearby tree which read: 5-Minute Color Portrait - $2.00 ... and waited for her first customer.

A middle-aged couple sauntered by, he wearing a double-knit cranberry jacket and plaid pants, she with a knit pantsuit and flat-heeled, patent leather loafers. She was carrying an oversized fake leather tote bag — they reeked of “tourist.”

The man, who was smoking a foul-smelling cigar, grinned sheepishly at Jill, the corners of his eyes furrowing into a thousand wrinkles. She smiled back shyly. The wife gave Jill a cautious sniff and started to move on.

“Merle, wait a minute. Let’s have the little lady do your picture,” he said, winking at Jill.