The House of Mystery

The Art Lover

by Starsky Hutch 76

The long nosed, bespectacled man looked up from his book, peering over his glasses. “Good evening! It’s so nice to see you again, here at my humble abode. I was just reading a book on art history. Do you enjoy the arts? I do. What I can grasp of them. There are so many different styles of art. Sometimes, it’s really quite subjective what one can consider art.

“This reminds me of a couple I once knew: Jamie and Laura. They were really quite opposite. Jamie considered himself an artist while Laura was more the pragmatic type. Theirs is a story I like to call `The Art Lover’.”
* * * * *

 

The cold air whipped around Jamie, causing his body to shake uncontrollably. It was also ripping to shreds a banner that one of the fraternities had put up to advertise one of their activities. Luckily for them, it was already Thursday and those they were aiming their message to had already seen it. Since that wasn’t really Jamie’s sort of thing, he didn’t care one way or the other.

Right now, all he cared about was the fact that the concrete of the railing had soaked up the cold and was doing its best to transfer it to him. He could see the skin beneath his fingernails turning blue. The temperature didn’t make for a very hospitable environment. Only the day before, one could have found a crowd congregating at that very spot to smoke and socialize. Now, those who wanted to socialize did it in the snack area, and the ashtray mounted on the wall opposite him was filled with half smoked cigarettes because the smokers weren’t willing to freeze to satisfy their nicotine cravings. One of those cigarettes was his, left over from the break in his earlier class when the cold had driven him indoors. He wasn’t enduring it now much better than he had then and he was beginning to think he could have picked a better spot to pick for the landscape he had been commissioned to do.

“How’s the painting coming?” he heard a voice say. Jamie turned around to see who was speaking and saw his fiancée, Laura, walking towards him. He hadn’t recognized her voice at first. The sudden change in weather had caused her to catch cold and now she spoke with a throaty, Lauren Bacall-ish voice.

“It’s not a painting yet,” he answered. “I’m still doing a few preliminary sketches and freezing my butt off in the process.”

“Don’t do that,” she said coyly. “It’s such a nice butt.”

He pulled her close to him and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I thought about you today.”

“Yeah?” she said softly as she brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“Yeah. There’s going to be a student art show in a few weeks, and I need something to knock the judges’ socks off.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be any trouble for you. You’re a wonderful artist,” she said, laying her head on his chest. “But what does that have to do with me?”

“I want to do a sculpture. A statue. And since I want it to be the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen, I’m going to need you to pose for me.”

“What kind of statue?”

“A nude.”

She looked up at him and said, “I’m sorry, Jamie. I can’t. I’m not comfortable with the idea of posing nude.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you be shy with me?” Jamie asked.

“Not you. Everybody else on campus. You’ll be out in another semester, but I still have to go to school here. I don’t want everybody seeing me like that.”

“This will be faculty from the art department. Not a bunch of drooling, sex-starved maniacs. They see nudes all the time. Their only interest in it would be artistic.”

Laura gave a half smirk that said, “Yeah, right. I’m sorry. I just can’t. Why can’t you just hire a model?”

“You know I can’t afford one. Besides, you’ve taken a couple of drawing courses. You know what a lot of these models look like: people who should never take their clothes off in front of anybody. I want this piece to be perfect. I want it to be the best thing that’s ever entered this show.”

“And you feel that you need me to pose for it in order for it to be that way. I’m flattered, Jamie. I really am. But I’d just die if anyone saw a nude of me. You know that more than just the art department would see it. Knowing you, you’d end up winning the thing and then your piece would end up being put on display for everyone to see.”

Jamie gave a halfhearted display at her compliment.

Laura put her hand on his cheek and said, “This is real important to you, isn’t it?”

“I really want to win this thing.”

“And you will, babe. You’re great at what you do. If there’s anything else I can help you with, besides posing, I will.”

“No, there’s nothing else,” Jamie said, downcast. “That was it.”

“Well, if you think of anything, let me know,” she said, resting her head on her arm.

“Sure,” Jamie said, gazing off into the distance. “If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”

Without Laura to pose for him, Jamie was going to have to work strictly from his imagination. He tried to find as much reference material as he could to help him put an image together to work from. His sister gave him several of her old fashion magazines, which were filled with pictures of some of the most beautiful women in the world. He also found stacks of old Playboys at the flea market that he was able to buy for practically nothing. He was able to take the best parts of different pictures to make preliminary sketches in order to get an image of what he thought the perfect woman would look like.

When he finally had an idea of what it was he wanted to show, he was ready to begin work on the sculpture itself. He put together a framework for the skeleton of the figure. He had chosen to have the figure on its knees, leaning forward with her back arched, her arms to the side, and her face raised up as if she were looking into the sun but with her eyes closed. Her long blonde hair would be slicked back as if she had just come out of the water. Her skin, too, would look as if it were beaded with water droplets.

Finally, he was ready to begin work with the clay. He popped a new age cassette into his stereo. It was part of his work routine. Once, he had taken a class on drawing on the right side of the brain; the instructor had played new age music which seemed to lull him into an artistic trance and he had produced the best work he had ever done. Since that day, he had always played new age music when he worked. He pushed the play button, and the room was filled with soothing music accompanied by ocean sounds and sea gulls.

Jamie began to pack the clay onto the skeletal framework. The love he felt for creating began to fill his heart. He wasn’t an experienced sculptor, having always preferred painting, but it seemed as if this were an art form he could come to enjoy even more. The clay had a pleasant feeling as he worked it with his fingers. As the sculpture began to take on a more humanoid appearance, he pictured how beautiful it would look after he was finished. It would be more beautiful than any woman who had ever lived.

Finally, he came to the part where he did the actual sculpting. He gave more care to creating her features than he had ever given towards anything he had ever done. As she began to look more and more realistic, he began to think of her as he would a real person, rather than a dead thing made of clay. He would often talk to her in a soothing, comforting voice, saying things like, “Almost through, almost through. You’re going to look so pretty after I’m done.”

The trouble was, he couldn’t seem to finish. There were always things he could find to do to improve her. He was never satisfied with what he had done and would always have to come back to touch up his previous work. He wanted her to be perfect in every way. It became his driving passion. It was more important than eating. It was more important than sleeping. It became more important than Laura.

Laura didn’t take kindly to all the dates he had broken. He never seemed to have time for her anymore. He was always working on that stupid statue. She came to his studio to voice her complaints and was shocked at what she saw. Jamie looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week. He hadn’t shaven in days and he was much thinner than the last time she had seen him. His hair was a tangled, unwashed mess filled with bits of clay. His clothes were equally smeared with clay from days of work.

“What are you doing here?” he asked dizzily, grimacing at the light that poured in the doorway.

“Hi yourself,” she snapped at him. “That’s some way to greet someone you’re supposed to be in love with. Why haven’t you been returning my calls? I’ve left message after message on your machine, but you’ve never bothered to call me back.”

“I haven’t been checking my messages. I didn’t want to interrupt my work on the sculpture.”

“Yeah,” she said, barging through the doorway past him, “I just bet you didn’t. How is it coming along, by the way?” Laura made a beeline towards the center of the room where the sculpture was hidden underneath a canvas drop cloth. She was just about to pull it away to reveal what was hidden underneath when Jamie grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around to face her icy stare.

“Don’t. I don’t want anyone to see it until I’m finished.”

“Why?” Laura asked, emotion causing her voice to shake. The look in his eyes unnerved her. Jamie was normally a very laid-back and easygoing guy. “You’re usually in such a hurry to show off your work that you let me see it in progress.”

“Well, not this time,” he growled.

“Come on, Jamie. Let me see it. It can’t be that bad.”

“Bad?” Jamie said, aghast. “Bad? My God! It’s not bad. It’s wonderful!”

She looked at him strangely and said, “So what’s your problem?”

Jamie began to realize how strange his behavior must have seemed to her, so he tried to force a smile. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“You’re really acting weird, Jamie. I think you need professional help.”

“Oh great. You’re feeling neglected, so suddenly I’m going crazy,” Jamie said, waving his arms dramatically. “If you don’t think I’m spending enough time with you, it’s your own damn fault! I asked you to pose for me, but no-o-o-o. You were afraid to have the faculty see your tits!”

“Don’t give me that pseudo-intellectual bullshit about art people looking at nudity differently than everyone else, Jamie,” Laura said. “They get off the same way everyone else does.”

“You always have to reduce everything down to the lowest common denominator, don’t you?”

“Don’t try to turn this around on me like I’m the one acting strange. You’re obsessed with this thing.” She walked over to the wall and picked up a stretched canvas that was resting against it. “This is the sketch for the landscape you were doing for next year’s campus handbook. You were working on this when you asked me to pose. That was over three weeks ago!”

“I’ll get around to it.”

“It’s too late. They’ve already given the assignment to someone else.”

“Oh well…”

“Oh well? That’s all you have to say about it? Oh well? Don’t you care about anything anymore? You’re letting everything go to hell!”

“Laura, if you’re through ranting, I really need to get back to work.” Jamie turned his back on her and began setting his tools by the sculpture. As he pushed the play button on his stereo, the music with the ocean sounds and sea gulls began to fill the room once more. He walked to the sink and began to fill a bucket with water, then turned to Laura and said, “Don’t forget to shut the door on your way out. I like to keep the room a certain temperature to keep the clay from drying out too quickly.” Laura’s face turned beat red and she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Jamie carefully lifted the drop cloth off of the sculpture and looked down at her lovingly. “She just doesn’t understand, does she?” Then he kissed her on the lips.

More time passed and Jamie finally reached a point where he didn’t see how he could possibly improve upon her. If he tried to do anything else, he would run the risk of creating flaws, and he would sooner bring harm to himself than to her. It was time for the firing.

Through the whole process, he was a nervous wreck. He paced back and forth during the whole of the duration she had to spend in the kiln. What if something happened to her during the firing? The concept was too horrifying to think of. Sometimes, clay could crack and break apart during a firing. Sometimes, air trapped inside could bubble to the surface where it would pop, leaving a crater. He prayed that nothing like that would happen here.

When he removed her from the kiln, he was overjoyed to see that she was unharmed. The firing had been a complete success. Her skin was completely unmarked, without the slightest imperfection to mar her flawless beauty.

Jamie began to add layers of paint to try and make her more realistic. Layer after layer of paint was added to her surface in an attempt to create the appearance of smooth skin. He needed to put on enough paint to rid her of the appearance of being made of clay. As the layers grew into the hundreds, it became impossible to tell the difference between her and a live woman.

His pride in her appearance was overwhelming. It filled his heart till he thought it would burst. She was so perfect. It was beyond belief. The fact that he had made her from his own two hands made it all the more perfect. She was a part of him. A product of his love.

Jamie finally collapsed from exhaustion. In his fervor of creativity, sleep had become a distant memory. He had finally reached the point where his body could no longer keep up with the pace he had kept for the last several weeks.

The sleep he entered was so deep that he didn’t hear Laura sneaking into his studio. She wasn’t very adept at this sort of espionage, so she found herself tripping over art supplies and crunching fast food delivery cartons underneath her feet. His sleep was so deep, though, that he didn’t hear the racket she was making.

She walked over to the center of the large room towards the sculpture that was hidden underneath the drop cloth. The bat she was carrying in her left hand tapped lightly against the side of her leg as she moved towards it. When she yanked off the drop cloth, her jaw dropped in shock.

The statue underneath seemed real in every way. There was no visible difference between her and an actual live woman aside from the fact that she possessed a radiance that made her seem to glow. Laura even saw tiny pours in the skin. Eerily, it seemed as if the statue were almost breathing.

This was beyond anything Jamie had ever been capable of. She knew Jamie was good, but this was too good. Not even Michelangelo was this good. It made his statue of David seem like a child’s play dough figure.

Laura almost regretted what she had to do. She looked over to the sofa where Jamie lay collapsed in a heap and she felt a pang of sadness. He would never understand. He had always said she never took his art seriously and this might prove it to him. This was his best work and she was about to destroy it. Hell, it was the best work anyone had ever done. He might hate her for it. He had formed an unhealthy obsession for the statue, though, and this was the only way to break him of it. He had spent over five weeks locked in his studio loft. If she didn’t free him of his sickness, he might never leave. This was the only way to set him free. She had to do it because of her love for him. Even if it meant he would end up hating her.

She reared back with the bat, ready to smash the statue. The eyelids of the sculpture suddenly popped open and stared angrily at her with piercing pale blue eyes. The bat fell to the floor with a hollow aluminum thud.

Jamie was wrested out of his slumber by a quiet, soft voice that came to him breathlessly, whispering into his ear, “Jamie… please help me, Jamie. I need you.” He rose up groggily and saw Laura picking her bat up off the floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jamie exclaimed, rushing over to grab her.

“Its eyes! It opened its eyes! The thing’s alive!” Laura shrieked frantically.

“Now who’s lost their mind? You’re the one who’s obsessed with it. I can’t believe you broke in here and were going to smash her. My God! You were trying to convince me I was crazy when you’re capable of something like this!”

“Please, Jamie. Don’t be mad at me. I had to do it,” Laura pleaded. “I had to get rid of her so that we could be together again.”

“There’s no way that’s going to happen now. This is the final straw. What you tried to do is unforgivable!” Jamie bellowed.

“I did it for you,” she sobbed. “She’s taking over your life.”

“There you go again, anthropomorphacizing her. She’s a statue!”

“She’s alive. I saw her open her eyes! She looked right at me!”

“You’re insane! This is the most pitiful thing I’ve ever seen! You’re jealous of a statue! Since you couldn’t get rid of her, you think you can scare me into doing it! This is beyond belief. You’re demented. This is one of those fatal attraction things!” Jamie grabbed her arm and started to march her to the door. “I want your ass out of here right now!”

“I’m not crazy!” she sniffed. “It really happened. She’s not just a statue. There’s something unnatural about her.”

“Oh, please,” Jamie groaned, rubbing his head wearily. “Laura, would you please just stop?”

“You can’t stay here with her. There’s something wrong with her. I’m scared, Jamie. Please don’t stay here with her. Come home with me.”

“Come home with you? With you?!!” he shouted, opening the front door. “I never want to see you again. When you try to destroy my work, you’re trying to destroy a part of me! I’m sure you wouldn’t understand that, though, since you’ve never taken my work seriously anyway!” He pushed her through the doorway and snarled, “Don’t try to call me. I’m going to have my number changed, and I really don’t want to hear from you.”

“Jamie, please….”

Jamie slammed the door on her and then leaned against the door, emotionally exhausted, with his arm draped across his forehead. “God, why can’t I ever meet anyone stable?”

He walked over to the statue, checking to make sure she wasn’t damaged. He ran his hand lovingly along the side of her face and traced his finger along her lips. Overcome with passion, he dropped to his knees and embraced her. Tears welled up in his eyes and ran down his face. “Oh God. She’s right. I am obsessed with you. If only she was right. If only you really were alive.”

The cold stone she was made of suddenly felt soft, warm, and alive. He felt arms embrace him and fingers run through his hair. He looked up and saw her looking up at him with love in her eyes.

“She was telling the truth,” he gasped, emotion choking his voice.

She put her hands on the sides of his face. “We can,” she said in a melodious voice. She then brought his face up to hers and kissed him with a feverish ardor.

The next day, Laura had Jamie’s landlord unlock his studio door, telling him that she thought he was in trouble. “I hope you’re right about this, miss. I know these artist types like their privacy. I don’t want you getting him pissed off at me. I mean, I don’t hope he’s in trouble. I mean, … you know what I mean.”

“I’m sure I’m right. I can’t go into all the details because you’d think I was crazy, but I have to make sure he’s OK.”

She looked towards the center of the room and saw the familiar drop cloth underneath. She moved towards it slowly, afraid to approach it after seeing it open its eyes the night before.

“Is that the statue he was working on?” the landlord asked.

“Yeah, Laura replied meekly, toughing the canvas drop cloth.

“Well, lets see it! I heard him talking about it before he got started, but I haven’t see or heard from him since then and I’ve been real curious.” He walked over and ripped off the drop cloth.

Laura covered her mouth, stifling a scream. Her eyes grew wide with fear as she stared at the two figures caught in an embrace.

“Hey! That’s pretty good!” the landlord commented. “It looks just like him. I didn’t know he was going to do a self-portrait. Who’s the chick?”

Laura walked towards the statue and Jamie. She touched his shoulder and hoped he would turn around, but all she felt was cold stone.