Page 56 of Caged Hunger

Next, Basher added more water. Working his hands in a circular motion, he slowly hollowed out the center as he worked the clay upward.

Cameron watched in amazement as the object began to take shape, looking more and more like a miniature vase.

“Now, I want you to use the wire to cut away the bottom of the clay,” Nelson instructed. “Then slowly lift the vase with both hands.”

Basher did as instructed, sticking his tongue out to the side as he focused on using the wire to cut the vase. Slowly, he began lifting the object, then stopped partway with a confused look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cameron asked, stepping off the pedal of his wheel and leaning over toward Basher.

Basher held up the vase, then tilted so he was looking through the top and out the bottom toward Cameron.

Cameron burst out laughing.

When Basher used the wire to cut the base, he must have made the cut a little too high, basically cutting off the bottom of the vase. What Basher had now was a long, hollowed-out tube.

“Well… umm… that’s a good first try,” Nelson encouraged. “It might not hold that much water for your flowers, but art is subjective… so… you never know.”

Basher and Cameron both chuckled as they stared at one another.

He threw his failed vase attempt back on the wheel and began mashing it into a clay ball.

They spent the next forty-five minutes laughing and joking, watching one clay-filled disaster after another unfold before their very eyes.

Seeing Basher smile like that, so unguarded and at ease, was like looking up into the evening sky and seeing the stars for the very first time.

Basher was… absolutely… beautiful.

There was no other way to describe it.

Seeing the man’s walls fall away and watching the youthful boy he’d kept hidden and suppressed for all these years finally come out and just enjoy himself was like nothing he had ever experienced before in his life.

Cameron was simply enamored.

By the time their two-hour session was over, they were covered in clay and staring down at their… questionable creations. Cameron had made a mug—the rim slanted downward, and the handle was crooked—while Basher had made what looked like an ashtray on crack.

“You two are the cutest things,” Nelson said as he carefully lifted their creations and placed them off to the side. “I’ll let these… masterpieces harden over the next few days and then mail them back to you when they’re ready.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Cameron said, wiping his hands with a rag and wondering how on earth he was going to get the rest of his clothes clean.

“Oh, I’ve got a hose out back you two can use to clean up,” Nelson offered, amused as he watched them both struggle to get clean.

“Yeah, that might be a smart idea,” Cameron agreed.

Nelson led them out back, then thanked them again for coming and hoped they had a good time.

“Actually, that was surprisingly fun,” Basher admitted, pulling off his shirt and rinsing it under the hose like he was doing laundry in his own backyard.

Nelson and Cameron exchanged glances.

“I’ll give you two some privacy. Holler if ya need anything,” Nelson called as he walked back into his house.

“Here, let me help.” Cameron tossed Basher’s shirt over a clothesline to let it dry, then grabbed the bottle of bodywash Nelson had given them.

He drizzled some soap into his hand, then took the hose from Basher and nodded for him to stand against the wall. Cameron squeezed the nozzle, laughing as a jet of cold water slammed into Basher’s chest. Basher jerked back, like he’d been shocked out of his skin.

Once Basher’s face and chest were good and wet, Cameron dropped the hose, then walked over to him with his hand full of soap.

Their eyes stayed locked as Cameron carefully worked the clay from Basher’s chest, then moved to his neck, cheeks, and forehead, taking his time as he enjoyed the moment.