A dyslexic writer laughing at himself ...

Sunday, January 19, 2014

A Year of Stories: January Story 2

 The Painter
Edit_1 By: Amber Funderburk
(http://ofmonstrousgods.blogspot.com/)
By: Chase L. Currie

“It's time . . .”
“Time for what?” I asked but it was a question that was pointless and oh how I knew that. I wanted to ask it again but I couldn't. My mouth wouldn't open. Maybe, it was out of fear or maybe, it was out of sorrow but it did not matter. The time that I had, it was now over, and the face in front of mine must leave my sight. I sat there, not saying a word, not moving, just looking, dazing into the eyes. It's always the eyes.
I sat in the dark of my studio, in front of my canvas as the world outside fell into darkness. The night brought the cold of the winter to my windows and for a while the glass did its job. It stops the icy air from breathing down my neck, creaking at my hands, and chilling my toes. But soon the windows failed and the cold came rushing in.
I don't mind the cold when I am working. There something about the icy air that rips the thoughts from my mind, and my hands in a desperate attempt tries to get the idea quickly onto the canvas. I guess that is why I love the cold so much; it makes me stop thinking and just work.
But that night, something was awry. The cold wasn't from the outside; it was from the shadows in the room. My candle’s light fought against the darkness but the flames were quickly dying. What a sad thing to see, a candle giving up on life. What a sad state of things to watch the flames fade. But the light somehow always seems brighter in those moments of death. I want to say I understand it but that would be a lie.
My hands work their magic. They paint like demons, as if I wasn't their master. They painted something I didn't want to face . . .
It was the darkness, the things in the shadow, the man waiting for me. He watched me as I painted. He peered into the very thing that I am, the very thing the paints said about me. They told my story, a story I wished never to write.
My hands moved around, quickly, taking up deep reds and warm blues, blending them together in the background. Then my hand took up another brush, and carved out a head from the blues and reds with a deep harsh black line. They moved in to fill the head with color, giving it life, with every yellow, every green, and red with a hint of blue giving the man in the painting more life. He wasn't alive though, at least not in this canvas. Normally, my paintings are more of a living person than the people I know but not this one.
This one was once alive but now is resting under a cold gravestone. Maybe that is why his eyes became gray, a harsh dull gray that send tears from eyes. They flooded down my cheeks like rivers rushing to an unseen ocean, as I add the most insignificant of details to his eyes. I painted them over and over and over . . .
With every touch of the wet paint, every mark made in those eyes, traps a soul in them. Was it my soul? Only God knew.
When I was done, it was late, and the paint was still wet. I sat there in horror at the face in front of me. A man, I have never faced. A fact of life I ran from every day. I sat there, weeping like a child in the cold dark. I weep for a warm hand, wrapping around my body, telling me I was safe. Safe. Safe to come out of the darkness, to crawl back out from under my bed. The monsters in the night were gone, just a bad dream and I, the man in the painting, am here to save you. I wept.
For hours, until my eyes couldn't bleed anymore tears, I wept.
Then a calm came over me. Like the passing of some storm at sea, I was still. I looked at the eyes. They were once loving or that is how I remember them but now they are cold and dead. Cold as stone and dead as the candle beside me. That wasn't right. He's eyes were not like that but why did my hands paint them that way? That was the question. A question that had to have an answer in my mind. I sat there for hours, asking him why his eyes were so cold, but he never told me.
Then, I smiled at him. It has been so long, so many years that I had almost forgotten what it was like to see him. I smiled and told him everything I've always wanted to say. He listened to me for hours.
Soon the sun rose, I could smell it, almost feel the heat from the burning star. The last moment of the night fading away like the candle that died hours ago. The sun rays wastes away the cold night. But the cold, it wasn't from the night, it was from him. Then another hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing hard against me and he said, those words I wish never to hear, “It is time.” It is time for me to let go, time for him to take the painting away, time for him to tear the man away from me again. Time for him snatch the last moment of joy in my bright burning room.
“No,” I wept. I fell to the floor, my hands running down the wet painting of the canvas, destroying the man's face. I looked at the color, now staining my fingertips, and throw myself back in horror. I look at what I have done. It was my hands that destroy him, not the hands of Death. I couldn't believe my eyes. I didn't want to see. I tried everything to block out the smeared paint but nothing worked. I sat there looking in horror, at what I have done. Screaming to the Father above, why I was a fool!
“I can no longer be the painter for Death,” I said as the black cloak moved around me. His boney flesh hands picking up the painting, studying the lines running down the paint where my fingers had made a mess. His scythe lays against his body. “I can't do it anymore.” I told him, but the words fall on deaf ears. I could not see his face, if that is what he had, but I knew there was a smile across it nevertheless. He loved the painting, why, I cannot tell you.
I yelled the same words as he stood there. As the angel of death with black wings stood in my studio smiling at the work I had done. He always, always . . . made me paint the dead. He loves seeing them in color, loves seeing the people in a different light. For I imagine, he dreads the idea of always seeing them in their last moments. Hearing their cries, and fearing his wings. They never understand, he is not an angel of evil or wrath or hate but a loving, caring angel, one that wishes to rip you from all the pain in your life and show you a new kind of joy.
How I wish in that moment, on the floor, he would rip me from my pain. But Death and I have always had an odd relationship. I was meant to die when I was young but I never did. I was saved and maybe, I was saved by him. He knew I would grow up to be an artist. For Death wears the Crown of Knowledge and knows all things to come.
“This is the best work you have done so far, my friend,” he whispers or yells or just speaks like a normal man. His words echo in my ears while at the same time sit on my heart like a stone. “Until next time.” In a flash of glimmering darkness he was gone and I knew, as I stood up . . .


 I am forever in his debt.

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