The masterpiece

I was only a child. A bit closer to the purity of an ignorant, dependent, trusting infant’s heart.

And every now and then I saw him walking in the park. I can recall the heads turning when he passed by leaving some of his ocean-fragrance perfume behind for a moment. He was the great artist, the well known and acknowledged painter of countless marvelous pictures. He would always smile at the kids on the playground… but he never ever seemed to waste even a stray glance at me.

And on this soul-meltingly hot summer afternoon there I was sitting on the ground in my dirty ragged clothes gazing towards the velvety sky, not hoping for a glance of him, the great Tristan. To my greatest surprise he appeared seemingly out of nowhere. I lowered my eyelids not to look into those colorlessly glittering eyes, waiting to raise them again only after he would be far. But he didn’t move on. He stopped right in front of me, and lifted my head. I still looked away.

’Aren’t you Amy?’ – He asked softly.

I nodded, my nerves jumping inside of me.

I should have been at least more polite, but I just couldn’t help but blurt out right away…

‘How do you know my name?... We have never met before…sir’

‘Maybe you haven’t known me… but I have been watching you every day… I thought you were the kind of mild and simple beauty I wanted to paint a picture about…’

I thought I am dreaming or daydreaming… I was not beautiful at all.

‘Therefore… will you come?’

‘Me? Uncombed? In these stinky, filthy clothes? With this dirty face?’

Tristan did not reply… he kindly repeated:

‘Will you come?’

Whatever, here was a chance never to return… I had to grab it… even if it was not reality… beggars can never be choosers… So I just stood up, left everything I have been playing with, and followed, gazing at the ground constantly. Me the poor kid… and him… the rich, nicely dressed gentleman… I couldn’t help but wonder: How come he’s not ashamed to be seen with someone like me.

There I was in his home, gulping hot vanilla fragrance tea in a nice, new white dress, with clean black hair curling down on my elbow. Tristan’s pale faced wife admired her art for a minute, then she let me go. Then there were his two kids. A boy and a girl. Both beautiful and pale.

‘Ready, Amy?’ asked Tristan, picking up the brush. I said I was.

‘Very well then before we start… I want you to promise me something… I want you to look at the picture as it is still in process… so do not draw final conclusions by seeing a segment before it is whole… And please trust in me… that whatever you might see… this piece of art will be perfect in the end. All right?’

I nodded, though I did not really understand him. Why would he tell me to trust him? It was just a painting after all. Therefore I stood on the place he told me to stay, and gazed at the white canvas.

His kids stood by me. Tristan told me to stand still. Than he started working, and no more did he reply to any of my words.

I saw him grab the brush once again… his long fingers clutching the wood. Then he started painting. Light blue… ~ must be the sky…. A light, warm, happy, summer sky… A soft and cheerful background… Then yellow…. ~ must be the sun! How shiny it is… I almost felt the warmth as it touched my skin… Then a hand… ~ what a hand it was indeed… must be working for good… it must be a hand of hugs and good deeds. Than he drew the lines of a handle in that hand… ~ must be… a sword… yes… surely this hand has won a fight for purity today… but then… it was a knife in this hand!!! I looked at the two kids. The boy said: It’ll be great. The girl said… yeah.

I nodded and stared right on through… but then Tristan dripped his brush in red…. And one drop of red on the paper… ~ Blood??? Knife… hand… blood? What? No! How is this picture going to be beautiful…

Then more red…. And more… and more… I screamed

Tristan didn’t reply. I turned my head… the kids looked away… No I don’t wanna be in a picture like that!!! Surely it is about a murder!!!! Then I saw a lot of brown… ~ ground… earth… It must be someone lying on the ground… dead… it's her blood there… oh no!

Tristan stayed silent. I shook him. I yelled. ‘Hey you said this picture is going to be great!!!!! You lied…. LET ME OUT OF HERE!!! I DON’T WANT TO BE IN SUCH A PICTURE!!!!’

The little boy spoke.

‘Hey Amy, Dad will surely paint something awesome’

‘Awesome? Awesome? Yeah With me being the murderer or the victim…. Hey why don’t you answer me???!!!! Tristan you think you can use me to anything??? Just because you have the power to do it?

Tristan painted on, but I averted my eyes till he lowered the brush…

Inside of me I was hurting with disappointment and bitter childish wisdom… This is why he never looked at me… I was indeed ugly… but for this picture he needs some ugly kid… then he’ll throw me away… I am indeed worthless… good for nothing else but a blooded picture…

I lowered my hands and my tears fell on my dress. Tristan gazed at me silently. There was a wall between us… Invisible as air… but great enough to keep me from trusting him... He was crying…

~ Fine… he’s crying cuz he knew he used me for bad… crying… seeing that I cry… YEAH SURE! HAS HE RECIGNIZED THAT UGLY AS I AM I STILL HAVE FEELINGS?

I’ll go out - I decided at last. I wont stand and watch this happen… These kids watch it… without any thought on their face… How stupid they are… of course.. It is not about them… that is why they are not concerned.

So I took a step towards the door.

The little boy shook his head.

‘If you go out… dad cant finish the picture’

‘Do I care? Why even waste paint on such a picture?’

‘But you don’t even know what it is. It is not yet ready.’

‘You stupid girl, is not it obvious for you what the picture is about? A bloody murder… and what can I do about it… stand and watch indifferently… no I don’t want that thanks. I’d rather go’

‘Dad will be angry.’

‘Do I care? He should be rather sorry!’

I tried to break free and get to the door… I planed to tear up my white dress and put on my old ragged clothes… stinky as they were just to gain back control over myself. The girl would simply let me go but the boy grabbed me before I could get to the door… He held me back… Kept me strong… and he did not let me leave. Then as I understood I was trapped… I just stood there broken, small, defeated, humiliated… joyless… hopeless… helpless… I hid my face and cried and cried… trembling all over… Where was this truthful? Where? I didn’t want to look… I just wanted to hide… I wondered how long it would take before I could get out, run away and forget it all.

Then Tristan said: ‘It is ready’

I turned, my hands still on my face. I edged towards the door.

‘You wont even take a look?’ – He asked sadly.

I pulled my shoulders up then lowered them again. I turned… it is over after all… and then I fell on my knees by what I see.

What I hoped to be the sky was the sky indeed… and there I was smiling… holding a knife in my hand… and a huge chocolate cake was put in font of me the brown… and the red… what I thought was blood… It was a heart shaped red marzipan on the cake!!!… An astonishingly beautiful picture…

And I just cried on…

Cause now I understood it all…

This is why he asked me to trust him, and I should have. Have I truly trusted in him… I would have had no doubts he’ll paint a nice picture… and now I could truly enjoy… But I thought from the little I see that I know the whole… And this wall between us… I built it up! This is why he could not speak to me… and he cried… because he knew his great plan… and I didn’t… and I suffered… and this made him grieve… and now I see…

Then I looked up at him at last, and quietly I mumbled…

‘So if I went out? Would you be angry?’

‘No’ – He replied kindly. – ‘But I would have been very sad… Than I would have painted this picture about some other kid… but I wanted to use you. And no… I would not be angry, and I would still love you even if you would have crossed that door… but this way you are in the picture… and how beautiful it is…’

Tristan hugged me… Washed off my tears… and there in that very moment… the weight of the world was taken off my shoulders… I could breathe again… smiling on that picture for ever….