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"but it makes a statement."
"Really? That sounds interesting." She started to unwrap it. Helen stepped back and looked at
Norma and Jean, both fixed on the painting being unwrapped. Miriam pulled all the paper off
before holding it up.
For a long moment, no one said anything. The colors were vibrant, so bright it seemed as if
there was a bulb behind the canvas. At first, Miriam wasn't sure which side was up. Since
Helen didn't say otherwise, she assumed she was holding it correctly.
The top of the painting was done in long, soft strokes of sapphire emerging from a wafer at
the center which was the color and texture of a Communion wafer. Directly below the blue
was a dark green area shaped like palisades, the edges sharp, the incline very steep. Pouring
over the palisades was a female figure stretched and twisted into a liquid form, but there was a
distinct face caught up in an expression of agony and dread as her body spilled over the brink and
down into what looked to be a sea of boiling blood. There were tiny, bone-white bubbles popping
up out of the sea.
"Well," Norma said, "that certainly makes a statement."
"What colors!" Jean remarked.
"I've never seen anything like it," Miriam said and then wondered if she had sounded negative.
"But I..."
"If you don't want it, I'll understand," Helen said. "As I said, my work is special."
"No, no, I want it. I want it very much. I can't wait to see Kevin's reaction... anyone's reaction, for
that matter." She turned to Helen. "It's definitely the kind of thing that draws attention and sets
everyone talking. Thank you." She stared at Helen for a moment. "It was very special to you,
wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then that makes it even more valuable to me," Miriam said, trying to sound sincere but realizing
she sounded too patronizing. "Really," she added.
"If it isn't now, it will be," Helen said prophetically. Miriam looked to Norma and Jean. Both pressed
their lips together as if to contain their laughter. "Well, I'm sorry I have to go so quickly, but..."
"Oh, no... no. I understand." More than you think, Miriam thought. "You go on. We'll catch up
later. Once I get settled here, I want you and Paul to come over for dinner."
Helen smiled as if Miriam had made the most ridiculous suggestion. "Thank you," she said
and started away.
"And thank you," Miriam called after her. No one said anything until Helen left.
Then Norma and Jean looked at each other and burst into laughter. Miriam shook her head,
smiling.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Hang it in the hallway closet."
"Or on the outside of your front door," Jean suggested. "It'll serve as a deterrent, keeping
burglars and salesmen away."
"I just felt so sorry for her. She is disturbed. This painting." She held it up again. "It's like a
nightmare!"
"It makes a statement," Norma quipped, and Jean and she laughed again.
"Yes, it says 'aarrgh'!" Jean exclaimed, seizing her own throat and falling to her knees. Norma
and Miriam laughed.
"I'll just leave it in the corner until Kevin comes home. Once he sees it, he'll see why I would
rather not hang it."
"You were wonderful, though," Norma said. "You handled her well."
"She's going to see her therapist, I gather."
"Yes. Paul's got his hands full. I feel sorry for him. We have tried to help, haven't we, Jean?"
"For weeks after Gloria's death, we called Helen and invited her to go places with us, but she
locked herself up in the apartment and brooded. Finally, Mr. Milton got Paul to do something.
If you think she's strange now, you should have seen her just after Gloria's death. She came to
my apartment once and became hysterical, crying that we all had to move out of here, that we
were all in danger... as if the building caused Gloria's death and Richard's suicide. I couldn't make
any sense out of what she was babbling, and finally I called Dave. He got a hold of Paul, and Paul
came to take her back to their place."
"They called a doctor who put her on sedatives," Norma continued. "Obviously, she's still
somewhat sedated."
"She must have been very close to Gloria Jaffee."
"Not any closer than we were," Jean said sharply, a note of resentment in her voice.
"I just thought..."
"She's just... so sensitive," Norma explained, holding the back of her right hand against her fore-
head. "Because she's an artist and the artist's soul is in continual turmoil. After all," she went on,
taking on the voice of a pedantic college professor, "she sees the tragic irony that lives beneath all
things." She sighed.
"Still, I can't help but feel sorry for her," Miriam said, looking toward the front entrance as if
Helen were still standing there.
"So do we," Jean said. "We're just getting a bit tired of it all. It's such a downer. All right, Gloria Jaffee
had a tragic ending and Richard's suicide was horrible, but it's all over and there's nothing any of us
can do to change what happened."
"We've got to go on with our lives," Norma added.
"The best thing we can do is be emotionally up whenever Helen's around," Jean said. "Mr. Milton
told us that, remember, Norma?"
"Uh-huh. Well..." She looked at her watch. "I guess I'd better go shower and prepare dinner."
"Me too," Jean said.
"I don't know how I'll ever thank you two."
"Nonsense, you'll find a way," Norma said, and they all laughed again.
It was good to feel happy, Miriam thought, and these two could make anyone feel that way
quickly. She hugged them both, and then they left.
As soon as they did, Miriam plopped down on the couch and closed her eyes. She must have
fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, Kevin was standing before her, smiling and
shaking his head. He still had his briefcase in his hand.
"Goofing off on the job, huh?"
"Oh, Kev." She scrubbed her face with her dry palms and looked around. "I must have dozed
off. What time is it?"
"A little after six."
"Really? I did doze off. Norma and Jean left over an hour ago."
"See you guys did a lot, though," he said, looking around. "You deserve a wonderful dinner
out. On the way back in the limo, Dave and Ted told me about a restaurant only two blocks
west, a small Italian place run by a family. Everything has that home-cooked flavor and it's
very informal. Sounds wonderfully relaxing, doesn't it?"
"Yes."
"Let's shower... together."
"If we do that, Kevin, we may not eat for hours."
"I'll gamble," he said, reaching down to pull her into a standing position. He embraced her,
and they kissed. "After all, we have to break in our bedroom. First night here." She laughed
and kissed him on the tip of his nose. They started away, arms around each other's waist.
"Whoa..." Kevin suddenly said. "What's that?"
He looked down at Helen Scholefield's painting. Miriam had placed it on the floor against the
rear wall.
"Oh, Kevin... Paul's wife stopped by. It was... weird. She brought us that painting as a welcoming
gift. I didn't know what to do about it."
"You didn't make her feel bad, did you?" he asked quickly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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