My Atlantian

by Alysia S Knight

  Her heart pounding, Andra ripped her gaze from the fearsome side that at once was gruesome and incredible. The other side was a total contrast. A beautiful fantasy fairyland she had no problem connecting to the paradise where the Gods of Olympus lived.

  Amidst the glade of soft grass sprinkled with flowers sat a fair-haired maiden whose golden-brown locks hung in a full cascade around her shoulders. Her slender athletic shape was draped with a glimmering, opalescent tunic that was tied at the waist and ended midway down her thigh, leaving her long legs exposed as they stretched out to the side. Golden laces crisscrossed their way up her calves from dainty slippers. A quiver of arrows was slung over her shoulder.

  Stretched out beside her was the most beautiful German Shepherd Andra had ever seen, its coat a mixture of gold, brown and blacks, with bright, amber eyes that shown with intelligence as it looked up at the man standing over the maiden. Apollo, she knew the dog’s name, just like she knew the man.

  Andra froze.

  Alex. The breath caught as she looked at the familiar handsome man with wavy, sandy-brown hair. He, like the woman, was dressed as if he had just stepped out of Greek mythology. He wore a belted tunic, which hung over legging that had cords wrapped over them to his knees. A large sword glimmered in one hand and a shield was strapped to his back.

  Andra’s focus went back to the man’s face − the face of Alexander Haydon. The likeness was perfect. She should know. She had gawked at him every time she saw him since he’d moved into the neighborhood four months ago.

  It was embarrassing. She was a sensible twenty-four year old woman. Okay, so she didn’t date a lot, but in school she’d been a late bloomer. Then she’d been busy in art school, and all the guys usually wanted was a good time and what they could get out of it. She wasn’t going for that. Then all her attention turned to trying to get her gallery up and running. She just didn’t have time. So she was stuck dreaming of the hunky, K-9 police officer who lived two buildings down and now showed up in a painting in her gallery.

  Andra looked into the glacial blue eyes and felt herself get lost just like she did every time she met them in real life. She wondered how whoever did the painting got him to agree to pose. It didn’t seem like something Alex would do. The thought had her looking again for a signature, but the mystery remained.

  There was no signature anywhere, front or back. The only thing she did find in way of identification was a gold name plate in the bottom center of the frame. It read, The Olympus Game. Andra looked up at the painting thinking for some reason it was a fitting title, especially with Mount Olympus towering over the teams. She knew instinctively that’s what they were − teams, the humans and the demons.

  She returned to studying the painting on the human side. Seeing the owl in the tree, this time she wasn’t surprised. Wasn’t one of the Greek Gods’ symbols the owl? It stood for wisdom.

  “Athena. Of course. The Goddess of war, wisdom, arts and crafts,” she said aloud. She should’ve got it right off. The more she looked, the more symbolism she saw. Andra pushed the intrigue of it away and finished her survey.

  As she had noted toward the top of the painting a mighty mountain stretched to the clouds, Olympus. Her heart pounded as there in the clouds around the top of the mountain, a pair of gray-blue eyes shown out from the billowing folds. They had a fathomless, all knowing quality she found very disconcerting.

  Andra looked away afraid they might actually blink.

  “Okay, now you’re getting real fanciful.” Andra stepped away from the painting and found her gaze went right back to it. The little bell above the door tinkled as it was supposed to, finally breaking her focus. Andra looked at the matronly woman who stepped in.

  “Oh, hello, Mrs. Williams.” Andra glanced at the clock and discovered an hour had disappeared. “I have your painting all packed up. I’ll get it for you.”

  “That’s fine, dear. I’ll just look around while you do.”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t added anything new since you were here the other day,” Andra said as she stepped into the back room. The older woman was one of her best customers. She truly loved art and had a very good eye. She loved to give art as gifts, had the money to do it and was not afraid to buy newer or lesser known artists. That was how they first met, when the lady bought one of her paintings and wanted to meet the artist.

  Andra picked up the package that would be for Mrs. Williams’s sister’s birthday and went back out. She found the woman in front of The Olympus Game.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have anything new. Oh, my dear. This is incredible. How much are you asking for it? Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’ll pay whatever. I really shouldn’t say that, but it’s just so incredible.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t sell it. I just received it, and I haven’t even figured out who sent it to me.”

  “Haven’t figured out −” The woman looked at the bottom. “They didn’t sign it. Who would do such a master work of art and not sign it? It doesn’t matter. I still want to be given first option.”

  “Certainly, once I find out, and if I get a contract for it, you will be the first one I’ll let know.” Andra felt a twinge at the thought of selling the painting.

  “Excellent, dear. You are such a peach. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out since you have to know them because they painted you into it.”

  “What?” It took a second to process the statement.

  “The maiden. Surely you noticed.”

  Andra’s attention jerked to the canvas. Did that really look like her? Andra didn’t get time to contemplate it.

  “I really must go. I have several other errands to run, or I’d just settle down and soak up the ambiance here for a while.”

  “You’re welcome any time.” Looking away from the painting, she smiled at the woman.

  “How is your own painting going?” the snowy haired matron asked as they walked to the door.

  “I have a couple in the works that are getting close to being ready.”

  “Well, let me know when they are. I want to see them, too.” She leaned forward to brush a kiss on Andra’s cheek.

  Andra accepted the movement. “I will. You have a good day.”

  They exchanged a final wave as Mrs. Williams got in her car. She really loved the older woman.

  Andra looked back at the painting. “Well, I better find out where you came from.” All thoughts of cleaning were forgotten. The day disappeared in a string of calls, broken only by dealing with customers. She contacted every artist and person she knew or could find who handled shipping. The answer was always the same. No one knew anything.

  One thing became a constant; everyone who entered the gallery became enthralled with the painting. Still, she had a really amazing day selling three of her major pieces, which would cover all the expenses for the month and then some.

  Andra locked the door and turned the sign to closed twenty minutes later than normal. She took her customary walk around her gallery absorbing the great pleasure she felt every time she did. It was all so perfect from the dark, highly polished, hardwood floors to the soft cream walls filled with paintings, sectioned off with the same hardwood trim that ran up to the high ceiling, two stories above. Toward the back, in the center, a wide staircase curled around as it led up to the balcony and her apartment.

  Andra started across the room and stopped. The feeling of being watched flowed over her as it had done several times that afternoon. She knew no one was in the gallery. She always kept track of people who entered. For one, because it was good business, but also, for a woman alone running a business that was quite solitary, she had to be cautious. Andra edged closer to the window, looking out.

  The street was still busy. There were several groups sitting at the wrought iron tables in front of the café across the street. A woman and her daughter were looking at something in the window of the bookstore. The couple that owned the little custom jewelry shop was just closing up. No one seemed out of the ordinar
y for their stylish, little arts and craft neighborhood. They were a close, friendly group.

  Shaking off the feeling, she headed for the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of The Olympus Game, the eyes in the clouds followed her. She knew the painting term for the effect, but it seemed more real. She stopped and stared at the painting and could almost swear the edges around the eyes crinkled a little in amusement.

  “You’re losing it, Andra,” she said to herself then she shook it off, and headed upstairs to fix something to eat, so she could put in a couple hours painting before bed. Halfway up the stairs she paused again, looking back to the painting. The eyes were back to their normal incredible, mysterious selves.

  ***

  “Andra.” Her name whispered through the dream. She was in a glade. The smell of flowers surrounded her. The sky was a clear blue, the water in the stream matched, but it sparkled like it was laced with diamonds. She breathed deeply taking in the fragrance of the air along with the trickling sound of water.

  Something caught her attention, and she looked across the meadow. Alexander Haydon strode through the grass toward her, Apollo, as always, at his side. Her heart jumped at the sight of them, and the gleam in his eyes as he looked at her.

  “It’s time to play the game,” the words whispered to her.

  “What game?” she asked.

  He looked confused, and she realized he hadn’t said anything.

  “Time to play.” The words faded away into a crash.

  Chapter Two

  Andra bolted up in bed. The creak from downstairs sounded over the pounding in her chest. Someone was in the gallery.

  Instinctively, she reached for the switch on the lamp and stopped with her hand an inch away. Not a smart move, instead, she lowered her hand to the night stand until she touched her cell phone. Grateful for the light it gave off, she quickly dialed the emergency number. Thankfully, someone answered almost immediately.

  “This is Andra Perce, owner of the Perce Gallery.” She gave the address as she climbed out of bed. “Someone’s downstairs in my gallery.” She reached into her closet and took out the softball bat she’d had since she was in high school. When she’d put it there instead of downstairs in the storage room, she’d thought she was being silly and overly dramatic, but as her fingers closed around the long familiar grip, she sent up a silent thanks.

  “Yes, I live in the apartment above the gallery.”

  “Is there a door leading into your apartment from the studio?” The woman’s voice came back over the line.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it locked?”

  “No, it’s standing wide open.” Andra made her way down the small hall toward where it opened up to the living room. The faint light that lit the room from the windows below was the reason she liked to leave the door open.

  “The police are almost there.”

  Andra could now hear the sirens. A crash and the sound of breaking glass below was like a starting gun to send Andra running through the living room to the balcony. She couldn’t see anyone below then flashing red and blue lights flickered across the wall. Still, she couldn’t see anyone there.

  Andra ran down the stairs. She flipped a switch, flooding the gallery with light as she rushed to the door, turning the locks. She opened the door, which was useless considering the whole glass panel was broken out.

  “Freeze!” The order was barked out at her.

  “I’m Andra Perce. I own the gallery.”

  “Drop the bat, ma’am.”

  “What? Oh, sorry.” She let go of the bat and raised her hands, and the alarm started blaring.

  One man walked toward her while his partner covered him. “Do you have some ID?” He spoke loud to be heard over the noise.

  “Yes, but it’s upstairs,” she yelled. “Do you mind if I turn off the alarm first?”

  The officer waited for his partner to join him before he nodded.

  Careful not to make any sudden movements, Andra put in the code and blessed silence fell across the room as another police car pulled up front.

  “Ma’am, did you see who broke in?” the other officer asked.

  She shook her head. “I stayed up in my apartment until I heard the glass break, then I ran down and turned on the lights.” She started to step toward them.

  “Careful so you don’t cut your feet.”

  She looked down and realized she was standing there barefoot and wearing only a pair of very short, sleep shorts and a T-shirt the read, ‘Artists make dreams come true’.

  “Oh,” she gasped.

  “Hey guys, what’s going on? Andra, you okay?” At seeing her, Alexander Haydon stepped through the door to her, concern sounding in his voice.

  “You know her, Alex?”

  The heat already rising in her cheeks flared to life as the man she had the worst crush on in her life looked her up and down. She almost groaned when his lips twitched into a smile.

  “Sure, I live in the next building down.”

  Andra wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt for modesty. She jumped when a cold nose touched her bare leg. “Hi, Apollo.” She reached down to rub the dog, taking comfort in him.

  “She had a break-in. Mike and Tanner are out checking the area.”

  “What?” Alex looked at the officer and then back to her. “You okay?” he asked again. He reached out and laid a hand on her arm.

  Andra nodded afraid she couldn’t get anything out. Now that it was all over, she was beginning to feel shaky. She wondered what Alex would do if she just crumpled into his arms.

  “Ms. Perce, can you look around and see if anything is missing?” The officer’s question pulled her back from the thought.

  “Yes, of course.” She didn’t keep much cash there because in her business almost everyone paid with credit cards. It only took a second to tell the small safe she kept, mainly for important papers, was undisturbed. One pass through the gallery told her all the paintings were in place. Still, she double checked the smaller paintings and statues she had. All were accounted for. She paused, looking at The Olympus Game. She felt a twinge of concern, but it was fine, though something seemed a touch off. She shrugged and returned to the officer.

  “Everything looks okay. I think he must’ve gotten scared and took off before he could take anything.”

  “I don’t know,” Alex said. “He had to have had plenty of time.”

  “Why do you say that?” Andra looked at him then the officer.

  The two men exchanged looks.

  “Because, whoever it was had been in here since you closed.” Alex was the one who spoke up.

  “That’s impossible.”

  His lips made a hard, firm line that spoke as loud as his words did. “Look at the door, the glass. Whoever it was broke out. They were already in.”

  Andra stared at the glass fanned out over the sidewalk and started to tremble. Her breath hitched. “I always keep a close eye on people as they come and go. And I keep my back door locked at all times unless I have a delivery or am taking out the trash and the dumpster is just right out the door.”

  “Did you take the trash out tonight?” the officer asked.

  “Yes, but I’d know if someone was in the gallery.” This time, when she wrapped her arms around herself, it wasn’t for modesty but for comfort.

  “It’s all right.” Alex placed a hand on her arm again squeezing down slightly. “You’re safe. He’s gone.”

  Andra nodded, pulling herself together. “Yes. Thank you so much.”

  “Anytime.” The officer closed his notebook. “I’m sorry we found no sign of him, but you should be safe. I really doubt he’ll come back tonight. But, we’ll keep a car in the neighborhood.” He nodded to Alex and left.

  Andra stared after the police cars as they pulled away.

  “I’ll help you block up the door,” Alex volunteered. “If you’ll get me a broom, I’ll even sweep up the glass while you get some shoes on.”

 
Andra looked down then put her hands over her face. “Oh my, I can’t believe I’m standing here like this. It’s so embarrassing.”

  “Actually, I’d say you look pretty good.”

  She groaned.

  “Hey, relax.” He took hold of her hands and brought them down. “You’re decent. Believe me, you look a whole lot better than any woman I’ve seen who’s been pulled out of bed in the middle of the night.” He winced. “That didn’t come out quite right. Let’s try that again. You look better than anyone disturbed by a burglar in the middle of the night. Help me out here, pal.” He looked down at his dog.

  Apollo stepped forward and sat on her foot. The dog looked up and laid his head along her leg.

  “Oh, well. That was smooth. Who taught you that trick?” Alex shook his head.

  Apollo looked up, thumping his tail on the ground. Andra smiled, sliding her hand over his head, sinking her fingers into his fur. “The broom and dustpan are just inside the backroom there. Thank you. I, ah, I’ll just go up and−” Andra turned and fled up the stairs.

  Alex watched her go and had to suppress a groan. She was so beautiful, and she didn’t even seem to know it. For four months he’d been dancing around how to ask her out and still hadn’t gotten to it. Part of the problem was because she always seemed to be running away, just like now.

  At first, he thought he’d done something to offend her or that she just didn’t like him. But, over the last couple months, he’d caught her watching him, and he’d swear there’d been interest in her eyes, and when she saw him catch her, she’d do that incredible blush she did.

  This was it. He was going to ask her out. He had an evening off in three days and would see if she could go out with him then.

  He looked down at the broken glass and headed to the backroom for the broom. The thought of someone in Andra’s gallery while she was upstairs sleeping left him cold. Being a police officer, he knew what could happen all too well. They were lucky tonight.

  In the backroom, he saw some packing crates he could use to secure the door for the night. He had the glass all swept up when she came down wearing a pair of jeans and a large sweatshirt that totally hid her trim shape. He missed looking at it.