The Untold Tale

Love's Messenger- Marie Spartali Stillman

(a work of fiction inspired by this painting...)

"Effie," Marie called out to her daughter one more time, when she walked into her painting. It had faded overtime, but she still remembered how it came to be. In fact it had been one of her first and finest works. She had never told anyone the story, because it wasn't hers to tell. But maybe it was time for her ever - curious daughter to know who the lady in the painting really was.

***

Every day she watched her aunt stand beside the window, waiting; as if something should happen today. But every day was yet again the same as yesterday. The look of pure anticipation she saw every morning as her aunt sat down with her embroidery, by the open French window always turned to deep sorrow by dusk. And this happened every day, for as long as Marie could remember.

Nothing was different today. The day began the same way it always did. Marie saw her aunt take her place by the window in the drawing room. Never saying a word, and barely responding to her niece's consistent greetings. Marie was overcome by a deep sense of curiosity and sadness for her aunt. Her aunt's actions spoke of an infinite wait of a loved one and a heart being broken into yet another piece every day.

Marie imagined what would happen if her aunt's wait ever did come to end. She wondered if her aunt would ever go back to being the wild child she had been in the tales that Marie had heard her mother so often recount.

From all Marie had heard, her aunt had been quite a riot. There never was a day in which someone in the household had escaped her aunt's pranks or a day in which the neighbour's eternal distaste of this loud, fair maiden unvoiced. They said her eyes twinkled with mischief when she woke up in the mornings. And did so until the soldiers had marched up the lands and surrounded them, occupying all inns and motels in the village. Even then her aunt had against the advice of the elders, jumped across the fence and gone to the lake where she went daily. This had continued in secret until it was time for the soldiers to abandon this shelter and move to a new abode.

All the villagers silently cheered as the soldiers left their homeland; except for one fair maiden. She silently wept at their departure. She wore a rose and silently prayed, by the lake, that they return one day. It is said that she lost herself at the lake that day. Her aunt was never the same again.

Marie prayed for that lively soul to return. She hoped to see the mischievous gleam in those eyes yet again. But this was a wait that could only end with the last of her aunt's breath, Marie knew. So she looked at her aunt that day. She observed the lovely gown her aunt had adorned, the rose that she wore. She noted the patterns of the needle and thread on her aunt's embroidery. Most of all she saw the unusual piece her aunt was working. A cupid she saw, however, it was not the cupid that caught her attention. The cupid was blind - folded. It was beautiful, but somehow this made Marie even sadder. This made her realize her aunt's plight; her aunt was aware of her futile wait, yet she was going to do it all the same.

At that instant Marie decided that her aunt should be remembered. Marie was a skilled artist and she knew of only one way to immortalize her aunt; so she decided to etch her aunt into canvas using her water colours. But she also wanted to show the world her aunt's real passion, so she began her strokes on the canvas. An idea taking over her actions. She saw her aunt come to life on the canvas, the gown, the rose, the piece of embroidery; but she also added a dove which would carry a letter. She hoped that this could have been an alternate reality for her aunt and maybe then she could have found the answers to her questions and solace in that letter.

Years later Marie's daughter, Euphrosyne (Effie) would learn this story of her great aunt. And maybe they'd keep it a family secret. But her aunt would always be remembered.

The Aftermath

It was the third morning since Jared had heard any news of more deaths. This was indeed a good omen surely, or so he thought. This meant the vaccines were working. It had been utter pandemonium the last three months. An outbreak of a unique, yet indistinct, virus in the city of Emanest, incidentally also the fourth most populous city on the periphery of Denver, had the whole country facing a pandemic. Nothing of this sort had been heard since a similar outburst in Texas, thirteen years ago. Unfortunately nothing of this virus had hitherto been identified either. It affected on a cellular level- broke down the structure of the DNA and in some cases caused surface level deformation. It took as long as it had to restrict the spreading because the symptoms showed after two weeks or more which almost always meant it was too late for help. However after much debate in Congress, permission had been granted to experiment on the deceased, and the voluntary living- most in their last stages, to find a cure.

Jared raised the blinds to look for any happenings outside his house. Not a soul on the street, as it had been for the past week. The city had been under complete lock-down. No entry or exit, without express permission from D.C. All vehicles entering with food and other necessities were thoroughly checked and food tested and injected with the new vaccine and sent directly to every household. The death toll had been devastating. Every family had had its losses and some unfortunate names had perished. Most that  displayed odd symptoms were separated from their families for caution.

Jared had lost his father, his sister was still recovering. She was still too weak to walk around. He had been one of the lucky few.  He was not feeling all too well himself. He had been having severe headaches the past two days, some mild, some severe enough to black him out. Although lately his hearing had become more refined; in a sense. He heard when his sister called for him from her room upstairs, even from the kitchen, and she could barely whisper. Today he could swear he heard his neighbors the Brays’ arguing about something they referred to as ‘sickness’. He worried if one of them had contracted the virus, they had just lost one of their twin sons and the other was not doing well. It did not occur to him that he should not have heard even a word of that conversation because of the 33 meters between their houses and the fact that they were arguing in their basement. He ignored what he was hearing and resolved to make breakfast for his sister.

In her room upstairs, Rachel could hear her brother was in the kitchen. He had been very supportive of her condition. He had become more responsible overnight. She’d be the one to usually take care of the house chores when their dad was away. Lately though she didn't have the strength or want to go on after they lost their father and Jared knew how close she was to him. But she had decided. She owed her little brother more than this. He was after all her only family.

She was making an attempt to get out of bed when she noticed she couldn't feel her legs, or rather they felt much too light- almost weightless. Yes she had regained the use of her feet after viral outbreak, but she was only getting to walking on her own today. She fell over with the first step she took and let out an involuntary gasp, mostly in her head. She didn't want to worry Jared. She got up and took another step forward and fell again. It was not that she was clumsy; she had no control over her actions. Her feet had a mind of their own it seemed. She got up again. After landing on her face for the third time she realized her feet were moving too fast for her to control. But she was also feeling a change in her body. The weightlessness was spreading to her upper body. It was like warmth as the body soaks into a hot bath. She surrendered to it. She felt much better; she had not felt physically better for a long time.

She took a few more steps and crashed into Jared.

‘How did you do that?’ he asked incredulously getting up.

‘Do what?’

‘One second I hear you shout and you’re struggling on your feet and then in a blink you almost apparate onto me!’

‘What are you talking about Jared?’

‘Rach, you just moved lightning fast… - you didn't realize?’ He looked at her for some explanation.

She was taking it all in. She did realize something was not right. She couldn't have made it to the door in literally a blink. The force she knocked him down with was evident of her speed. And then she realized something else.

‘But I didn't shout, Jared...’

They stared at each other; neither trusting the other to say the right thing.

*  *  *

Seven kilometers away, Fred was going out of his mind. The voices in his head wouldn't go away. He kept hearing them louder and louder. If only he could tell them to stop. There was only one problem- they were all dead.

*  *  *

Mr. Bray stared at his son, Josh for the hundredth time. He seemed bluer than before and he could swear he was almost twice his size now. Somehow he had gained weight, height and age in an hour or so. Mrs. Bray couldn't stop sobbing; she couldn't bear to lose another son. And she was not going to let them take him away either. She would hide in the basement her whole life if that’s what it took to keep him. And Josh, he just smiled at Frank, sharing his secret only with his brother.

A New Start...

It takes time, but it happens. Always. For me it took twice. The first was a shocker indeed, but I’d been expecting it pretty much all my life. So although it was unexpected, nasty and everything I’d thought it would be, it was still only a slight tremor in comparison to the tsunami that was about to hit.

The second time was when the destructive tidal wave hit shore. Maybe because this was not expected or maybe I just wished it wouldn't happen again. Once was ugly enough. But that’s not how it works. The message is supposed to be etched into the un-forgetting part in the brain. So it came, as it always does, and when it does come it hits, and it hit, it hit hard. Left me shattered.

All I believed to be true, all the plans I’d ever made and all the dreams I ever had, seemed to be fading slowly into abyss. I was standing on a precipice. There were two options- I could reach back the way I came, slowly climb back and take the time and put things back to normal; or at least the way everybody else wanted it to be. The other option was in front of me. There was only one problem. My eyes were blurred, I couldn’t see beyond my feet. It was a cavernous drop. The rational thing to do was to step back. But I was unsure if that was where I wanted to be.

Decisions made when you are emotionally distraught are inadvisable, because nine out ten times they are hasty, and not thought through. But there’s still the one tenth of a chance it’s going to be the right decision, and from where I was standing that was more than what I had to go on with for the moment. Although; I had given my decision some thought. And by my standard that was enough time- so who decides if it’s enough time or not, anyway?

I turned and looked back, it was clear as day. All I had to do was trace my steps back and pick myself up from where I’d fallen. It would all go back to what it was. This moment? Just one of many pit falls. This was the smart thing to do. But was it right? I couldn't know.

I turned to see in front of me, still dark and obscure. Just for a moment, I let all reason abandon me. I then saw. It was a mere dot, far, far away. It was just a small glimpse; like a shard of broken mirror catching the sun’s ray. Gone in a blink. But I saw it and it was full of promise. I knew then, its name- Hope. And in that moment, because a moment was enough, I decided.

I walked a few a steps back. It felt right. And in that moment of un-reasoned decision, I sped straight towards the drop- I took the plunge.