The Unforgiven Sin

by R. Twine

  ‘Yes, you’re right, Samuel. But I see this subject is not one of your favorites. I hope we’ll return to it sometime later. By the way, do you think we we’re going to suit each other in lovemaking?’ I inquired.

  ‘You’re an amazing girl, Miriam! After giving me the third degree about my thoughts on the afterlife you suddenly switch to the subject of sex,’ said Sam, bewildered, and this time his jaw dropped even lower. ‘No woman has ever complained so far, but we may have to try it to know for sure. I promise I will do my best to satisfy you.’

  Samuel walked round the car, opened the passenger door and extended his hand to help me out. I got out of the car. Our excited glances met – and the air around us sparkled. Sam kissed me on the neck; I leaned towards him, and in a second we were kissing, passionately. Sam pressed the whole length of his body to mine, and cupped my buttocks in his hands. I felt dizzy; both because of the pleasant scent of Sam’s cologne and because of our first act of intimacy beyond the set. I felt my body filling with warmth and desire.

  ‘This is not an appropriate place for lovemaking!’ said an angry voice, interrupting us. ‘There are perverts and harlots wherever you look! Good Lord!’

  We stopped embracing each other, and saw an annoyed elderly man; he walked past us, got into the car and drove off after a short while. Sam followed him with his eyes and said,

  ‘What a weird old man! He thinks we should hide ourselves! I’d gladly make love to you right here and now, if it were possible…’

  ‘But I’d prefer other conditions,’ I said, putting straight my shoulder-straps. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  We entered the elevator, and as soon as its doors closed I pressed my lips against his in a passionate kiss. But no sooner had I done this than the light went out, and a powerful jolt threw us apart.

  ‘Goddamn! What a terrible day!’ yelled Sam, annoyed, ‘First some old crack-pot thinks he has the right to preach at us, now the damn elevator gets stuck…’ He kicked the door and started pressing the buttons hastily at random.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked the voice coming out of a built-in speaker.

  ‘We got stuck!’

  ‘I’ll do everything I can, and within five minutes you’ll be upstairs,’ said a female voice reassuringly.

  We stood against each other in complete silence. Sam leaned over me and whispered,

  ‘I want your kisses to be meant only for me. I want to possess the passion that comes out of the depths of your heart. I want to express my feelings openly, without hiding myself from anyone. I want to love you the way nobody else ever will.’

  Our lips met but the elevator jerked again, and we nearly fell down on the floor. The light came on again.

  ‘Are you okay?’ asked the voice in the speaker.

  ‘Everything’s fine, thanks!’

  The door opened, and we went outside.

  Chapter 26

  Here comes Los Angeles – the “City of Angels,” the city of sin, the city of everlasting holiday. It enthralled me from the first time I saw it.

  This time, like the last time I was here, I checked into a small hotel some distance away from the rest of the actors, and not far from the film set. I put the painting of the bouquet-holding angel onto a small, carved, wooden chest. Just as before, the enigmatic cherub was extending his hand with a bunch of black roses in it and smiling at me pleasantly.

  Samuel was always by my side. His constant, loving gaze on me made me happy. I liked him more with each passing day; his common sense and his attitude towards people and life became increasingly appealing to me. He was consistent, responsive, and willing to compromise. He never tried to impose his opinion on his opponent in order to convince him of his point of view. In conversations, I could often hear his tactful wording of sharp issues: “I can give you a piece of advice because I was once in your shoes”, or “I can’ judge so-and-so, because I would have to know where he or she was coming from first.” Sam was good at getting along with people and could get on their wavelength very easily. I was becoming increasingly convinced that we were a perfect match; we were the right mix of sense and sensibility.

  Still, despite our growing affection for each other, I missed those close to me. And I talked to Natalie, again, to see if she could visit me.

  ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to come visit you as I promised I would’, she said apologetically. ‘I met a man and I don’t want to be away from him, not even for a short time. It seems like I’ve fallen in love. And I want to be with him every minute of my life. I’m sorry, Miriam. You aren’t offended, are you?’

  ‘No, not at all. I understand everything perfectly well; I’m glad your life has taken such a happy turn and I hope it will grow into something bigger…’

  My grandparents didn’t feel like coming to Los Angeles either. Their lack of enthusiasm was understandable, transatlantic flights are difficult to endure at their age.

  My love for Samuel and my busy new life helped keep my feelings of loneliness at bay.

  One day, Jack came to my dressing room. ‘Miriam,’ he said, ‘I’ve changed Liz’s death scene – like you asked.’

  ‘So you’ve finally taken my opinion into account, Jack!’ I exclaimed.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot. As it turns out, Bryan is ridding himself of his hysterical mistress, because he’s afraid of losing what he’d been striving for all his life. He made up his mind to kill the woman who loved him so much! In fact I’m beginning to think that is exactly what happened,’ said Jack, rubbing his hands together in happy anticipation.

  ‘Jack, she was killed’, I stated emphatically.

  ‘I like it when the plot takes such an unexpected turn! There’s more suspense that way. Besides, this is a tragic melodrama we’re producing, not a documentary biopic, so we can easily allow ourselves some leeway’.

  ‘I totally agree with you, Jack’.

  ‘Have you ever tried your hand at writing, Miriam?’ asked Jack, all of a sudden. ‘It’s a field a lot of people are trying to break into nowadays. Our studio receives a lot of scripts from people who have absolutely nothing to do with the film industry. And I have to say some of the scripts we get are worth looking at’.

  ‘I’ll think about it, Jack. It’s a tempting idea, really’.

  ‘There are times when one word or one phrase can change a man’s life. And the moment you open your eyes, the power of the truth awakens in you, and that is the power that will set you on the right path!’ said Jack, solemnly.

  I had never told anyone about the diary I kept, where I recorded every minute detail of my life. I’d been keeping it since the moment I learned to write. It seemed quite strange to me that Jack had started talking about all of this.

  A receptionist phoned to say I had a visitor coming up to see me. A moment later there was a knock on the door.

  ‘It’s open!’ I called out.

  A gloomy-looking Samuel came in.

  ‘Am I bothering you?’ he enquired.

  ‘No, of course not’, I said, closing my notebook. ‘I’m glad you’ve come to visit. Take a seat’. I gestured towards the sofa. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Miriam, in a few months our movie will be finished. You’re probably going to leave America, and I’ve signed a contract with another studio for a new film’, Sam said, sadly. ‘I’ve gotten so used to you … I’ll miss you’.

  ‘Why are you being so pessimistic, Sam? You are preparing yourself for our parting too far in advance, aren’t you? Being an actor means making a lot of sacrifices, and you know this better than I do. Of course we could be making movies in other cities or countries, anywhere in the world, but it doesn’t mean we won’t be able to see each other anymore. I can come to you by plane, and you’ll be able to come to me, too’.

  ‘I love you, Miriam. And it’s very important for me that you know this. I don’t want to live by some vague idea and unfounded illusions, hoping that someday we’ll be together. I don’t even know whether or not
you love me. You are good at concealing your thoughts and feelings, and sometimes I feel like my hopes are in vain’.

  ‘You don’t know how wrong you are, Samuel! I’m simply afraid that when I fall in love with you, I will suffer from our long separations. I don’t believe in long-distance love affairs. And I don’t want to suffer any more…’

  ‘With me it’s different, Miriam. I have nothing against suffering for a woman I love. It’s far worse being with a woman who I don’t particularly care about. And you’ve got everything I want and value in a woman! You are everything I could ever dream of!’

  Overcome by emotion, Sam got up and started pacing back and forth. Suddenly, he stopped at the picture my mother had painted.

  ‘Hmm, this picture gives me an eerie feeling… Such a pretty angel – and such a morbid bouquet… What caused such an image to appear in the painter’s mind, I wonder’, he said thoughtfully. ‘You know, there are paintings that can bring bad luck and even death to their owners. I heard about a story from a friend. They had bought an old and very valuable picture at a closed auction – and their lives became a living hell in no time. Luckily, they quickly resold it. But its new owners suddenly ran into bad luck too: they died soon after in a car crash. The painting went to auction once again, where it was bought by yet another new owner who went bankrupt just one month after buying it. It seems that picture had a lot of negative energy! In no time it became notorious for bringing bad luck, and nobody had the nerve to become its new owner. The last I heard, it was purchased by some woman; and the strangest thing is that nothing bad seems to have happened in her house since. It may be that the painting, after its numerous travels from one owner to another, has finally returned to its rightful owner!’ mused Samuel.

  ‘What was depicted in the picture? And who was the woman?’ I enquired cautiously.

  ‘As far as I can remember, it was a picture of a man with one of his hands smeared with blood, and a naked girl, her face veiled. I only ever saw the picture once, it left a big impact on me. I remember very clearly feeling kind of jealous of this friend of mine, and offered to buy the treasure from him. He turned down my offer then, and it was only later that he told me the story of the streak of bad luck that had affected his family. But I can’t tell you anything about the woman who owns this picture now’.

  ‘And who was the painter?’

  ‘The painter is unknown, but the picture was created in the 16th century! Still, one thing is clear: it was painted by an Italian,' said Samuel.

  ‘Well, that’s very interesting, indeed!’ I mused.

  ‘By the way – I nearly forgot – the picture is called “Genius”.’

  When Samuel was gone, I sat pondering over this story. The “Genius” my mother had created resembled this unfortunate picture so much! But I couldn’t explain such a coincidence.

  Christmas was coming, and it was with great pleasure that I accepted Samuel’s offer to spend our short holiday in his oceanfront home not far from Los Angeles. I decided not to think about my fate anymore. Now, I didn’t want to wait any longer, wasting the time that fate had allotted me for love. I was ready to explore the world of sexual pleasures with the man I was in love with. The mystery of sex was luring me into its invisible net, and I was happy I could spend a few days alone with Sam. It was going to be my first love affair!

  ‘Is this all of your luggage?’ asked Sam, gazing in astonishment at my small suitcase and a plastic container with the angel in it.

  ‘Yes, it is’, I answered, and added, seemingly unaware of what he meant. ‘Do you think this is too much to carry?’

  ‘No, I mean this is very little. You always travel light, like a real soldier!’ he chuckled. ‘You never seem to be apart from this picture, do you?’ he asked, pointing to the picture-carrying case.

  ‘This painting, unlike the one you’ve just told me about, protects me. As for the luggage – I hate dragging a pile of suitcases and bags with me!’

  We pulled up to a big beautiful house. Sam, moving with apparent ease, jumped out of the car, and opened the passenger door to help me out.

  ‘Wow!’ I breathed out, having noticed a tall, beautifully dressed Christmas tree whose garlands illuminated the garden. ‘It’s really wonderful, Sam!’

  ‘How can you celebrate Christmas without a Christmas tree?’ he responded. ‘I want you to spend these days in an unforgettable, magical atmosphere. I want you to be happy with me, Miriam!’

  We entered a light and spacious hall where we were met by a maid. She greeted us and said politely ‘I’ll take your luggage to your room’.

  Then we passed through to the sitting room where there was another Christmas tree standing proudly in the center.

  ‘Have you really done all this just for me?’ I asked, moved.

  ‘Yes, I have, honey, because I wanted to make you happy. I knew how much you liked this holiday! Do you really like the tree?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Surely I do! Thank you, Sam, for bringing me back to my carefree childhood! But how did you know I was so fond of Christmas?’

  ‘Everybody’s fond of Christmas!’ he smiled back. ‘Especially women.’

  ‘Your answer is very convincing!’ I said, laughing.

  Samuel started showing me about his villa. I definitely liked it.

  ‘What a beautiful house you have! There’s not too much of anything, it is beautifully designed, and the colors you have chosen are just perfect. I’ll admit it, you’ve got good taste.’

  ‘And here’s your room!’ Sam declared proudly.

  The room was big and spacious, and was very modern in style. There was a big poster on the wall with a purple heart painted on it; in the middle of which was written: “Welcome, Miriam!” Deeply moved, I turned to Sam.

  ‘You really can unfreeze even a heart of stone!’

  ‘I’d be the happiest man on earth if I managed to unfreeze yours…’ said Sam, giving me a meaningful look.

  ‘You have a beautiful house, and the room is completely to my liking!’

  ‘The house is designed so that almost all the rooms look out over the ocean and there is a big common terrace. I myself made corrections in the design. I like to have a lot of light and space. I prefer a modern design with an interior dominated by light colors. My parents’ house, huge and old, was dominated by dark, wooden furniture, and sunlight was unable to get through the shady trees that grew near the windows. I hated the place and would escape from it whenever I could. The usual response my parents gave to my complaints that our house resembled a huge closet was, “If you earn enough money to buy your own house when you grow up, you’ll be able to buy whatever house you like. But while you live under our roof, don’t you dare tell us how it should look.” By the way, they visited my house only twice and came to the conclusion that “it’s nothing more than a typical modern living box.” In short, they are very weird people and I try to keep my contact with them to a minimum,’ sighed Sam.

  ‘Sam, you’re a famous actor, loved and admired by everybody. You have a beautiful house many people could only dream of owning. Finally, you’re a self-contained, handsome and well-mannered man. Your parents must be proud of you!’ I said, trying to cheer him up.

  ‘My parents are totally lukewarm about me, they simply don’t need me. They have their own ideas about love. I don’t hold it against them, but if I ever have children, I hope I won’t treat them like they aren’t important. It’s hard to start life without the love of your parents, Miriam; it’s so horrible to get the feeling, from early childhood, that you are unloved by your parents. All these years I’ve been looking for love, leaving one woman for another only because my mother never told me she loved me… or said anything like “How handsome you are, my son”, for that matter. Many years ago, I left my parents after another one of their criticisms; I cut off all contact with them, and it was only recently that I got back in touch with them at my sister’s request. My mother was ill, and Nancy begged me to visit her in the hospital. I event
ually gave in to her begging. But when I saw my mother’s cold and colorless eyes again, I quickly became aware that she had no regrets whatsoever, and that her personal disposition hadn’t changed at all. The only thing stopping me from getting married was my fear of marrying the wrong woman. I was afraid she would stop loving me or our children later on. I grew up in an atmosphere of indifference and disregard, and was almost one hundred percent sure that true and sincere love didn’t exist at all.’

  ‘My dear Samuel, the past always leaves its imprint, and there’s no escaping this fact. I was lucky: my parents adored me, and after they died, my natural guardians, who were my grandparents, gave me all their love. But it took me several years to get rid of the burden of pain that weighed so heavily upon my shoulders. The loss of loved ones cannot be compared with any other pain; you just cannot get used to the fact that they are gone forever. The pain in the soul eases as the years go by, but the wound in the heart never heals, and it manifests itself again, from time to time. I went from being a vivacious child to being a gloomy teenage girl who withdrew into herself. My grief made me turn my back upon the world around me, and build an insurmountable wall between me and other people. And it is only recently that I became aware of the simple truth that the farther you distance yourself from people, the bigger the mess you’re going to get into later. We are all interconnected with each other, and you mustn’t cut these bonds. Maybe, it is not your parents’ fault that they are incapable of loving others. It might well be that their parents treated them coldly and heartlessly, too - because everything’s interconnected in this world,’ I said, reiterating my point.

  As we talked about our lives, time quickly flew by. Sam stopped, looked at his watch and said, ‘If you like, we could go out and have lunch – there’s a cozy place I know nearby.’

  ‘I’d rather stay at home,’ I said quietly.

  ‘As you wish, darling. I’ll order some seafood from a restaurant then… and some more food for supper.’