Chapter 3: The painting
The sun was high in the sky by the time Christian got his canvas, paints, and easel into his compact car. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he steered the vehicle along the winding cliff roads, he parked on top of the hill in front of the farm with an impressive view. Rolling hills, dense green foliage, and a long, sandy beach greeted him. He worked quickly, setting up his easel and unscrewing the lids on his paint pots. Today was the day.
The fortune teller had been clear - 1:22 pm, he had said, would be the moment that Christian would receive ultimate clarity about his feelings for Michiel. Christian checked his watch for the hundredth time as he painted the vibrant colors of the Bali landscape, rolling hills and clear blue water. The butterflies in his stomach refused to subside, and he felt a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling up inside of him.
Meanwhile, Michiel worked on the farm nearby, clearing weeds and tilling the soil.
He noticed Christian at his spot on the grassy mountain, perched like a lone painter, so he decided to take a break and walk up for a chat.
"Hey there," Michiel called out to Christian from below. "Fancy meeting you here again."
Christian turned to face him, wiping his hands on his paint-splattered jeans. He couldn't hide the electricity that hummed between them. The two men exchanged a few pleasantries, and then Christian glanced at his watch.
It was only 1:15 pm. He fidgeted, checking the time every few seconds. Michiel leaned against the rail next to him, watching with a bemused expression. “Here” Michiel handed me a bottle of water. I gracefully accepted. The bottle was ice cold, water dripped down from it from the condensation. “I’ve seen you working here all day. But noticed you didn’t drink. It’s important to stay hydrated in this tropical weather. Wouldn’t want you to get a sunstroke”. I couldn’t help but notice his accent. It sounded foreign, not like a native English speaker. I checked my watch 1:16PM. I blushed a bit “I guess I got lost in time. I couldn’t get back to this place fast enough”. Michiel smiled politely and pointed “What are you painting there?”. Christian hesitated, a flush creeping up his cheeks. “I, uh, I just thought this view would make for a really great painting, that's all.” He took a deep breath, feeling both vulnerable and strangely aroused by Michiel's nearness. “Actually, I come here most days to paint. It’s peaceful, the view is inspiring, the farm work isn’t that hard. But fuck! It’s heavy work. I admire you for it.
I could never do the manual labor you guys do. You’re massive.” I glanced at his muscular arms, and he grinned at my awkward attempt to flatter him.
Michiel now stood in front of the canvas. Observing my work. “Hey I know that guy” he said with a chuckle. In the middle of the canvas I had painted Michiels sweaty body as he walked through the fields filled with the strange red fruit. “That’s quite flattering. Wish my muscles were bigger tho”. Christian raised an eyebrow. “That’s funny” I chuckled “Rebecca told me you’d say something like that”.
“Oh so you met Rebecca” he responded with a smile. “She’s a wonderful person. But don’t let her get to your head”.
Michiel leaned in closer to inspect the details of Christian’s painting. He smelled like earth and sweat, a scent that Christian found strangely intoxicating. Christian’s heart raced as he watched the giant man scrutinize his work. He couldn’t understand why the thought of this burly farmer admiring his painting turned him on so much.
Suddenly, Christian looked at his watch again. 1:22 pm.
“Rebecca told me something else too” “What’s that?” Michiel raised an eyebrow. “She told me you are quite the ladies men”.
Michiel chuckled “Well yea.. when I moved to the farm a few years ago I’d be up all night. Fucking anything in my path. Anything, anyone. But that’s not really me anymore. I came to this place for some solitude. I’ve been betrayed many times by people in my past. I was just over it. So I figured, might as well live alone. In the middle of nowhere, back to basics. A self sustaining farm. But even a big man like me get’s lonely sometimes. So I’d fuck to forget my troubles”. Michiel looked into the distance, his eyes looked sad. He took a big gulp from his water bottle. Christian couldn't help but notice how the muscles in his arms flexed as he did so. "I think what you're doing here is incredible," Christian said, nodding towards the farm. "It's so much harder than anything I've ever done."
Michiel chuckled. "I wouldn't say that. Being a painter can't be easy."
Christian blushed, feeling a spark of attraction towards this giant man. Michiel's presence was overwhelming, yet comforting at the same time.
“Anyway. Your painting is inaccurate.” I looked up shocked at the sudden remark. “You’ve clearly never seen the Zingiber zerumbet plant up close ever. I see them every day.” Michiel’s words cut through Christian's shock. He continued speaking, pointing towards the Zingiber zerumbet plant. “These plants, they're all around the farm. You clearly haven't really studied it. Those aren't just red stalks, they are tiny white buds that bloom in the morning of each day. It’s a red ginger. A rare plant which holds several healing properties. I harvest it daily and sell to local herbal stores which fetch me a good price”. As I saw his enthusiasm for the plant, I was captivated by his knowledge about it.
I asked, "How did you become so knowledgeable about plants and farming?"
Michiel shrugged, a modest smile playing on his lips. "It's just something I grew up with, I guess. Back in Holland, my parents had a small farm where we grew our own food and herbs. I used to help them out whenever I could.
It was a good way to get away from the bullying. I would spend hours in the field, tending to the crops. I felt alive and at peace when I was surrounded by nature."
Christian listened to Michiel’s words, feeling a sense of admiration for the giant man. There was something about him that was so genuine and earnest. He couldn't help but be intrigued by his life experiences.
"I never would have guessed that you grew up on a farm," Christian said, genuinely surprised.
"You don't seem like the farm type at all."
Michiel laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What do you mean, the farm type?"
"I don't know," Christian admitted. "You just seem so...worldly, I guess. Like you've been everywhere and done everything. I can't imagine you growing up in a small town in Holland, tending to crops and livestock."
Michiel smiled mysteriously, his gaze lingering on Christian for a few seconds too long.
“Come let me show you the crops up close”.
Michiel offered as he walked away. Christian hesitated for a moment, but the curiosity got the better of him. He followed Michiel through the fields, admiring the way he moved with such confidence and ease. They approached a row of Zingiber zerumbet plants, and Michiel crouched down to point out the delicate white buds that were beginning to bloom. I knelt down beside him, our shoulders brushing against each other.
Michiel noticed the tension between them and looked at me with a sideways glance.
"You seem nervous," he said, his voice gentle. Wait the time. I forgot about the time. I checked my watch again. 1:26PM. Wait. Nothing happened? Did I miss it? Did nothing happen?
Christian felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now that it was here, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anti-climax.
"I'm not nervous," Christian replied, trying to sound confident. But his voice betrayed him, cracking slightly as he spoke.
Michiel looked at him with a knowing smile. "Sure you're not. You've been checking your watch every five minutes."
Christian couldn't help but be embarrassed by the comment. He felt exposed, vulnerable even.
He couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards Michiel, but he didn't know how to handle it. He had always been a bit naive when it came to matters of the heart, and this was something entirely new to him.
“Look.” Michiel pointed towards the sort of oval shaped plant the size of a cucumber. “This plant is special because it consists of this beautiful patterns of scales. All of them perfectly aligned with eachother. Each scale produces a liquid. Sticky stuff that smells like ginger.”
Michiel got a bucket that stood beside him and put it in front of the plant. “When harvesting time comes, the plant turns this bright neon red. That’s when we milk them”. Michiels burly hands wrapped around the plant with precision. He started to milk the plant, stroking it up and down. As the ginger came rushing out. It fell onto the bucket with a soft plopping sound. Michiel's movements were methodical and precise, almost like a dance between him and the plant. Christian watched in fascination as the bucket slowly filled up with the sticky ginger liquid.
"This is amazing," Christian breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from the spectacle before him.
Michiel chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. "I told you it was something special."
The way Michiel milked the plant, it was strangely sensual. Christian couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal as he watched the giant man work. It was fascinating to see how something so mundane could be turned into something so mesmerizing. He felt like he was in a trance as he watched Michiel's hands move up and down the plant, the ginger juice spilling into the bucket.
It didn’t help these plants were basically penis shaped. I imagined being a plant. His firm hands around my cock.. ” Christian realized he was getting carried away by his own thoughts. He blushed as he snapped back to reality, becoming more aware of the presence of Michiel beside him.
Michiel noticed Christian's reaction and gave him a knowing smile. "Like what you see?" he asked, his voice husky. Christian blushed, feeling caught in the act.
Michiel stood up. The bucket filled with ginger juice in his hands. “Come on, you should try it. Follow me.”
Michiel stepped inside the house and Christian followed, feeling a sense of anticipation building up inside of him. The spacious kitchen led to the living room, where an oversized sofa sat in the middle. It was quaint but cozy.
Michiel put the bucket on the table and walked to the fridge. He opened it and took out a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. He poured each glass full and slid one towards Christian. “Let’s make a toast.” Michiel raised his glass and Christian followed suit.
“To new friends, new experiences, and new beginnings,” Michiel said with a wink. Christian’s heart skipped a beat as he clinked his glass against Michiel’s, staring into the giant man’s deep brown eyes. He couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards him, even if it made him uncomfortable.
They both downed their shots, the vodka burning a trail down Christian’s throat. Michiel poured another round and Christian hesitated for just a moment before accepting.
The second shot went down easier, and Christian felt a warmth spread through his chest. He couldn't help but notice the way Michiel's eyes gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, how his broad shoulders filled out his t-shirt, and how his muscular arms flexed as he poured another round.
As they sipped their third shots, Christian couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. He had never felt this way before, and he didn't know how to handle it. But there was something about Michiel that made him feel safe, protected even.
Michiel turned to the bucket and dipped his hand in. “This stuff, it’s used for all kinds of things. They use the smell for perfumes. It’s used in dishes for flavour, it’s used as a hairconditioner or a skincream. But here in Bali the locals belief it’s an ancient fruit that provides eternal youth”. Christian couldn’t help but chuckle. “I didn’t know that.” Michiel grabbed two shot glasses and poured them both a glass of the red ginger juice. “To eternal youth” he said, raising his glass to Christian. They clinked their glasses together, and downed the spicy, sweet liquid.
Christian felt the warmth of the ginger spread through his body, and it seemed to heighten his senses. He looked at Michiel, who was grinning at him with a twinkle in his eye. Christian couldn't help but blush, and he quickly looked away.
He felt like he was playing with fire, and he didn't know how to handle it. Michiel, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying Christian's discomfort. He poured another round of shots, and this time, he sat down next to Christian on the sofa.
As they continued to drink, Christian felt his anxiety slowly melt away. He found himself becoming more relaxed and open around Michiel. They talked about everything and anything - from art and travel to their deepest desires and fears.
I leaned in closer and gathered all my confidence to go in for the kiss. I closed my eyes, anticipating the feeling of Michiels lips. But instead I got smacked in the face with a cold liquid.
“Stay still” Michiel chuckled. “You should try this as skincream”. His thick fingers traced around my face as he spread the fresh ginger all over. I sucked in a breath, feeling the coolness of the ginger being rubbed onto my skin. My heart raced in my chest as his rough and calloused hand touched my face. I could smell the tartness of the ginger and feels its oil on my chin. As he chuckled and moved away, those few seconds felt like an eternity to me.
I opened my eyes, looking at him with a daze. He handed me the other shot glass with some left inside, “drink this, I promise it will do wonders for you”.
Wanting to please him, I downed the last of it and handed the empty glass back to him with a small smile.
The alcohol and ginger made me feel dizzy, my limbs felt heavy but in a pleasant way. Michiel noticed my flushed cheeks and smiled warmly at me. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, the combination of his touch and the drink.
He leaned in closer, so close that our noses were almost touching. I could smell the ginger on his fingers and the vodka on his breath.
“So uh.. nice chat but I’d better get back to work”. He stood up from the couch, leaving Christian feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief. Michiel's presence was overwhelming, in the best possible way. Christian couldn't help but feel drawn to him, despite his nerves and doubts.
As he watched Michiel walk out of the room, Christian couldn't help but feel a sense of longing wash over him.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew he had to get back to work too.
But before that, he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the Zingiber zerumbet plant, the way the delicate white buds had bloomed, and the way his painting captured the essence of their interactions.
As Christian packed up his things and headed back to his accommodation, he couldn't shake off the feeling of excitement that bubbled up inside of him. He couldn't wait to get back to the farm tomorrow and see Michiel again. But at the same time doubt filled his heart. He tried making advances and he knew Michiel knew. Yet why didn’t he acknowledge it? Why did he walk away? Perhaps it’s because I’m not his type? Maybe he didn’t feel the same way? Or maybe, just maybe, it was too soon for him to enter such a complex relationship. Christian sighed and shook his head as he thought about this. He was supposed to use this trip to gain clarity on his own feelings and life. But instead, he found himself entangled in the mystery of Michiel. The more time they spent together, the more questions he had about his own future.