Honest Masks

by Barbra Novac

  Everyone in the room had large paper pads and charcoal pencils. The bulk of the people sat toward the stage. Soon, however, there was an announcement that the night was starting and for everyone to please take their places. Chloe’s heart raced. She felt as though she were in some sort of privileged domain and couldn’t image what she was about to see. The woman at the door had given her a good idea.

  Some slow music started, and Chloe recognised it as “The Stripper” by David Rose. Soon a woman emerged from a curtained-off area at the back of the small stage. She wore a jewelled corset in ballet pink, a pink G-string, and tall pink sandals. She had enormous soft pink feathers coming out of her hair. Looking around the room, Chloe noticed everyone start to draw. She half turned toward James, to whom she had her back, and saw that he had started sketching as well.

  Chloe was in her element. How did he know to bring her here? Hurriedly she started to sketch the costume. The way it moved against the woman’s skin as she danced her burlesque dance. The seams up the back of her stockings, the glittering jewels of her costumes, and the sway of the feathered headdress all moved to make her body more enticing, more elegant. Why? Chloe sketched with these questions in mind, relishing the dim, haunting, male-dominated atmosphere.

  She pranced about the stage for a while then moved offstage. Soon another woman came out, this time to a collection of songs from the musical Grease. She was dressed in tight white shorts and matching jacket and had two chequered flags with her. Soon she unzipped her jacket to reveal an electric blue bra. Through her act, the jacket eventually came off, but she kept the bra top on. Chloe had already figured out this was burlesque, and no woman would appear naked.

  A third woman came out wearing a tiny, flesh-coloured bikini and high, sequined stilettos. She carried a large feather fan with her. She teased with more deliberation and used far more seduction on the crowd. She flashed the fan in front of her as she removed the bra top and then ripped the thong bikini bottom from her body. The fan fluttered teasingly in front of her body, flashes available for the audience but never revealing completely what lay behind those feathers. For the audience, this was the highlight of the show. People were hard at work on their sketches but stopped to ogle at this woman.

  Finally, a last woman came out in a red and black corset, with a small red and black top hat, and did a very seductive dance but remained clothed. When she’d finished, all the women came back out (the feathers woman with her tiny bikini firmly in place again), and the house lights went up. People were encouraged to stand up and show their sketches.

  Chloe looked down at hers, a mingled mess of limbs, hooks, feathers, and jewels. Nothing fit together as a proper image, but Chloe didn’t care. She wanted to take this drawing home and immerse herself in it for a few hours. Hers was a study, not for show.

  She looked over at James who had done a decent job of the woman with the red top hat, her seductive smile glowing at the observer. A woman in the far corner earned applause; she showed a beautiful sketch of the burlesque dancer who removed all her clothes. She was handed a bottle of champagne.

  Soon the room started to clear out.

  “Well, that was short, but I hope you enjoyed it,” James said, close enough to Chloe to be heard. Chloe thrilled at the feel of his warm breath on her ear. She felt enormously stimulated by what she’d just seen, and not just in the artistic sense. She realised James and she had acted like longtime lovers all night, yet had never even shared a proper lovers’ kiss. Chloe found herself thinking about kissing those full, red lips of his, more than she could think about the art conversation he continued with enthusiasm.

  James looked at her with that amused grin slowly spreading over his face. She blushed as if he could read her mind perfectly. For the briefest second, Chloe mused at what a remarkable connection existed between them. It was as though he knew her every thought, and Chloe felt confident she had a similar ability to read him. This man, this moment, could be the opportunity of a lifetime.

  If Chloe wanted to move in that direction.

  Before her loins completely took over her common sense, she reminded herself that she had to speak frankly with him. He looked as hungry for her body as she was for his, but Chloe sensed that one time in the sack wouldn’t satiate either of them, and James’s conversation when they first arrived indicated he felt the same way.

  Chloe had to come clean about her deepest fear. And she had to do it right now.

  “James, I have to complete that conversation we had earlier. I have to tell you more about my great-grandmother.”

  Chloe caught the faint look of surprise in James’s eyes, before understanding and warmth moved it aside. She knew intuitively that despite all the art talk, he wanted to get back to her place. But he was sensitive enough to ignore those feelings and trust that she had something that needed to be said before they moved into another realm.

  “Of course. We’d only gotten as far as your beautiful costumes before. Relax and tell me about the women in your family, and let’s see if I can’t ease your mind and rush you home.”

  His beautiful smile relieved any doubts she may have, as she sipped her wine and relaxed into the moment. He topped her glass up and then his own, as if to imply there was no rush; she was to take her time. They had all night if that was required.

  “James, I know this sounds strange, but I have deep fears for myself that you have become a part of, and I want to tell you about them prior to us having any physical connection. The words you said at the start of this wonderful date have caused me to see that if this is to have any chance at a future, I need to reveal my fears now. You have been very frank with me; now I need to be that with you.”

  He said nothing but nodded enthusiastically, willing her to go on with his smile and warm eyes. Chloe knew that he was preparing himself to talk her out of these fears, to listen patiently, and then tell her that they meant nothing. She had to tell him what scared her so much, so that when those fears arose in her, at least she had his support in dealing with them.

  “I’ll start with my great-grandmother. She was an artist. An Australian. She lived in this very region, I believe, but the information I have on her is sketchy and unreliable. But she was a part of an artistic community in Australia. She was very brilliant, even for this community, which was one of enormously talented artists. Great-grandmother was something of a star, a wild woman, and a brilliant, talented painter. Anyway, she played around a lot…” Chloe continued to tell him all of the details she knew of her great-grandmother.

  James’s face had lost all of its mockery now as he said, “Go on.”

  Touched by the intensity with which he was listening, Chloe continued. “Actually, the women in my history have a talent for finding famous men and mating with them. My great-grandmother had an illicit affair with a very famous person, and then my grandmother did the same. However, it brought a lot of pain in both their lives.” Spurred on by James’s interest, she confessed her biggest family secret. “Truth is, my great-grandmother had a brief one-nighter with D.H. Lawrence, and my grandmother had a week-long affair with Henry Miller. Imagine that! I am D.H. Lawrence’s illegitimate great-granddaughter and Henry Millers illegitimate granddaughter! Lord knows who my mother slept with at Studio 54. Even my father could be famous!” Chloe paused, watching his reaction carefully. James’s face showed deep concentration with something else emerging that Chloe couldn’t recognise. He seemed almost out of breath. It was a very exciting story… And it did mean she had these great artists blood in her veins, and this must have been gripping to an outsider. It had never struck Chloe before that this story could be something to be proud of, so afraid was she of what the legacy had done to her mother. But telling James reminded her of the glamour of the story.

  “I know it sounds sort of exciting, but my great-grandmother didn’t want the baby, and it was all very traumatic and difficult for her.”

  James’s interest grew intense. He’d almost gone a little pale, so strong
was his response.

  “Yes, yes… Go on. What happened to your great-grandmother?”

  “Well, the community refused to let her have the abortion, and so she ran away, claiming that she was going to abort. But my great-grandmother, believing the same as that community, couldn’t bring herself to do it. However she was too consumed with pride and anger to return home. She ran away to the States and had the baby. A little girl. My grandmother.”

  Chloe could not help noticing that James was physically affected now. Gone were the spirited grin and the boyish charm. In fact, Chloe had never seen anyone’s countenance change so rapidly from one minute to the next. She started to worry about James’s reaction. It seemed a little too strong for polite interest.

  “Can I go on? You seem upset? Is this story worrying you?”

  James, who was looking into his wineglass, glanced up at Chloe and said, “What happened to your grandmother?”

  “Um, well, the women lived lives of loneliness in the States. We don’t know what happened to Grandma, and my mother never did find her. Mother was a great painter but couldn’t find a market for her work. She waitressed at Studio 54 when she fell pregnant with me. She’d slept around and got heavily into drugs. Before she died, I have mostly memories of her crying and telling me she was always alone, always alone. She repeated it endlessly.” Chloe paused here, filled with emotion.

  At this moment, James caught his breath, and Chloe looked up at him sharply. His gaze pleaded with her. The intensity flowing out of him caught Chloe off guard. She had not, in a million years, expected this kind of a reaction from him to her sad little story.

  “What happened to your mother?” James said, his eyes filling rapidly with tears.

  “She killed herself. Hung herself in our small back room when I was a very little girl. The last thing she said to me was to forget art and embrace a normal life.”

  Big, fat, rainy tears flowed down James’s cheeks. He looked at Chloe as if she were a ghost. As if he couldn’t believe she was real. He leaned over the table and kissed her mouth. Kissed it hard, like a lover who had been to war and had returned a broken, defeated man. The tears ran freely down his cheeks and melted into their kiss, making it one of salt and water and love.

  Chloe pulled away, confused and tired from the emotional pain of her story. James’s intense response to her story touched her, but scared her also. If he wanted to impress her with his interest, he’d taken it too far. But Chloe could tell this reaction sat too deep to be flattery. James’s face was ashen, and his hands shook. He gulped down the rest of his wine. He placed his head into his hands, and if she didn’t know better, Chloe almost perceived a sob. She saw two tears drop to the table, and then James started to pull himself together.

  He pulled out a handkerchief, blew his nose noisily, and wiped his eyes. He’d lost most of his smooth actions from earlier.

  Suddenly Chloe realised why. Her story convinced him. He knew they would not see each other again.

  Instantly Chloe’s stomach lurched; she was right. This beautiful, sensitive man, who understood her so immediately, understood her so well now, couldn’t continue with her. He knew that he would only encourage this destructive streak in her, and he would be nothing but trouble. Tears welled in Chloe’s eyes as she slowly realised what his distress really meant.

  James composed himself and glanced around the room. They’d attracted no attention, and he seemed physically relieved at that.

  Suddenly he tried to face Chloe. “I have to go. I am so, so sorry. I am sorry that I took you out to something like this, thinking that we could just simply seduce each other. You were so right to tell me that story. But I am too upset for your mother and for your great-grandmother, and yes, even for you, to stay another minute.”

  Chloe looked down at her shaking hands, mentally willing him to get out of her sight so that she could cry, cry and curse her lineage. Even if her thoughts were confused, this story clearly introduced too much intensity for the man. She’d killed his interest in her, and she watched the corpse of possibility lying dying on the ground. It hurt terribly.

  “Of course. I am upset too. Just get me to a taxi, please. I want to get home.”

  James looked at her with some warmth and confusion in his eyes. He leaned over and held her hand. “Dear Chloe, please don’t be upset. It’s just that I have to do something. I will call you or come and visit or something, but just for now, I really have to go.”

  Chloe felt humiliated. He didn’t have to give her the “I will call” line. She felt deeply upset and wanted to get away from him as fast as she could. She stood and started to walk toward the end of the room with James rushing to pay behind her. He got caught up in dealing with the bill, so she managed to walk down the stairs alone. The stairs had seemed like so much a stairway to heaven only a few hours before but now felt like her descent into hell.

  James didn’t catch up with her until she opened the door to step out into the night air. A cab was waiting by the footpath, ready to take drunken rioters home safely. Chloe moved toward it with James on her heels. He opened the door of the taxi for her. James slammed it shut without getting in himself, and Chloe just felt glad to see that he wasn’t gentleman enough to get her home safely. She wanted to be alone to cry.

  James tossed the cab driver a hundred-dollar bill and told him to take her back to her apartment. He leaned through the window to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away, too hurt to act socially polite.

  Broken and confused, James said, “Please, Chloe. I just need to do something. I will call you, I promise. I will explain why your story affected me so.”

  Chloe looked up at James with a smile on her lips that she never felt in her eyes. “It’s okay, James. You really don’t have to. I knew it was important information. You need to be able to make proper choices with all of the knowledge at your disposal. Now please leave me alone; I have to go.”

  It was meant to be a pretty speech, a clean end to a tragic date. But James had already moved away from the window and was hailing another cab behind her.

  Her words were lost in the sultry night air.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chloe had hollowness in her heart from which she felt she’d never be able to recover. Stepping out of the taxi, a ride that threatened to last forever the way she was feeling, Chloe almost sprinted up the steps to her home, desperate to get through the door and safely away from that nightmarish date.

  Running into the apartment, she slammed the door behind her. The tears started to roll in big, fat splashes as she flopped herself down on her bed and let the torrent wash over her. Chloe’s body racked and shook as she cried and cried into the silk covers. It was too bad. He’d just run off like that, his whole demeanour changing the minute she told him about her mother and all the mad women in her life.

  Chloe knew that she had to come clean about her past. She knew that it might make him have second thoughts about her. But she had no idea it would make him turn white as a ghost, cry in public, and then run for his life. The date looked so much like a possibility of something, as if they had a chance this all might go somewhere. And now suddenly nothing. Not even a nice date every now and then. Not even a proper good-bye. Not even an attempt at an explanation.

  Chloe cried until she had no tears left. This situation had looked hopeful to say the least, and hope had been dashed to pieces in front of her and left her stinging from the cold, hard slap of reality in her face.

  Reality. That was what had happened to her. This man reacted honestly, probably more honestly that a lesser man would. He’d made a concerted effort to be clear about where he stood and asked her to do the same so that they might consider a future together. And Chloe had been honest, and he’d been honest right back at her. He didn’t want to have relationships with so much madness running through the blood. Strange but true.

  The scary thing was Chloe had never thought that the artistic people might reject her. She’d always assumed she had a choice be
tween two lifestyles. To follow one path or another. Chloe couldn’t bear to think back over the night. It hurt too much. This opportunity took her very close to the dream she didn’t even hope to entertain. Maybe one day, when she’d properly let go of all hope and she knew her place properly, maybe then she would be able to go back over this joyous, almost-perfect date. But it would be a long time before that was likely to happen.

  After sobbing for what seemed like several hours, Chloe decided to go online. She didn’t want the humiliation of confessing the disastrous night to Max, but she also didn’t want to be alone. She thought that she needed another perspective on the whole thing. Max had encouraged her to attend tonight. Chloe didn’t want to blame Max for what happened, but she did want him to know that things didn’t always work out just because they seemed like good ideas.

  As soon as she was online, Max leapt up with a message request. Chloe accepted it, and right away, Max typed in, What are you doing home? Is your date with you?

  No, Chloe responded. It ended early, and I can tell you now, he won’t be coming back.

  There was a pause. Chloe could feel Max thinking.

  Then he came back. Are you okay?

  I’m really upset. I feel hurt. I don’t think this date was a good idea. And to tell you the truth, I don’t want to give up my relationship -- as strange as is it -- with you. I think reality hit me in the face tonight, and I would rather have this online world than that scary, real one.

  Max seemed intensely interested in what she had to say. She could feel his focus through the computer. The connection that went on between them helped her calm down usually and she loved it so much. But now, it felt a little odd. Chloe thought again how strange it was that she was attracting such intense responses in men. She couldn’t think of answers to these kinds of questions now. Life felt too hard.

  Do you want to tell me what happened tonight?

  Well, we were getting on really well. It was a sort of dream date. We talked and talked about art and technique. I kept thinking about how sexy he was and how nice…