make it into the Snow White story. That’s what the cottage is like inside. Bright enough, with a view of the lake, but the walls – the far wall in particular, on your left as you go in – are a mess of drips and smears. The floor is a minefield of gooey rags and ripped pictures and jars of paintbrushes. I can’t imagine how she can find a place to put her size 37 feet. There’s a sharp smell of smoke and turpentine. My eyes water. Pretty yucky.
The garden outside was a fairy tale – and I suppose this is too. Fairy tales have their yucky side. Imagine living in a shoe with an old lady who starved you and beat you.
A plain wooden table and chair are the only pieces of furniture in the room. There isn’t even a bed. She sleeps in a sleeping bag on the floor.
–
Great steaming mugs of cocoa!
says Norbert.
What a wonderful picture!
What’s he see that I don’t? I’m standing next to the far wall.
She’s beside me, fiddling with something in her hands.
“Do you like it?” she says. “Do you really like it?”
–
You’ve captured the subject perfectly. What apparency! What transilience! Mars, isn’t it? Mars and Venus.
“Mars. Really? Why…I suppose it could be. Mars and Venus.”
–
And Saturn. And Pluto.
“Really?”
–
And the Cocoa Jug. It’s a real misterpiece!
She isn’t paying attention. “I thought of calling it
Man and Woman.
”
–
Why on Jupiter would you do that?
Victor’s eating a health bar and staring out the window. There’s a pair of high-powered binoculars on the table. He fiddles with them, puts them to his eyes.
“But you’re right, Alan,” says Doris thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I see that it could be Mars and Venus. You know, you’re very mature for a youngster. I’ve never put a classical theme into my work before. The Arts Council will be impressed. They might even renew my grant.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. I’m staring at the paint-spattered wall. Thousands and thousands of dabs of color. You know, I can see Norbert’s point. All the little dots and streaks against a plain dark background. He’s right. Forget the pictures; the wall
itself
looks like the night sky. Is that what he means about Mars and Venus? Maybe.
“What’s that, Norbert?” I point at a big blob in the middle of the wall. “A comet?”
–
The Clam Nebula, of course. Nerissa looks for it every night.
“What do you think of the frame, then?” Doris holds a picture in her hands. That’s what she’s been staring at all this time. The size of a small poster, and almost as brightly colored. “Should the frame be more ornate, if the painting has a classical title?” She holds it up. I notice what the picture is actually about. Oh, my gosh!
–
Hey, they’ve got no clothes on!
says Norbert.
I start to giggle. I can’t help it. I’m pretty embarrassed. There’s another picture on the far wall, and a bunch more stacked on the floor. I check them out.
Whew!
Not a shirt or pair of pants in sight.
“What’s wrong?” asks Doris. “I’d call it a perfectly natural expression of feeling.”
–
I’d call it bathtime!
I giggle some more.
She hangs the picture on a nail and stands back. There’s her name at the bottom right. DORIS APPEL.
–
Now I can’t see the Milky Way
, says Norbert.
“HEY!” Victor’s on his feet, the binoculars at his eyes. “THERE’S MR. LEECH!”
I stop giggling. Naked people aren’t funny anymore. I run over. “Where?”
My heart is beating. Well, I know it is, but what I mean is, I can feel it beating. Like a pile driver. I peer out excitedly.
The window looks out over the end of a lake. Most of the right-hand side of the window shows open water. Looking to the left, I can see where the water narrows and the land drops away. There’s a small waterfall and the start of what looks like a river.
I don’t see Christopher anywhere. Victor’s got the binoculars pointed away from shore.
“Where?” I
The garden outside was a fairy tale – and I suppose this is too. Fairy tales have their yucky side. Imagine living in a shoe with an old lady who starved you and beat you.
A plain wooden table and chair are the only pieces of furniture in the room. There isn’t even a bed. She sleeps in a sleeping bag on the floor.
–
Great steaming mugs of cocoa!
says Norbert.
What a wonderful picture!
What’s he see that I don’t? I’m standing next to the far wall.
She’s beside me, fiddling with something in her hands.
“Do you like it?” she says. “Do you really like it?”
–
You’ve captured the subject perfectly. What apparency! What transilience! Mars, isn’t it? Mars and Venus.
“Mars. Really? Why…I suppose it could be. Mars and Venus.”
–
And Saturn. And Pluto.
“Really?”
–
And the Cocoa Jug. It’s a real misterpiece!
She isn’t paying attention. “I thought of calling it
Man and Woman.
”
–
Why on Jupiter would you do that?
Victor’s eating a health bar and staring out the window. There’s a pair of high-powered binoculars on the table. He fiddles with them, puts them to his eyes.
“But you’re right, Alan,” says Doris thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I see that it could be Mars and Venus. You know, you’re very mature for a youngster. I’ve never put a classical theme into my work before. The Arts Council will be impressed. They might even renew my grant.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. I’m staring at the paint-spattered wall. Thousands and thousands of dabs of color. You know, I can see Norbert’s point. All the little dots and streaks against a plain dark background. He’s right. Forget the pictures; the wall
itself
looks like the night sky. Is that what he means about Mars and Venus? Maybe.
“What’s that, Norbert?” I point at a big blob in the middle of the wall. “A comet?”
–
The Clam Nebula, of course. Nerissa looks for it every night.
“What do you think of the frame, then?” Doris holds a picture in her hands. That’s what she’s been staring at all this time. The size of a small poster, and almost as brightly colored. “Should the frame be more ornate, if the painting has a classical title?” She holds it up. I notice what the picture is actually about. Oh, my gosh!
–
Hey, they’ve got no clothes on!
says Norbert.
I start to giggle. I can’t help it. I’m pretty embarrassed. There’s another picture on the far wall, and a bunch more stacked on the floor. I check them out.
Whew!
Not a shirt or pair of pants in sight.
“What’s wrong?” asks Doris. “I’d call it a perfectly natural expression of feeling.”
–
I’d call it bathtime!
I giggle some more.
She hangs the picture on a nail and stands back. There’s her name at the bottom right. DORIS APPEL.
–
Now I can’t see the Milky Way
, says Norbert.
“HEY!” Victor’s on his feet, the binoculars at his eyes. “THERE’S MR. LEECH!”
I stop giggling. Naked people aren’t funny anymore. I run over. “Where?”
My heart is beating. Well, I know it is, but what I mean is, I can feel it beating. Like a pile driver. I peer out excitedly.
The window looks out over the end of a lake. Most of the right-hand side of the window shows open water. Looking to the left, I can see where the water narrows and the land drops away. There’s a small waterfall and the start of what looks like a river.
I don’t see Christopher anywhere. Victor’s got the binoculars pointed away from shore.
“Where?” I
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