#but when he paints he can relax . it can be nice and pretty santa fe

[jackmkelly]

there being a very noticeable difference in jack when he draws vs when he paints is smth that can be so personal if you sit snd think about it long enough

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

A Classic Day- Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: A day in which the reader and Dean are supposed to spend the day taking in the beauty of classic cars.

A/N: This is based on my trip to a classic car museum that a friend and I went to yesterday. I thought it would be cool to imagine it with Dean since his car is one of the ultimate beauties!

Warnings: Occasional swearing, lots of tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 2018

Masterlist

Ever since you were little, you loved classic cars. The older the car, the larger the appeal to you.  Something about the older cars, like those from the 1920s, the Model T’s, on down to the 1970s, stood out to you. You believed cars today don’t get the attention and the TLC they got back in the day. The process of building a car as a team of people, one person, and part at a time, is short in place of mass production cars. With how much time you spend with the Winchester Brothers, taking care of them, the Bunker, and helping with hunts as much as they would allow you, you had no time to go out and visit any classic car showrooms. You usually just settled with television shows, magazines, and the internet to fill your interest. That is, until one day, a commercial flashed on your TV advertising a car show coming to the town you and the brothers happened to be in on your monster-hunting journey. Sparking your interest, you dashed out of your room and into the main room where Sam and Dean were busy looking into another case and to the one person you know would not say no.

“Dean! Listen to this! There’s going to be a classic car show in town starting tomorrow and I think we should go!” You say to the eldest Winchester, who only just glanced at you momentarily from his research, before looking back to his book. He didn’t say anything at first, so you continued talking, trying to convince Dean to go with you. 

“There’s supposed to be so many kinds of cars, from all periods, and a lot of them were hand-painted and restored right here in town! Come on, Dean, please!” You whine, sounding like a child, to wish Dean rolled his eyes but smirked and chuckled at you anyway. 

“Why are you laughing?” You question, putting your hand on your hip in a sassy way, giving off all the attitude you felt inside. 

“Darlin’ I already had plans to take you to the classic car show in town. As soon as I heard about this, I took a case that came up in town, and hoped I would’ve been able to have the day off to take you.” Dean admitted. 

“You asshole! You had me all worked up, thinking I had to work hard to convince you to go!” You sassed, jokingly whacking Dean in the arm.

“Ow!” He whined, rubbing the spot you just hit but still smirked at you anyway.

“Now get dressed kid, those PJs won’t hold up at the car show.” Dean took in the outfit you were currently wearing, winking at you as his eyes came back to yours. Your cheeks reddened and you quickly turned away, hoping he wouldn’t catch your reaction. Not that you had a choice in the matter of how you reacted to Dean, after all, you had strong feelings for the eldest brother. Something you always kept to yourself and planned to do so at all times. 

You got dressed quickly and decided to keep your outfit cute but comfortable. The weather was warm in Santa Fe that day so you opted for shorts and a tank top, with tennis shoes to ensure your feet would remain comfortable all day. Keeping your make-up light and your hair up in a ponytail, you added a clear gloss to your lips and called it a day. 

“Y/N? You ready?!” Dean called from down the hall to you but you surprised him by standing right next to him and answering him.

“Yeah!” You said, to which he jumped at your response.

“Jesus kid, don’t scare me like that!” You just smirked at his response, finding it funny that he had such a strong reaction to you scaring him. 

On opposite sides of the Impala, you and Dean got in and headed off to the arena where the event was being held. The drive was quiet besides the mild sound of classic rock playing from the stereo. However, something about Dean seemed off to you but you just ignored it and turned all your attention out the window. You hadn’t even realized the car had rolled to a stop until Dean nudged you.

“You seem deep in thought. Anything you wanna share?” He asked, looking over to you.

You shook your head, avoiding any conversation that may be uncomfortable, so Dean just let it go. 

Following him as quickly as possible, you noticed he went another way from all the other guests. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, falling in step with him.

“They asked for Baby to be in the show. I’m the only person in miles of this place that owns a Chevy Impala and especially one from ’67.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing, Dean!” You praised him.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to let you down. I can’t go see the cars with you until the show is over.” 

The look of hurt and betrayal reared its ugly head over your face and all you could do is run. Run as far away from the hurt Dean just placed inside your heart, despite all the times he called after you. There was no way you could’ve enjoyed the show now, so you grabbed your phone from your pocket and dialed Sam’s number.

“Y/N? Hey, what’s going on? I thought you were with Dean?”

You sniffled and mustered up a “Dean lied to me.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Dean entered Baby in the car show and didn’t tell me.” You cried much harder than you had originally started this phone call and Sam knew what he had to do.

“Stay there and be out front in fifteen minutes; I’m on my way.” He instructed and you followed his word.

Exactly fifteen minutes went by and Sam was there to pick you up and take you back to the Bunker, squeezing your shoulder affectionately when you cried again.

Dean’s POV

“Sam?! Y/N? Where are you guys?” I yell for my brother and my best friend when the car show ended. Baby took home first prize for overall quality in the 1960s category. Every decade had at least twenty different kinds of cars so it was exciting my girl was the best car made during the 1960s. However, I was not able to celebrate with anyone because I noticed Y/N was no longer with me. Immediately, I began to worry, wondering where she could’ve run off to and when no one had seen her, I texted Sam.

Me: Dude, please tell me y/n is with you! I haven’t seen her in a few hours and I can’t find her, I swear on Dad’s grave if something happened to her…

Baby bro: Relax, Dean. She’s here with me.

Me: Oh, thank Castiel! Why is she with you?

Baby bro: Because you had to lie to her and not tell her you weren’t going to be able to enjoy the car show when you knew how much going with you to this, meant to her.

Shit, I messed this up bad.

“Y/N?” I knock on her bedroom door but there was no answer.

“Y/N, kiddo, please. I want to talk to you” I practically beg on the opposing side of her door, my head leaning against the door frame. 

“What do you want, Dean?” She opened the door to me, but only part of the way. I could tell she had been crying by the puffiness of her eyes, and at that moment, I knew I loved her. 

“Y/N listen, I am so sorry I didn’t tell you but I knew if I told you the real reason behind me going to this show, you wouldn’t go.”

She didn’t look impressed so I continued my explanation.

“I heard about this show a long time ago and managed to find a case here in town. I went ahead and made sure we had a day off when the show started. But then you wanted to go and you got so excited, so I had to lie. I couldn’t let you down like that. I wanted you to enjoy the show for a little while.” 

“Just leave me alone, Dean.” And with that, she shut the door in my face, leaving me with my thoughts.

“Damn it!” I punch the wall beside her door and rush off to the common room.

“What’s gotten you so mad?” Sam asks as I storm into the room.

“Am I the biggest idiot on the face of the earth?” I ask rhetorically.

“Probably but what did you do?” Sam pokes fun at my dismay, earning him a bitch face.

“I just made y/n hate me. Sam, you should’ve seen her face; she’s so hurt.”

“I know. I’ve been with her for the last few hours.”

“I’m sorry you had to be there for her. I’m supposed to be there for her, to care for her. She…She’s my whole world, Sammy. And she just locked herself out of it.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Sam asked.

I thought about it for a while, contemplating my answer and making sure I was one hundred percent sure. “I do. I love her more than I love pie, or beer, or bacon, or Baby even! She lights up the room when she walks into it. She’s always the optimist when I’ve been the pessimist. Always smiling and laughing, not a hateful thought in that pretty little head of hers. She understands the life Sam, she gets it. She helps as much as she can with research and tidying up around here, especially after us. I don’t know what I’d do without her Sammy and I don’t ever wanna find out.” 

“Took you long enough, Winchester.” A feminine voice spoke up from behind me; I’d know it anywhere.

I turn around and see her leaning against the map table, arms folded and one leg crossed over the other. She stood like this a lot, usually meaning we were going to hear some sass coming from her, and of course, that’s what we got. 

Without really thinking much of it, I walk to her, taking long strides, to get to her as quickly as possible, to when I reach her, I grab her face in both my hands and pull her to my lips. She immediately responds to the kiss, her hands on my wrists as her lips dance perfectly with mine. We battle for dominance, going in circles, her pulling my lip, I pulling hers until I successfully pushed past her lips and was able to feel her mouth against my tongue. 

The sound of Sam clearing his throat is what finally pulled us apart. She held onto me still, clinging to me like a child, and I just encircled my arms around her. 

“Next time y’all do that, make sure I’m not here to see it. Oh, and it’s nice to finally have a sister.” He winked before stalking off into the other room.

“I’m sorry that took so long. You know how stubborn I can be.” I admit, looking down at the smaller woman in my arms.

“Mhm, yes, I do know this. Boy, do I ever know that. Yet you forget, I am too and that, is why I think we made a wonderful couple.” She smiles up at me; I return the favor.

“I love you, kid,” I say, kissing her once more. 

“I love you, too. Now, take me back to that car show tomorrow; you owe me.” She sasses me once more and my only answer is to bend down and wrap my arms around her legs, lean her over my shoulder, and lift her off the ground. She squeals in delight, kicking and screaming for me to put her down and when I do, it’s on my bed, where I hover over her and kiss her some more.

“If you promise to be my girl, I promise to take you back to the show.” 

“Deal.”

Tags  (Requests are open) @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​ @simpleboox​ @marvelfansworld​ @tloveswriting​ @juju-la-tortue​ @67-chevy-baby​ @akshi8278​

[nighting-gale17]

im dyin’ (oh santa fe...)

TW: (very) vague suicidal references

Also read Here on AO3!!!!

Painting was the only thing he could do right now.

His eyes stayed fastened on the swirling colors gently brushed across the canvas, losing himself in the art. It calmed his racing mind and pounding heart better than anything or anyone else would have been able to even try (that was a lie—soft pink lips, firm hands, lean body… but he couldn’t). If he stopped, if he let his brain think too much, then all he would think about was how helpless we was and how there wasn’t anything he could do to help Crutchie, or the rest of the newsies, and those kids—

Like he said. If he painted, he didn’t think.

Jack let out a frustrated huff and stepped back from the canvas, eyeing his work critically. It was coming along alright, he supposed, though he might’ve been a little too generous with the purple. If he added some pink, though, it would set it off nicely with the sunset in the background…

Hours were lost to him as he painted in the back of Miss Medda’s theatre. The splatters of paint on his skin distracted from the still aching bruises from the fight. Each careful stroke of the brush across the canvas silenced any thought that tried to form in his mind. It was therapeutic, in a way, he supposed. It gave him control over something when he had never felt more helpless in his life and he enjoyed the way his body began to relax as he lost himself in his work.

“Jack? Postage for Jack Kelly?” 

Jack momentarily zoned back in to the rest of the world, glancing over his shoulder at the young postage boy that had walked into the back of the theatre. “Yeah, that’d be me.” he said, putting his paint brush back in the paint cup and reaching out to the boy. “Thanks.”

The boy nodded and waved as he handed him the letter and then took off.

Jack frowned down at the letter, feeling dread start to build up in the pit of his stomach as he looked at it. His name was scrawled across the top is messy, shaky handwriting—chicken-scratch, he had used to tease Crutchie—but it was the smeared bloodstain on the edge that caught his attention.

Dear Jack,

Greetings from the Refuge. How are you? I’m okay. Guess I wasn’t much help yesterday. Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch. Oh, yeah, Jack, this is Crutchie, by the way. These here guards, they is rude. They say jump, boy, you jump or you’re screwed. But the food ain’t so bad, least so far, ‘cause so far they ain’t brung us no food. Ha. Ha. 

I miss the rooftop. Sleepin’ right out in the open, in your penthouse in the sky. There’s a cool breeze blowin’ even in July. Anyway, so, guess what? There’s a secret escape plan I got. Tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window, climb down, then take off like a shot! Maybe though, not tonight. I ain’t slept and my leg still ain’t right. Hey, but Pulitzer, he’s goin’ down! And then, Jack, I was thinking we might just go like you was saying. Where it’s clean, and green and pretty, with no buildings in your way, and you’re ridin’ palominos every day. Once that train makes—

Damn this place. I’ll be fine, Jack, good as new. But there’s one thing I need you to do. On the rooftop, you said, that a family looks out for each other. So you tell all the fellas for me to protect one another.

The end.

Your friend,

Your best friend.

Your brother,

Crutchie

God damnit.

Jack took a deep breath as he carefully folded up Crutchie’s letter with shaky hands. Somehow, the letter hit his heart almost as hard as it did when he tried to go see him last night. The bloody and bruised up silhouette of him in the dark, curled up on the top bunk just trying to breath through the pain—

He couldn’t even make it to the window.

And it was all Jack’s fault. He never should have tried to kid himself that he could do something that would help the people he loved—it always backfired on him. Apparently, his parents and siblings hadn't been enough proof of that. Tears burned in his eyes and he sniffed, blinking them away and wiping at his cheeks with his hand. Crutchie might die in that—that awful place, and Jack couldn’t do a single damned thing about it.

“Jack?”

Jack quickly shoved the letter into his apron pocket, quickly brushing the back of his hand over his cheeks to get rid of any tears. He glanced up slightly from the corner of his eye as Miss Medda approached him, keeping most of his attention to the ground.

“Here’s everything I owe you for the first backdrop.” She told him, holding out a pink envelope with a gentle smile on her face. She turned and gestured toward the backdrop he was currently working on, a soft look of awe on her face that he never was able to understand. “Plus this one. And even a little something extra,” Miss Medda continued, turning back to him with that same smile. “Just account’a because I’m gonna miss you so.”

“Miss Medda,” Jack protested. “I—”

“Jack.” Miss Medda cut him off, a vaguely disappointed look on her face, as if he was doing something wrong by refusing to take her payment. She held out the pink envelope to him again expectantly.

He took it from her slowly, unable to meet her eyes as his fingers slid over the fine, pink parchment. “You’re a gem.” he said when he was finally able to speak past the lump of emotion in his throat, giving her a strained smile.

“Just tell me you’re goin’ somewhere,” Miss Medda sighed softly as Jack dropped the envelope in his apron pocket. “not running away.”

Jack lifted his eyes up to glance at her and then scoffed. “Does it matter?” He brushed past her, his eyes lingering on his almost finished painting. He told everyone it was of Santa Fe—of somewhere nicer, far, far away from the claustrophobic presence of New York. And it wasn’t a lie. But the way he planned on getting there—well, money wasn’t going to help him get there. He just wished he had the courage to finally take the dive and leave this dump behind.

“When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else.” Miss Medda was continuing, pulling Jack out of his thoughts. “But if you’re running away, nowhere is ever the right place.” She walked up toward him, putting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly.

Jack dropped his gaze and averted his eyes, trying not to show just how much of Miss Medda’s words struck. He knew she was right. He knew he was running away, like a coward, but it was all he wanted to do, as selfish as it is. Wanted to run away to Santa Fe, where he could be free of hunger, pain, the misery of everything in this awful—

“Jack! How ‘bout lettin’ a pal know you’re alive?”

Jack’s head jerked up so fast his neck protested the action, making him wince as the ache from his injuries made themselves known again. Davey was there (of course he was, he never should have shown him this place) on the catwalk, staring down at him with that infatuating grin before bolting away.

“Why don’t I leave you with your friend?” Miss Medda said, a knowing look on her face as she patted his cheek gently and walked away.

“Where did you go?” Davey asked as he rounded the corner, almost out of breath. “We couldn’t find ya!”

“You ever think I didn’t wanna be found?” Jack retorted, bitterness coating his words as he walked forward and grabbed one of his paint brushes out of the cup, intent on finishing what he started. And maybe if he ignored him, Davey would get the hint and leave him alone. Though, a tiny part of him hoped he might stay.

“Hey, is that a real place?” Davey asked suddenly, gesturing with the newspaper he was holding in his hand to the backdrop Jack was currently painting. “That Santa Fe?”

Jack ignored him, trying ti hide the way his heart race ticked up at the thought by bending his head and dipping his paint brush in the soft pink paint. He knew Davey was just talking about the actual Santa Fe, way down there in Mexico where the skies were clear and the stars shone at night. But Jack had stopped thinking about Santa Fe as an actual, physical place a long, long time ago.

“Hey, did you see the papes?” Davey tried again when Jack continued to work on his painting, appearing in the corner of Jack’s eye and waving the paper in his hand around. “We are front page news, above the fold!” He unfolded the paper, practically shoving it under Jack’s nose. “Oh, yes. Above. The fold.”

Davey grinned at him as Jack looked up, barely giving the paper a glance as he forced Davey backward so he could reach the other side of his painting. “Good for you.” he muttered before ducking his head down to focus on the strokes of the brush across the canvas.

“Everyone wants to meet the famous Jack Kelly!” Davey went on, brushing his hand across Jack’s shoulder and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He paced across the floor behind Jack, his footsteps an annoying distraction from his painting. “Even Spot Conlon sent over a kid just to say, ‘Next event, you can count on Brooklyn.’ How about that?”

Jack let out a frustrated breath, glancing over at Davey before he returned to swap out his paint brush. “We got stomped into the ground.”

“Yeah, they got us this time. I’ll grant you that.” Davey acknowledged, though there was a tone of confusion in his voice. “But we took round one, and with press like this, our fight is far from over.”

“Every newsie who could walk was out there this morning, selling papes like the strike never even happened.” Jack shot back, finally turning in his squatted position to level Davey with a frustrated look. He rose back to his feet, intent on getting back to his painting and just wishing Davey would get the hint and go away.

“And I was right out there with them.” Davey said hurriedly, putting his hand out and forcing Jack to stay in place. “If I don't sell papes, my folks don’t eat.”

“Save your breath.” Jack snapped, his irritation finally getting the best of him. “I get it. It’s hopeless.”

“But then I saw this look on Wiesel’s face!” Davey continued, spinning on his heel as Jack brushed past him to return to his painting. “He was actually nervous and I realized this isn’t over. We got ‘em worried. Really worried.” Davey’s finger gently pressed on the underside of Jack’s jaw and forced his head up to look at him and his way too earnest expression. “And I walked away. Lots of other kids did too. And that is what you call a beginning.”

Jack held his gaze, forgetting for a second how to breathe as he looked into those wide brown eyes. He didn't realize it before, but there was an underlying concern in his eyes for him as well, mostly hidden by his excitement and hope over the strike. But it was still there. And damn, if Jack couldn't ever remember the last time someone other than Miss Medda or Crutchie looked at him with worry like that.

The finger under his jaw brushed up his cheek bone, brushing lightly against the skin and drawing a shuddering breath out of Jack. The soft fingers, those of a well learned man, a contrast to the abused, rough callouses Jack had, slowly stroked over the skin. Davey’s eyes were soft and bright as he opened his mouth to say something, but then the moment was broken by the too loud, high pitched sound of a child.

“There he is, just like I said!”

Jack looked over his shoulder and scowled, glaring up at the catwalk where Davey’s little brother was pointing at him with Katherine at his side. “For cryin’ out loud,” He growled, standing on his feet and clutching his paint brush tighter in his hand as he stormed over to where the rest of his paints were. “Where’s a fella gotta go to get away from you people?”

“There’s no escapin’ us, pal.” Davey followed him, voice slightly teasing, their moment forgotten. “We’re inevitable.”

Jack thinks of Santa Fe a little more wistfully. He ignored the three of them as they chattered off to the side, trying his hardest to escape back into that numbing, silent place painting always gave him refuge in. But, of course, this was practically impossible considering the tension in his shoulders from the presence of the others. He just wanted to be alone. Why wouldn’t they just go away?

He turned back to his paints as he ran out of the blues, once again wishing for one of those nice, small palettes to keep his paints on. He spotted Katherine slowly walking towards him and gave her a glance as he headed towards his paints. “Word is, you wrote a great story.”

“Hey, you look like hell.” Katherine said, a deep frown on her face as she walked toward him. Jack saw her raise her hand from the corner of his eye as he bent forward to get his paints, felt himself tensing slightly at the thought of her touch, but thankfully, she seemed to think twice about it and dropped her hand.

“Hey, Jack, where’s that supposed to be?” Les piped up, bouncing on top of a box of his painting supplies and making Jack grimace.

“It’s Santa Fe,” Davey answered for him when Jack refused to speak, busying himself with the paints by his feet.

“Oh, I gotta tell you, Jack. This, ‘Go West, young man!’ routine is getting tired.” Katherine told him, eyeing his painting critically when he sat up and glared at her.

“Tired?” Jack echoed, standing back on to his feet with a sour taste in his mouth. “Tired? Ya know, for a blacklisted reporter, you sure got a lot of nerve sayin’ stuff you don’t kno’ nothin’ about.”

“How did you know I got blacklisted?” Katherine frowned, further irritating Jack with just how unfazed she seemed to be by his comments.

“I ain’t an idiot.” he snapped. “Despite what you might think.”

“Can we table the palaver and get back to business?” Les interrupted, exasperation in his voice in a way only a child as young as Les could achieve. “Will Medda let us have the theater?”

“It’s what I been tryin’ to tell ya!” Davey left his brother’s side, walking up to Jack with that all-too earnest look on his face again. “We wanna hold a rally, a citywide meeting where every newsie gets a say and a vote. And we do it after working hours so no one loses a day’s pay. Smart?”

Jack looked up at that earnest face and had to look away. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Smart enough to get you committed to a padded room.”

“The guy who paints places he’s never seen is calling us crazy?” Katherine scoffed, gesturing towards his unfinished backdrop.

Jack froze at her words, anger boiling through his veins so violently he had to take a deep breath before he started to speak. “You wanna see a place I seen, huh?” he asked, glaring at her as he brushed past Davey and threw his paintbrushes onto the ground. The violent clatter caused Katherine to flinch, startled, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to care, couldn’t think past the anger and hate and guilt mixing together in his chest. “How about this?” He marched towards the backdrop and shoved it around, turning it so the sketch he’d drawn on the other side was visible.

It was nothing but harsh black strokes, drawn when he first got here and he needed an outlet for the anger and fear writhing through his veins, demanding to be released. The faceless newsies—just children, they were only kids—being stomped on, crushed, by the Pulitzer giant.

“Newsie Square, thanks to my big mouth, filled to overflowing with failure.” he spat the words out like they were poison, that familiar anger swirling in his chest every time he looked at the cartoon. “Kids hurt! Others arrested!”

“Lighten up. No one died.” Davey snapped at him.

Jack turned to face him, shocked, unable to believe what he had just said. “Oh, is that what you’re aimin’ for?” As he spoke, he could already tell that Davey was regretting his words but Jack was past the point of caring. “No, no, go on!” he shouted, waving his hand in the air. “Call me a coward! You call me a quitter. Ain’t no way I’m puttin’ them kids back in danger.”

“We’re doing something that's never been done before!” Davey shot back desperately. “How could that not be dangerous?”

Jack wanted to scream. Why didn’t Davey and Katherine understand that there were real consequences to what they were doing? That there were things worse than death that could be forced on them. He worked his jaw, taking a deep breath before he spoke, his voice quieter now. “Specs brung me a note from Crutchie at the Refuge. I tried to go see him last night. I went up the fire escape. They busted him up so bad, he couldn’t even come to the window.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the vision of Crutchie’s bloodied silhouette on that bed flashed in his head. “Now what if he don’t make it, huh?” he asked tearfully, opening his eyes back up, uncaring of the shine he knew they had. He pointed accusingly with a shaking hand at Davey as the other boy looked away. “Are you—Are you willin’ to shoulder that? For what, half a penny a pape?”

“It’s not about pennies, Jack!” Davey yelled, his face starting to turn red from a mixture of frustration and something else in his eyes. “You said it yourself.” he lowered his voice as he walked closer to Jack, who only turned away and wiped at his face with his hand. “My family wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in if my father had a union. This is a fight we have to win!”

“If I wanted a sermon, I would show up to church.” Jack snarled, stepping forward and getting into Davey’s face until they were only a breath apart. “None of you get it! The consequences of continuing this fight are greater than any reward that could come out of it.”

“Jack, you’re being ridiculous.” Katherine tried to start, but Jack cut her off with a glare.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about.” He scowled, the anger still simmering in his veins. “None of you do! You all came from nice, stable families—still got a mam and pops you can go runnin’ home to. Well not all of us got somethin’ that nice! Some of us learned about the real world a lot sooner!” he shouted.

Silence met his words and Jack forced himself to take a step back, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Yeah, those kids might not have died. But they were taken to the Refuge. And I doubt there’s a hell worse than that place.”

“Jack, please—” Davey tried again.

“No!” Jack snapped, lifting his gaze to glare at the other man, ignoring the hurt shining in those eyes. “Those kids are in there because of me. Crutchie, is in there because’a me, and he might be dying. Yous can do whatever ya want. But leave me outta’ it.”

He walked past Davey, intent on finishing his painting for Miss Medda like he had promised and then getting the hell out of there to figure out how to save Crutchie. But Davey grabbed a hold of his arm before he could walk past, his grip tight on his bicep. “Jack.” he said quietly, but Jack refused to look up. “What happened at the Refuge to you?”

Jack felt his entire body stiffen at the question. Flashes of pain and beatings and crying brothers and sisters flipped through his mind. He bit the inside of his cheek long enough until he tasted blood before he spoke. “That ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” He ripped his arm from Davey’s grip, ignoring the way he immediately longed for the touch after it was gone. 

Davey was still yelling his name, desperately, lost in the cacophony of voices as Katherine and Les’ joined in with him. But Jack ignored them, taking off away from the theatre. He didn’t know where he was going. All he knew was he needed out. He needed a plan, he needed to rescue Crutchie.

Santa Fe… One day…

[occasionalgypsies]

After going to Rockport and Port A in South Texas in Jan/Feb to try and outrun the cold (ahem, it was pretty cool and rainy most days but still, better than the weather in Dallas), our next adventure, just as Texas started to warm right up to comfy poolside temps, was to head off to Santa Fe, NM for all of April!

In a nutshell I have to say Santa Fe and all of NM really are: hauntingly beautiful with lots of light variations and distant mountain ranges in shades of blue/black; wonderfully dry so colds aren’t too cold and hots aren’t too hot; amazingly bug free allowing for open windows; quiet, even in the busiest of places because it only has maybe 2 million people IN THE ENTIRE STATE; full of some friendly people; brown (everyone seems to have signed a pact to build only earth tone adobe houses which while beautiful and well designed to blend, can be very monotonous); and loaded with Santa Fe cuisine (lots of red and hatch green chili sauces and stacked enchiladas, packing some heat).

We’ve really loved it. We have the good fortune to be house sitting through Trusted Housesitters, and have a lovely place up in the hills from Santa Fe a few miles. We hear Robert Redford lives right down the road but Stanley and I have yet to see him on our walks up his way. Here’s Stanley, our delightful little Schih Tzu for the month.

Anyway, following are a few of the highlights from our trip that to me, you shouldn’t miss.

Bar Z Winery near Palo Duro Canyon

Palo Duro Canyon

Our abode for the night in Palo Duro

Cadillac Ranch!

On our way from TX, we decided to check one item off of Jim’s bucket list, and spend the night at the bottom of Palo Duro Canyon. Did you know that it’s the second largest in the US, after the ol’ Grand? I didn’t. Don’t ask me based on what, I just read that somewhere. It was pretty amazing (upon driving past the first spot where you could kinda see it, Jim exclaimed, “Look at that, it’s almost like a…” and then he looked at the expression on my face, and stopped talking, because, ya know yes, it’s kind of like a canyon over there, like the one we put in our GPS maybe!) We spent the night in a decently comfy bed/cabin, no heat or air necessary due to it being early April in TX., and we had just a lovely time. FYI, I suggest a stop at Bar Z winery nearby, nice wines and amazing views of part of the Canyon. And you HAVE to check out Cadillac Ranch and spray paint something there. Pro tip: don’t buy any spray paint unless you are really picky, there’s plenty there for the taking.

Palo Duro Canyon

Bar Z Winery near Palo Duro Canyon

Our abode for the night in Palo Duro

Cadillac Ranch!

So after that overnight stay, we were off to Santa Fe! The scenery rather abruptly changed at one point, from flat grassland to scrubby, hilly desert. And then at one point, I realized, holy cow, I haven’t seen a person or a building or a cow or ANYTHING for a looooong time. Texans like to think we have wide open spaces but wow, even on the major highways you might see nothing here for an hour. Pretty cool, I have to say. Except don’t come here if you are addicted to your interwebs on your tele-device. Cell services is more like an occasional surprise than a reliable utility. Get used to it!

If you can, spend some time on Route 66 here. Lots of kitsch of the charming kind. We went through Tucumcari, partly because I like saying it and partly because it said it had some of the best art around. As you can see, it has some mighty fine stuff! I didn’t post the wall crawling with cockroaches because while it was cool, it really creeps me out.

OK, just kidding, here it is.

Anyhoo, we arrived, and all was beautiful if a bit chilly. The mornings were often in the 30s, but again, didn’t really feel too cold and it warmed up fast. Temps in the 60s are pretty mild here, being high altitude, sunny and low humidity. 70s feel great. 80s, you’re going to get hot and thirsty if you are out for long.

One of the first things we did was take a drive to check out the Rio Grande Gorge. It was pretty spectacular, even if the little phone box telling you not to lose hope freaked me out a bit. Smart, but still.

The scenery was awesome. Best part was we found a road that led to the bottom of the Gorge, where just a few people were hanging out fishing or relaxing. We like finding out of the way spots like that. On a warmer day, I could have hung out there all day, reading and swimming.

Rio Grande River Gorge

The crisis hotline at the gorge bridge

Jim at the bottom of the Rio Grande River Gorge, via a remote little dirt road

Another day we decided to take the high road to Taos (they actually call it that, we weren’t being especially virtuous or anything), a drive known for its beauty. There’s a faster way, but don’t do it. We also sort of accidentally took some kind of big circle around the mountaintop called the Enchanted Circle, also known for its scenery, mainly because I also wanted to see Red River where I spent some truly special time as a kid (Community House, you seem a sad shell of your former self, I hope I’m wrong, but prob you don’t have square dancing and hand jive lessons any more, sniffle) and because I wanted to drive through Angel Fire which I had never seen (we didn’t look too hard but it was just OK).

Next, we visited Bandelier National Monument, took a long hike and saw some great petroglyphs. You can also climb up ladders to see inside the old caves the Native Americans carved out of the little mini-caves in the cliff face. Saw some cool deer. Also took a drive to Jemez Springs and saw Soda Falls (below) along the way. Super cool, the river rushes through a small opening, lots of dripping mineral formations and a random hot spring on the side of the road. Also, Jemez Springs seemed fun and nicely isolated although we didn’t stop.

Bandelier Deer

Gophers on the roadside maybe?

Bandelier

Deer everywhere at Bandelier

Soda Springs

Soda Falls

Then, our friends came to visit! Super fast, we did a lot of stuff. We went to some Breaking Bad locations in Albuquerque, went to the Georgia O’Keefe museum in Santa Fe (totally worth it, and then in honor of her I took a very O’Keefe photo of the sky over the buildings outside), we experienced snow shaped like tiny little snowballs, we drove up to the Santa Fe ski area and saw snow-covered trees, we got caught in a crazy snowstorm that made us feel like we were Han Solo hyperdriving through space, and we geeked out on a roadside attraction full of those funny little plywood art thingies that you put your head in for photos. That was in the most adorable town of all around here, Madrid (pronounced like Bad-rid, accent on the first syllable). Some great restaurants, shops and live music, don’t say we didn’t tell you to stop there because we did.

Go see the Key Frances Band at the Mine Shaft Cantina in Madrid. You won’t be sorry. Especially on a beautiful day. (Ugh, didn’t write down the name of the band, sorry).

Also, if you like mysteries or funky art, go to Meow Wolf. Just go. It’s unique, although I highly recommend going when kids are in school if you don’t want to be overrun. And if you don’t want to work on solving the puzzles, you still might like it but you might not think it’s worth the $25 admission fee. We stayed 6 hours so, it was worth it to us, even if I think they need to work on shorter clues for the next rendition!

Jim through the wormhole

“They” are always watching

My fav, the 3D art (glasses required)

Lovely quote: When in doubt, just doubt your doubt.

For our final (up to now) adventure, we took the tram up to Sandia Peak, which was breathtaking. It has the longest cable span in the US (world?), so they say. If you are afraid of heights, I’d advise against it though! And last but definitely not least, we availed ourselves of the iconic spa here, 10,000 Waves. Very Japanese, very relaxing, expensive but not crazy so unless you do what we did and get the Shiatsu 80 minute massage, the head/neck massage, the foot/leg massage, the facial and a regular mini-massage. That’s a bit pricey, but it was a celebration and so, we splurged. Don’t forget to build in time for the baths, the sauna, etc. I hear you can even go to the dining room in your spa robe!

That’s it for now. I guess that’s enough. I’ll have one more post from our weekend bonanza of cramming in all the sights we’ve missed so far, plus our drive home through Roswell and Carlsbad Caverns. So long for now!

Top of Sandia Peak

One of the big towers for the Sandia Peak Tram

Ah…10,000 Waves

  So, logically, next we went to a cool place… After going to Rockport and Port A in South Texas in Jan/Feb to try and outrun the cold (ahem, it was pretty cool and rainy most days but still, better than the weather in Dallas), our next adventure, just as Texas started to warm right up to comfy poolside temps, was to head off to Santa Fe, NM for all of April!