The Vase

“Wait, what? You bought what?” she asked, not sure she heard him correctly.

Jake repeated, “I bought modeling clay.”

“Huh!”

Marty crossed her arms, leaned against the door jamb, and looked at him quizzically.

“And just what do you propose to do with modeling clay?”

“Okay, sis, you know I like to draw. What if I use my drawing and using the clay, make little action figures for our cousins? Don’t you think they might get a kick out of them?”

He sounded so enthusiastic, she didn’t want to burst his happy bubble, but still found herself asking. “Uh, do you even know what to do with it?”

“Heck, yeah. I’ve been reading a lot about it. I wrote down all the steps but of course the first batch or two will be trial runs. I only bought a small amount to try it out. We’ll see how it goes.”

Marty uncrossed her arms, pushed off the wall, and as she headed out the room, said, “Okay, then, I’ll leave you to your madness but if you need any help, just let me know.”

Jake gave her a huge grin and said, “Gee, thanks, Sis, I will use, and I absolutely do appreciate your offer. After all, you ARE the sculpture expert.”

She shook her head as she left the room and wondered to herself, What the heck did I just get myself into? Some sculpture expert! All I ever did was carve a few flowers, and even they didn’t turn out so great.

While Marty didn’t say as much to her brother, she already felt defeated.

The following afternoon, Jake called out to his sister. “Hey Marty! Come in here for a minute.”

He heard her frustration. “Ugh! Why always when I’m in the middle of my own project?”

Jake smiled and simply said, “Because, I love you, that’s why and also because I want your opinion – which, by the way, I value dearly!”

She rolled her eyes and walked to his desk. “Omg! Jake, could you be any more transparent?” She leaned over his shoulder. “So, what do you want?”

“Here, take a look at these and tell me what you think. Be careful, though; they’re still soft clay.”

Gently picking up the first one, she smiled as she turned it over in her hand to examine each side. “Wow, J, I’m impressed. This is good but it’s a … a dinosaur! I thought you were going to make toys for the kids.”

“Come on, Marty, all kids like dinosaurs. They’re fun! So, what do you think? Are they good enough to bake?”

Her grin grew. “Oh, yeah! definitely. But you better wait until tomorrow. Mom and dad will be home in about two hours, and you’ll want the oven to have time to cool before she starts dinner.”

Jake looked at his sister. “I thought you were cooking tonight. What happened?”

“Mom wants to use the leftovers. I’ll be cooking tomorrow.”

“Hmm, two hours. Marty, that’s perfect. The directions say I need to set the oven at 275° and bake my pieces for anywhere from 15 – 30 minutes per quarter-inch thickness. These should take about 30 minutes each. So, if I put all four in, they should be done in about 30-40 minutes. According to what I read, after they’ve cooled enough to touch, I should press the bottom with my thumbnail. My nail should leave a dent but not penetrate.”

“Huh, sounds like you have everything under control. So, what do you need me for?”

“Well, sis, first of all, your opinion. Secondly, your encouragement, and lastly, and hopefully, your, “he looked at her with such anticipation as he finished, “praise?”

Marty wrapped her arms around her brother, smiled and said, “Oh, Jake, you’ll always have my praise”, then gave him a gentle punch in the shoulder and finished with, “unless you screw up really bad. Then, rather than praise, I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

He laughed and hugged her back.

“Okay, then, I’ll get mom’s baking sheet ready, and I’ll set the oven. You start bringing in your little dinosaurs.”

She turned and left the room.

His first attempt wasn’t bad. His almost-toys were a little under done so he put them back in the oven for another ten minutes. Using the tongs he bought at the hobby shop, he gently took them from the baking sheet and set them on the wooden block he had set aside. Once they cooled, he checked them again and they seemed perfect.

Jake jumped from his chair, grabbed his sister, and yelled, “Marty, oh Marty! We did it! We made dinosaur toys! Wowie!” He began to pull her in a jumping dance.

She laughed and danced with him but said as she tried to catch her breath, “I didn’t do a thing but turn the oven on. You, my dear little brother, did it all! I’m so proud of you. But, not trying to burst your bubble, you still need to paint them.”

“Got that all under control, Sis.”

For the next few weeks, he worked on more shapes and images. He made a few more dinosaurs, then some dragons, and tried his hand at action figures. Just the simple ones since he was still just starting his hobby. Then an idea struck him. He could barely contain his enthusiasm but knew he had to keep this secret for another two weeks.

Marty’s sixteenth birthday was approaching and for months, he had no idea what to get her. After all, he thought, what kind of jewelry does a kid brother buy his older sister? He thought about clothes. Heck NO! he thought with horror. He was not about to walk into a store and buy girl’s clothes! Flowers? He knew she liked flowers, but they died. He wanted to give her something that would last. And that’s where his idea began to grow.

Every time Marty was out with her friends, Jake got to work. He formed. He molded. He formed again. Remolded. Finally satisfied, he placed it in the oven but only cooked it partially through. Once it cooled, he removed it and painted the outside, then glazed the inside to make it waterproof. After baking it for an additional thirty minutes, he knew it was finished. The clay was hardened to perfection. The glaze was shiny and waterproof. The paint – well, he hoped she like it.

When she opened the box, she squealed with delight. “Oh, Jake, I LOVE it! I absolutely love it.

He laughed a little and said, “Sis, you have an original. I sincerely doubt I’ll ever make another. That was some job!”

She smiled and said, “Yes, I do have an original. Did you know you left your thumbprint on its lip?”

Jake looked carefully and, indeed, saw his thumbprint. She shook his head and said, “Well, so much for perfection.”

As his parents marveled at his creativity, his mom laughed and said, “At least you gave it to your sister and not a stranger. We can keep your thumbprint in the family.”

It's now been about twenty years since Jake gave Marty this one-of-a-kind gift and she still has and cherishes it. Each birthday, she’ll cut a few flowers from her backyard and place them in the beautiful vase her brother painstakingly made so many years ago.