The Adventures Of Bette Porter and Sissee Gardner After Yale (Part 6, Chapter 4)

PART SIX: TIJUANA, MEXIC

Chapter 4

As soon as the door opened, I involuntarily gagged from the smell. I walked in ever so reluctantly. It was hard to identify the stench since it was probably a mix of many things, like cigarettes, wood smoke, body odor, grease, corn tortillas, oil paint and turpentine. I put my hand up to my mouth and nose for protection, stepping aside while the others went forward.

Bette followed the Chavez brothers. I stayed behind close to the door which was left open. I saw it as letting in fresh air, more light and as a possible escape if needed.

There were two rooms. Chavez walked on through the first one which was absolutely pathetic. Right in the middle of it was an old pot belly stove with a pipe reaching up to the roof and beyond. Their fuel on the side appeared to be driftwood, some lumber scraps and chunks of coal. I saw a big utility spindle posing as a kitchen table with rustic stools around it. There was a green camp stove sitting on a plank held up by cinder blocks. Next to the stove was a wash basin and a plastic jug of water.

The furniture consisted of automobile seats which were in bad shape. On the dirt floor were two pallets on top of which was a mattress of hay. Mexican patterned wool blankets, the kind we saw in the shops, were stacked in several layers over the beds with each having a dirty pillow on the top.

Chavez led Bette into a second room. When my eyes adjusted to the interior, I followed them cautiously. It was obviously the source of the paint and turpentine. The biggest difference between the two rooms was that this one had better natural light. I looked above and saw a ceiling of a clear plastic patio roof which was his only source of illumination.

Scattered about were dozens of paintings, one leaning against the other, in a variety of shapes and sizes. They were all stretched canvas on a soft wooden frame. I heard Bette literally gasp when she saw them.

There was one canvas sitting on an easel, only just begun with a charcoal sketch. Along side was a crude table upon which were assorted tubes of oil paint, a can of turpentine, a basket full of brushes and a palette which all by itself could have been an abstract painting.