Lost in the Painting
Page 2
At that there was a loud crash and the sound of someone's dining tray sliding to my side. Even without looking I knew who it was. My face flushed red with anger as I turned to the far end of the hall. Clumsy was there with spaghetti on his head.
"Oh look, there he is!" Richard smirked
"Indeed" Susan laughed
I walked over and grabbed him. I took him to an empty corner before shouting at him.
"What do you think you're doing? I was just praising you and you had to ruin it !"
"I'm sorry"
"Sorry? ARGH! They all think you're an idiot you know, there isn't anything wrong with showing off a little you know?"
"I'm sorry"
"Ah," I groaned "You don't have to be so stiff necked"
"But you're my mentor"
"Look, we're friends now ok"
"Ok Dr. Estrom"
"Anna!"
"Anna"
"From now on, call me Anna, and I'll stop calling you Clumsy"
"Anna?," he thought for a second before reaching out his hand. I took it and shook it. When I did he had shed a tear.
"What's wrong Clum-erm, Hilbert?"
"Nothing, it's?, thank you for caring"
"Ok, hmm"
"What's the matter?"
"Hilbert is kind of crap"
"Sorry"
"Berty?"
"Berty?" he frowned
"Hil, Hilly?"
"Anna?"
"Yes?"
"It's ok. You can call me Clumsy"
I nodded without even thinking about it. In my heart, he was always Clumsy. We laughed and walked back to the canteen.
From then on, we had lunch together. He was his quiet self at the start but with a few kicks to his shin, I got him speaking. Now Richard won't stop bugging him. He would even come into my office at times asking Clumsy's advice on the EVP. Susan had her reservations for asking for help, so she asked me to ask him.
By this time, the other two interns were clinging to Clumsy as much as anyone. The two picked up things quick, and Susan even put Bishop's first successful duplicate out on display. Emily had messed up on the EVP on an original, but Clumsy was able to restore it. I was sure Emily had fallen for him, and now that he had saved her skin, I was sure she would ask him out.
I didn't ask myself why I was interested at the time, but had I have done, maybe the ending would have been different.
I saw the two together after closing time but Emily left alone. Clumsy walked back inside as I made my way to my lab. He came in a minute later and sat at the EVP.
"Was that Emily?" I asked
"Yes"
"What did she want?"
"Well," he smiled awkwardly, "She asked me out"
"Oh? What did you say?"
"No"
"Oh? But Emily's such a pretty girl? And smart as well? Ah! But she is a lot younger than you?"
"No, I told her the truth"
"Oh?"
"I'm in love with someone else?"
"Someone else?" I stopped breathing
"But I can't remember who? I have this feeling that someone is waiting for me, but I just can't remember"
"I see" I laughed
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing! Let's go get dinner"
"I'm fine thanks"
"Come on! You barely eat anything at all, how do you even stay alive?"
"Indeed," he sighed, "How do I?"
We went out to get take away and ate in the lab. We talked for hours on end as I wanted nothing more than to know him more. The more time I spent with him, the more I loved that painting. Strange no? It doesn't make any sense, but that's how I felt. I asked why he spent so much time with the painting and he replied like this.
"I have to see the original"
"The one Mr. Gilford painted over?"
"Yes"
"But look," I showed him a sketchbook the old man gave me, "It's just a draft, a rough sketch"
"It isn't. I don't understand myself, but I know I've seen it. I have to see it again"
"You've seen it? That was painted close to one hundred and fifty years ago when Mr. Gilford was a boy"
"I know it sounds crazy, but it's there. What I've lost, I know it's in that painting"
I felt like I understood him. It was as if my words found themselves in his mouth. What had I lost in the painting?
*****
Without surprise, Clumsy was made into a staff member. He received his own lab and he no longer needed mine. He was always swamped by staff at lunch, and worked in the dust room at night. No matter when I looked for him, he was working. It was like he never stopped.
He was completely taken away from me. At night I would walk past the dust room and peer through the window. Sometimes he would see me and the two of us would stop and stare for what seemed an eternity. He would always smile and bowed to me, just like he had always done when he was an intern. Even now, he was still stiff necked.
It was lonely, and I found excuses to go into the dust room all the time. But even then, he was busy with a national treasure, or sitting in on a meeting. I never got a word from him.
Now that I think about it, we didn't even talk much, well, he didn't anyway. I must have sounded like a complete nutcase to him. Chatting away like a crazy airhead! I found myself crying by the stairs when he found me.
"Have you got some time?" he smiled
We both sat on the cold floor in front of the painting we both loved. It was lit only by the moonlight, but somehow, the room seemed lit by the setting sun in the painting.
"We haven't spent much time together" he said
"Yes" I laughed
"I have tonight free, so please, talk to me"
"What?"
"Just talk with me. Like you've always done"
I started to sob a little before he patted my back.
"I can make time for us to talk, so please, talk to me"
"Make? Have you been working all this time to free this period?"
He nodded
"Why?"
"I wanted to listen to you"
"Why?"
"Because we're friends? Aren't we Anna?"
I laughed aloud and couldn't stop. Clumsy was a bit annoyed but I couldn't help it. That night should have lasted forever, but soon the sun rose and it was time to work again.
He walked me to my lab as I grabbed him before he left.
"Hey Clumsy?"
"Yes?"
"What do you think about me?"
He looked at me and turned away
If I had chased after him, it may have changed things, but I didn't. I was too happy to think of anything else.
I walked into my lab and saw that there was a message left overnight.
It was from Mr. Gilford, and he asked for his painting back. I wasn't sure why but he sounded very serious and angry.
*****
It was a week later, and after having fought a long ordeal, my painting was taken away. One William Stein claimed rightful ownership of the painting, and he won. Of course he won, he was the painter himself.
Clumsy was clueless about what his old friend had done as well. Apparently, he hadn't been back for a while, working through nights just to make time to see me.
It was lunchtime when he fought his way through the crowds and to tell me just a few words.
"I'll get your painting back, I promise!"
Since then, neither the staff or anyone could see him. He had locked himself in the basement and didn't leave for food or sleep. What he was doing, no one knew.
I couldn't take it anymore and made my way to Mr. Gilford's. It was a struggle to get through security but I somehow made it. The doorman at the top wasn't present as I made my way to the penthouse.
I knocked on the door before I heard the old man shouting back.
"I told you to leave!"
"It's me Mr. Gilford! Anna!"
"My god! Leave! Leave at once!"
"Mr. Gilford?"
It
was then, I smelt smoke. At first, I was ready to run, but I found my hand gripping the door. I banged on it before finding it wasn't locked. I stepped into the corridor to find the other end on fire.
I shouted his name over and over while running into every room. I found him at last out of bed by his painting.
"You can't be here! Run, while you still can!"
"Not without you!... And the painting!"
"Don't be stupid! Run!"
"NEVER!"
I picked up the old man and slipped the painting between my arm and side. I made my way closely to the exit when the ceiling collapsed on us. I felt the heat and thought of the desert. The image of Clumsy calling out to me hung in front of me as I fell under.
*****
I awoke in hospital. I turned to my side to see Clumsy asleep. I tried to move but I couldn't. I didn't have the strength. And just when I thought I couldn't move, a painful cough shook my whole body in a spasm.
Clumsy awoke and held me down. He wiped away my sweat and stared into my eyes.
"Ah!" a voice entered, "She's awake!"
I turned to see Richard, Susan and other staff come in. Even the interns came.
"How are you Anna?" Susan asked
I tried to speak but my voice was too harsh and painful
"It's ok, It's ok," Susan pressed my hand, "You should thank your hero here you're alive!"
"That's right" Richard and everyone agreed, "Not only did he rush into that burning building, he also did it Anna! He worked out the nanomaterial wave function! He was able to make a duplicate!"
At that, the two interns came in and showed me the painting I longed for. I shed a tear at the sight while Clumsy held my hand tightly.
"It's beautiful" I replied
After everyone had left, I was alone with Clumsy. He left for a bit, and returned with Mr. Gilford in a wheelchair.
"If it isn't my biggest fan?" he coughed
"Mr. Gilford!" I coughed as well
"It seems it is time for me to reveal everything to you, to both of you"
"It's about the painting isn't it?" Clumsy asked
"Yes it is, but first, we must tell Anna about you, and I will tell you, what you have forgotten, what both of you have forgotten, where should I start? How about when I first met Hilbert? It was a long, long time ago?"
When I was just a little boy, I left with my mother on a train. I never knew why, but I know that I never knew my father's face, and she never talked about him. We were on the train heading towards a new life when horror struck.
The train fell off the skyline and into the city below. We fell two stories going at seventy miles per hour. But somehow I survived. I opened my eyes to see myself in the cradle of a bloody man.
And without knowing it, our two bloods mixed.
From then that man raised me. He was a painter and travelled the land painting everything he saw. From him, I learnt how to paint as well and soon became as good as him.
It was when I was a bit older that he told me what happened that day. He was with his wife, he sat opposite me when the train fell. At that time, he had grabbed me and protected me with his flesh and bones.
I was in horror. I lived a protected life, so this shocked me, why did he save me? Why didn't he save his wife?
And he smiled. He told me mine was the one worth saving. He was sure that his wife would agree. But still I cried. If it wasn't for me, my father wouldn't have lost my mother.
Then it hit me. How I longed for a father, and how I saw it in him. How I had lost my mother. And how I drove the two apart, both in my real and adopted families.
The guilt was too much for me. I grew up knowing I had caused my father a pain beyond anything anyone could feel.
But then he told me his secret, hoping it would make me feel better. Hil Gert of a thousand years, and Anya of a thousand lives, isn't that right Father?
He told me both of your secrets, and of the ill fate of your meeting. Soon after hearing this story, I realised I had taken in my father's blood. Though I aged, it was slower than the passing decades. But that wasn't the real gift I received on that ill-fated day. I soon realised, I could paint over memories.
It was another eighty years before my father provided me the opportunity to save both of you. I awoke one morning to find he had painted a picture during the night. I asked about it, and he told me it was what he had lost.
Here it was, finally! I took a paintbrush and painted over it. The nanomaterial you speak of? It is the blood of an immortal. I mixed my own blood into the paint and painted over the original, the real painting.
I had hoped this would save you both, that my father would be spared from loss, and Anna, you would be saved from death. But I hadn't counted on the two of you. It is truly fate that you should meet, the both of you chasing after the same painting, the same memory.
"That is my story"
I stared from bed and looked at Clumsy. He took my hand and didn't let go.
"It is finally time," Mr. Gilford spoke, "It was foolish of me to challenge destiny, I will return what you have lost"
Clumsy held me in his arms as we both watched Mr. Gilford approach the painting. With his dying breath, the paint cracked and floated away like ash. Mr. Gilford fell to the floor as Hilbert rushed to his friend. I, however, was still staring at the painting.
A tear fell, followed by many more. My memories returned and I had remembered what I had lost.
What are your earliest memories? Childhood memories perhaps? Mine are of a desert millions of years ago, and the countless lives I have lived since then.
I didn't have long. I had spent too much time in the fire, and inhaled too much smoke. The burning of the original painting released the nanomaterial in the air, and by irony, it was this that was killing me.
I spent the next few days alone with Hilbert, the two of us never speaking but in each other's arms. Both of us, looking at the original, our portrait, staring into the eyes of our past selves.
I will always love you Hilbert, and one day, we will be together for longer. We will, or I will, chat to you, and you will listen. We will sit in silence together and be with each other forever, so please, next time we meet, don't be so stiff necked?
Goodbye my love, until we meet again?
###
About the author
"Hi, thanks you reading. If you didn't know, this is a sequel to 'The Man in the Desert.' I wanted to try my hand at writing something to do with immortality, and ended up with that. I wanted to write the sequel so it wasn't obvious as to what would happen, and the idea of memories and paintings came to me.
By the way, without intending to, this is also like the painting. I accidentally overwrote this file with another book! ARGH! I spent an hour trying to recover it, but in the end, I wrote it again. It's a lot different, Mr. Gilford was a villain in the original, but I liked how this turned out. So that is what I had lost in the painting of this story :-)
Remember! ALWAYS MAKE A BACKUP FILE!"
For those who are tragically obsessed, Nobo13 was born 1987 in Cambridgeshire. He spent four years doing a Physics degree but spend most of the time doodling and writing. Currently he is training to be a Science Teacher.
Nobo13's pen name is derived from using his surname, just look above! His more unusual hobbies are collecting headphones, staring aimlessly out the window (which consumes much of his time) and messing about with musical instruments- at the moment these are ocarinas and ukuleles.
Please check out my website and my other works, thanks for reading!
More from this author
I currently have a poetry book, two short story book- that only use 50 words in each story, and a children's sci-fi book that are available from the following links:
Tuesday: Story of the Cosmos-
Half a Century Alone:
The Monsoon Season:
The Other Half:
The Man in the Desert:
You can also search 'nobo13' in the iBook
s store!
Be sure to check my website every now and then for news and updates!
Connect with me online
My website: https://www.wix.com/nobo13/nobo13
My blog: https://nobo13.wordpress.com/
My Twitter page: https://twitter.com/#!/lazynobo13
My Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/nobo13