Read Online dissonance. (a Böhme novel) by Sarah Buhl - Free Book Online Page A

building open with his foot and held it to let me pass with my own boxes.
    “No, not me—I’m not an artist. Unless you count roofing as art,” I said.
    “Don’t let Blake fool you. He does wood carvings, but he doesn’t think it’s art. Wynn and I’ve told him he needs to bring them in sometime,” Karl said.
    “They’re just a hobby. It’s not art.” I kept my face neutral, not wanting to share that they were more than a hobby to me. They were a way for me to slow down and think.
    “I beg to differ mon frère,” Karl said as he pressed the button to call the freight elevator. “We can stack them on here, and then head up with them at once,” he said as he opened the elevator and set his boxes on a cart.
    I turned to head back to get more boxes when my phone buzzed with another message.
    Brecken McNett: I’m going to an exhibit tonight. Why the hell did you send me that shitty-ass video of He-Man singing What’s Up?
    I scrolled back to my original message and laughed. “What the fuck Karl,” I said to myself.
    I sent my reply as Mason came up behind me to grab more boxes. “Ah, you talking to Brecken?” he asked with a smile. It was creepy that the kid was looking over my shoulder at my phone, but I ignored it. There were always odd people hanging out here.
    “Does everyone here know her?” I asked.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked with surprise.
    “No hidden meaning, just asking because everyone knows her but me.” I shrugged.
    “Well, it looks as though you’re working on that. I don’t know her,” he said absently as he grabbed more boxes. “But I do know of her. Karl mentioned her. I saw her show last night.” He shrugged and turned to go back in the building.
    Once we loaded the elevator with the boxes, we went up to the gallery.
    I leaned on the stack of boxes as the freight elevator began to rise and nodded to Mason, “So how old are you, Mason?”
    He put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and shrugged, “I’m eighteen. I started coming here a couple weeks ago. I moved to town after my birthday. I was ready to get out of my house.”
    “Cool. Where do you live?” I asked.
    “I’m staying with Pike now. I came in here one day and we got to talking. We have similar histories and I needed a place to stay, he offered,” he shrugged as he looked to Karl. Karl absently stared at the ceiling of the elevator. He looked as though he were solving a puzzle within the patterns of the grated ceiling.
    “Pike’s a good guy, and it sounds as if you guys have a house full then when Karl’s there,” I said as the elevator stopped and Karl opened the gate to exit.
    “Yeah he is. He’s trying to help me with things,” Mason said hesitantly as he lifted three boxes off the top of the stack.
    “Speak of the devil,” I said, hearing Pike laugh around the corner. We walked farther into the gallery and found Pike sitting in his usual spot.
    Since he retired from his day job of being a mechanic, he was here most the time. Pike and Sid were two of the originals at the Böhme and over the years it has grown to a larger group of non-cons as I call them—short for non-conventional.
    Pike stepped away from the desk and gave my back a pat. “Blake. How you doing, man?”
    “I’m here, still trying to wake up, but I’m here. And you?” I asked.
    “I’m living the dream,” he said with a nod and raise of his eyebrow. Then he began to twist the braid that formed his long beard. Pike was a big guy who always wore overalls and a muscle tee under them. He was awesome.
    Pike turned to the kid. “Mason, my boy. You never cease to surprise me at how good a teenager could be. The world is full of lies when it comes to young people. You, my boy, are a sign that we might be evolving and not devolving.”
    Mason gave a shy laugh and turned away, trying to ignore the compliment. “Where do you want us to put these Pike?”
    “Go ahead and put them in the room with the stage. We’re