by Suzanne Weyn
“Lily! Come on!” Amy called again.
“Bye,” Lily said to Audreen. “I’ll come by when we’re done. Would that be all right?”
“I’ll be here, definitely! I think it’s important.”
“Okay. I will.”
“Lily!” Amy’s voice was sharp and insistent.
“Sorry! I’m coming.” Lily encountered Amy as she was walking back down the staircase toward her. “You won’t believe what just happened to me,” she told Amy.
“What happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. But listen to this.” She told Amy about Audreen and about being surrounded by the dead.
“Yeah, right,” Amy said, lifting an eyebrow. “New York City is full of people claiming to be psychics and fortune-tellers and all. They’re fakes.”
“Audreen isn’t a fake,” Lily insisted “She knew my name without my telling her.”
Amy coughed and glanced meaningfully down at Lily’s beaded bracelet. Feeling foolish, Lily lifted her wrist and looked at the letters L-I-L-Y strung on the elastic cord. “I forgot I was wearing this.”
“See what I mean? These people are clever.”
At the top of the stairs, they stopped outside an apartment with the name D. ARTEL printed on a label on the door. Amy rapped on the door and Lily sucked in her breath. Even though Daniella Artel had invited them, Lily suddenly felt anxious about dropping in on her without emailing or calling.
“One moment,” a melodic female voice called from inside the apartment. There was movement at the small peephole and then the door opened.
A tall, delicate blond woman in her forties appeared, wearing a white blouse and lightweight black pants. Her gleaming hair was swept up in a loose knot at the back of her head, and vivid blue-gray eyes shone warmly out at them. “Lillian!” she cried with delight. “I thought you’d never get here.”
DANIELLA INVITED Amy and Lily inside. “Welcome! Welcome!”
Lily had never seen an apartment like the one that belonged to Daniella Artel. The sun shone into the wide open space. The kitchen was on one side of the large room, and a canopy-covered bed peeked over a woven screen on the opposite wall. A wooden floor gleamed with high polish and a gold chandelier festooned in shimmering prismatic crystals hung from the fifteen-foot ceiling, throwing rainbows of light around the room.
The place was filled with artwork of every kind. Framed photos in black and white, as well as in color, depicting people of many ages and ethnicities covered the walls. Lily thought she recognized celebrities, models, even designers in some of them. Paintings and frames leaned against a wall under a window, out of the sunlight. A modern multicolored glass spiral stood beside a realistic-looking clay sculpture of a girl, and Amy took a step toward them as she looked intently at the two very different sculptures.
“Those two pieces have more in common than you might think,” Daniella commented from the kitchen area, where she was pouring three glasses of lemonade. “One shows the outside of the girl, while the other depicts the many colors of her inner being and her spirit spiraling to the sky. That’s why I always display them together.”
“I see what you mean,” Amy said.
Lily glanced back and forth between the two sculptures. “But why is her spirit spiraling upward? Shouldn’t it be inside her?”
Daniella seemed to study Lily for a long moment before speaking. “Energy moves through our bodies and all around us,” Daniella said. “To capture what can’t be seen is as much an artist’s challenge as is replicating what can be seen.”
“Cool,” Lily said, studying the Plexiglas spiral.
The word cool made Lily realize that Daniella’s apartment was, in fact, very cold, and she shivered.
“Would you like me to turn down the air-conditioning?” Daniella offered.
Lily was about to say yes, but Amy jumped in ahead of her. “Absolutely not! We’ve been baking in the heat all day. This is like heaven!”
“It’s expensive to keep the apartment this cold but my art materials don’t work as well in the scorching heat.”
Gazing around, Lily saw several fancy cameras on Daniella’s large work table. Beside them were silk screen print equipment, a collection of chalk pastels, and a palette crowded with oil paints. An artist’s easel was set up in a corner of the room. On it was a half-finished painting of a girl about Lily’s age.
Something in the girl’s expression caught Lily’s interest. It was familiar somehow. Lily crossed the room to the painting to see it better.
The portrait was definitely in the style of the ones done by the Dolores Agonie artists. This girl was too unfinished to tell what era she belonged to, but her green eyes were beautiful and clear — though Lily couldn’t help but feel they looked nervous.
“Do you like it?” Daniella asked.
Lily wasn’t sure if like was the right word. “Will this be another portrait in the collection from Dolores Agonie?” she asked.
“Are you one of her relatives?” Amy put in before Daniella could answer.
“Yes and yes,” Daniella answered as she set the glasses of lemonade on the table. “The last of the portraits was painted by my grandmother. It’s high time I do another one.”
“We read that the other ones got locked in an attic,” Amy said.
Daniella rolled her eyes. “My ex-husband was a bit of an eccentric,” she said. “I inherited the paintings when my mother passed on, and they’d always bothered him. So one day he packed them up and hid them away in a New England barn before continuing his trip up to Canada.”
“You must have been furious with him when he came home,” Amy commented.
“He never did come home,” Daniella said.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Amy said, looking embarrassed.
“Not at all.” Daniella waved away the idea of any remorse over her husband’s disappearance. “I was relieved, really. But it took me years to track down the paintings. Years!”
“Why did you send one of them to me?” Lily asked.
“You seemed to be so fascinated by it at the Haunted Museum,” Daniella said. “You and the girl in the portrait share the same kind of energy, and I thought you belonged together.”
“You were at the museum?” Lily asked.
“Yes. I like to stay in the shadows and observe the reactions people have to the portraits. Lily, when I saw you I was struck by your appreciation for the portraits and by your beauty.”
“Isn’t she pretty?” Amy agreed.
“No,” Daniella said, “not pretty — beautiful. Those high cheek bones! The arched brow! The long neck! A beauty like Lily comes along only once a century.”
“Wow!” Lily said, feeling self-conscious. “Thanks.” No one had ever been this complimentary about her appearance before.
“Have you ever thought of modeling?” Daniella asked Lily.
“I have thought about it,” Lily replied. “I’ve been watching that show about models in New York City — I’d love to be on it when I’m old enough, if I can.”
“Why wait? I can start your career,” Daniella said. “I’ve been hired to take photos for — well, it hasn’t been announced yet — for a national chain of stores. They’re opening a new line of teen fashions with my dear friend Manolo von Maheim, and they want one girl to represent the line. It’s called International Spirit.”
Lily’s heart began to race. She’d heard of models and actresses being discovered in schools and malls, but never thought it would actually happen to her.
“The shoot would be in August, and you would be paid of course,” Daniella went on. “But there is one condition.”
“What’s that?” Amy asked in that skeptical tone Lily was coming to dread.
“I have to be certain that Lily can model.”
“I’m sure she can,” Amy said. “How hard can it be?”
Lily thought of the episodes she’d seen of Model Mania. It didn’t look like modeling was as simple as Amy thought. The girls on the
show were always being directed not to be so stiff, and to have good posture, and not to pout, and to smile with their eyes.
“Do you think you can model, Lily?” Daniella asked.
“I think so — but I’ve never done it before,” Lily admitted.
“Exactly,” Daniella said. “So how about this. You’ll come here and sit for one of my portraits. You’ll get some training, I’ll give you some tips, and we’ll see how it goes. Naturally, I will pay you for sitting, too.”
Lily turned to Amy, smiling and excited. “I can do it, can’t I?”
“We’ll have to call your mom. But I don’t see why she’d object.”
Lily could come up with lots of reasons why her cautious mother would object, but she didn’t want to think about them. This was the beginning of the career in modeling that she’d dreamed of! Working with Daniella would be great. She was so sophisticated and creative, and Lily was already determined to impress her. She couldn’t wait to get started.
They talked some more about the times they would work and when Lily would get paid. Daniella told her to wear a plain outfit and to leave her hair loose. “And no makeup! I want to capture that unspoiled beauty.”
Finally Daniella rose from the couch saying she had to get ready for an appointment. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked.
“I’ll be here,” Lily assured her. She glanced at the half-finished painting on the easel. “Will a day be enough time for you to finish that other painting over there?”
“Oh, I’m not going to complete that one. I’ll start fresh with you.”
“But it’s so lovely,” Amy objected. “Why not complete it?”
“I lost my model.”
“What happened to her?” Lily asked.
Daniella looked away. “I don’t know. She never came back.”
LILY WAS so excited about modeling that she practically floated back home. They stopped to pick up Chinese food on the way, talking about Daniella and her studio as they walked.
Once they got back to Amy’s apartment, they set their bags down on the coffee table and Lily breathed in the ginger aroma that rose from the hot food. The spicy scent reminded her of something she’d meant to do….
“I forgot!” Lily exclaimed, and Amy glanced at her over her shoulder as she reached into the kitchen cabinets for plates and forks. “I told Audreen I would come by on our way down the stairs.”
“Why bother?” Amy asked as she helped Lily unload the white cardboard cartons. “You don’t honestly think you’re surrounded by the dead, do you?”
“I guess not,” Lily replied. Of course the idea was crazy. But still … “She was nice, though,” Lily added, “and I did say I would come.”
“All those psychic people are nice at the start. They want you to pay them to read your palm.”
“She said she reads tarot cards, and all kinds of things.”
Amy began to spoon food onto her plate. “Well, stay away from her. You don’t want to spend all the money you’re going to make modeling on that kind of thing.” Amy took a deep breath and smiled. “It was nice of your mom to give me some money to help pay for your food and stuff. Normally I’d be eating ramen noodles tonight.”
“I like ramen noodles,” Lily said.
“Yeah, but not every night,” Amy said as she began to eat her eggplant with garlic ginger sauce.
“It’s so exciting, isn’t it?” Lily said, scooping some beef and broccoli from a container. “Me! A model!”
“It is, but it’s too bad you have to sit for that portrait before you pose for the photo spread,” Amy said.
“I don’t mind. I think the portraits are cool.” Lily crossed the room to the portrait of Julia that she’d propped up on a side table so that the picture was supported by the wall. “And I don’t mind being in one of the portraits — the girl in this one is so pretty, isn’t she?” Lily said to Amy.
Amy looked up from the food and nodded. “She is pretty. All the girls in the portraits are.”
Lily touched her earlobes. “It’s a good thing I got my ears pierced. I hope I’ll get to wear a pair of earrings like all the girls in the portraits have on.”
“Remind me to call your mother,” Amy said. “We need her permission before you can do it.”
“Okay,” Lily agreed. Amy hadn’t said anything more about Lily having to stay so close to the apartment while Amy worked. Posing for Daniella would be much more interesting than being cooped up all day. Lily’s hopes about spending the summer in the city were turning out better than she’d imagined.
The afternoon was still sweltering and Amy’s electric fans were no match for it. “Would you mind if I took a nap?” Amy asked. “We can go out again once the sun sets.”
“No problem,” Lily agreed. The food and the heat had made her drowsy, too. She set up the couch bed and stretched out on top of it.
The person in the apartment next door was playing a record, sort of an old-time jazz tune, lively and happy. Lily yawned, turning onto her side. The fan at the window blew Amy’s gauzy white curtains while the music blended in with the traffic noises from the street.
Soon Lily drifted into a dream where she floated out into the street, flying over the buildings. She often dreamed that she could fly, but it was always over trees and yards. She’d never had an airborne city dream like this.
Then Lily’s eyes fluttered open and she was back on the pull-out bed. The delicate curtains still fluttered but now they seemed to be making noise.
Lily propped herself onto one elbow, leaning forward so she could hear better.
“Lily! Lily!” The voice was whisper-soft and lilting, pleasant. “Lily! Lily!”
Lily glanced at her aunt’s closed bedroom door. The voice wasn’t coming from that direction, and besides, it wasn’t Amy’s usual tone.
No, it seemed as though the billowing curtains were calling her.
But how could that be?
Was she mistaking the whir of the fan for words?
“Lily, I have to show you something.”
Lily sat up straight on the edge of the couch. Those last words were definitely not made by the fan blades. “Who’s there?” Lily whispered.
Behind the curtains, a figure began to take form. It was a girl with dark curls to her chin. Her gauzy dress blew along with the curtains, making her even harder to see.
“Who — are you?” Lily asked as she slid from the bed to stand.
“I’m Julia,” said the figure.
She looked like the portrait, but the girl in the picture had coffee-colored skin and pretty brown eyes. This girl’s skin was chalk white. Her eyes were completely black, with no color in them at all.
Lily hugged herself, suddenly freezing.
“Come with me, Lily. I have to show you something.”
The ghostly Julia stood in the open window, the sunset glowing orange behind her.
Lily crept toward the window until she and this otherworldly figure stood an arm’s length apart. “What do you want to show me?” Lily asked.
Julia beckoned, waving Lily closer. She floated from the window, hovering in the air. “Come with me.”
Lily knew it made no sense, but somehow she trusted Julia.
She reached out, extending her hand, sure that Julia would grasp it and keep her from falling.
LILY!” AMY shrieked.
Amy’s voice jolted Lily, as though someone had just shaken her awake from a dream.
Where had Julia gone?
Amy clamped both her hands on Lily’s shoulders and pulled her back toward the center of the room. “You looked like you were about to jump out the window. What were you doing?!”
Lily looked at Amy but she couldn’t reply. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say. It would have been insane to step off the window ledge, but she’d been so certain that Julia wouldn’t let her fall.
“Are you even awake?” Amy asked.
She was, but she let Amy steer her back to the pull-out bed, still fe
eling too stunned and dazed to speak.
Amy wrapped her arms around Lily. “Why didn’t you or your mom tell me you’re a sleepwalker?”
But Lily had never walked in her sleep. Not ever! She gripped Amy’s arm. How could she have done such a thing? She would have stepped out if Amy hadn’t stopped her.
Was it the heat? Could she be losing her mind?
When Lily looked at Amy again, her aunt was crying. “What if you had fallen? You never would have survived.”
“But I didn’t fall. I’m fine,” Lily said, finding her voice once more. “And I’ve never —”
Amy went to the window, slamming it shut and turning the latch. Sweat beaded on Lily’s forehead and the heat made her feel faint. “No, please don’t do that. Nothing else will happen. I’ve never walked in my sleep before.”
“I don’t care if we melt into puddles,” Amy replied. “I’m not opening that window.”
“We’ll die in this heat,” Lily protested.
“You’ll die if you fall out the window!” Amy shouted, throwing her arms wide. “Come on, let’s go. I’m buying an air conditioner. I’ll take out another credit card if I have to.”
Every store Amy and Lily went to was sold out of air conditioners. “We can order you one but it won’t come in for a week,” was all they heard.
When they returned to the apartment, it was sweltering. “Please open the window,” Lily pleaded.
“All right,” Amy gave in and pushed the window sash up. “But I’m not taking my eyes off of you.”
“You don’t have to watch me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m not asleep, so I’m not going to sleep walk,” Lily argued.
“I don’t care.”
That night Amy called Lily’s mother and told her about the modeling job. Lily could barely breathe, trying to imagine what her mother was saying.
“Yes, I’ll bring her there and pick her up every time,” Amy said. “Daniella seems very nice, and she has an impressive portfolio….” Lily’s mother wasn’t easily convinced, and Lily began to think her big modeling opportunity would be over before it began. But finally Amy put down the phone and smiled. “Okay, you’re on for tomorrow.”