Kicking a Can
Featuring Haley Brown, Illustrator and Faerie
Come kick the can of creativity with Endless Beautiful and Haley Brown!
Haley Brown is an artist, educator, caregiver, dabbler, and part-time faerie based in Santa Cruz, California. She’s currently working on her third illustrated calendar and developing a portfolio for picture book illustration. Find more of her work at www.haleybrown.org or @ha.ley.brown.
That’s what they said anyway. Until Paul Peroni came to town. Riding his pony. Laughing and pointing at all the girls. Red velvet bag of tricks. A slender ferret with a bent nose hiding at the bottom. Some dusty vials filled with blue fairy dust or snot. A sawed off head of cabbage, stinking in the heat.
The metal parrot riding up ten feet higher than the pony. Jawwing at the dogs and the green leaves. His body encrusted with bits of diamond, eyes made from rubies.
“You better buy me a drink Paul Peroni!” yelled the parrot. Old Paul laughed and lit a cigarette on the wrong end. Had been drunk for a decade. At least that was the story that he liked to tell.
The pony was the best thing that Paul had. It was grey. More of a jackass than a pony, but the parrot had insisted on the naming. His eyes gleamed red and black like molten rock at night around the fire, and he would say, leave the name, it has been written. Those watching grabbed their balls in terror and Paul tipped off his stool and landed on his ass, laughing.
The parrot was something old and not of this world, but who was this Peronious Paul? He seemed to be made of fleshy rubber or at least flesh. He laughed like a boy bowling for Coca Cola bottles and bottle rockets. His laughing eyes hidden behind round smoke colored lenses.
Somebody said Paul used to drive truck. Long-haul from Talahassee to Tacoma. Radioactive isotopes. The types of trucks you see with the Air Force or NASA stars on them. Others said he had been a preacher. That the parrot had appeared before Paul in Franklin, asked him to join it on it’s crusade.
Creepy either way.