Art Lovers I was in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, on the escalator, when he appeared next to me. He did this often and I had to pretend that he wasn’t there. No one else could see him. “Hey, wuz up!” He was dressed as usual - in a toga, wearing a crown of fig leaves on his head. This time though, something was way off. It was his feet. “Yeah, they’re hiking boots. Sandals just won’t cut it in the snow.” He smiled. Leo was my guardian angel, had been my whole life, and although he never did much guarding, he was partial to tormenting. I walked off the escalator, and my guardian angel followed. “So, Gwen. Gwen! GWEN! YOU’RE JUST GONNA IGNORE ME?!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, fists clenched, the redness burning in his face. My immature tormenting angel. I stopped walking and turned to Leo as an elderly man walked off the escalator. The man passed right through Leo without even a flinch. “Hey, watch your step buddy! I hate it when they do that.” “Don’t bother me Leo. I’m having a bad day and want to be alone. So if you don’t behave in here…” “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I cleared my throat and prepared for my only defense. “Oh When the Saints… Come marching in… oh when the saints come marching in--“ Leo disappeared. I considered myself a blue-collar art lover. My classes on art interpretation and appreciation, I never really got them. I tried really hard to differentiate between Claro Oscuro and Impressionism, but gave it all up for just staring at pictures, paintings, and architecture and saying, “Cool.” I was never good at putting my words into feelings anyway. Leo reappeared while I was in the Ancient Rome room. He spent the next half-hour talking to the inanimate bust of Julius Caesar. I caught bits of his one-sided conversation. “I swear Jules, I didn’t know! I had nothing to do with it! The Ides of March, that’s just a fancy word for-- Do you mind?!” He caught me listening, then continued. “I don’t know how I can saw this and mean it any more…” He teared up. “I’m sorry Jules.” He caught me looking again. “What? I have something in my eye.” He said, then continued his conversation, this time in a soft whisper. I was done with the room, but sat waiting for Leo on a stone bench. He rarely appeared to me anymore, so it was usually important, or on holidays. He was the black sheep of his family and wasn’t welcome with them. Leo looked somber. He raised a false, nervous smile. If his toga had pockets, he’d have his hands in them. “Gwen, you know how old Jules was when he was assassinated?” “No.” Leo crossed his arms. “Yeah, uh… neither do I. But see, you’re missing my point. My point is that he did a lot of things when he was alive. Like conquering stuff and sleeping with Cleopatra.” I nodded. “You’re what, twenty already right?” “I’m twenty-nine Leo.” “Well, I usually don’t tell my earthbound assignments when they’re going to die, but Gwen, you’re going to die.” The blood drained from my face. Leo was kinda dumb, downright mean at times, but he never lied to me once, ever. He continued, “This Friday in fact. You walk in front of the T. Orange line at Downtown Crossing. You make the news and everything.” He sat down and put his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry kiddo.” I looked to the floor. Hard wood, polyurethane stained. Circled rings of age swirled in the wood. “Are you sure?” “Well, pretty sure. Two of my peeps are dying this week. You and Akman the Shepherd. One of you gets hit by a train, the other is torn apart by a hungry pack of wild wolves. My guess is you’re the train. Cause you live in a place with trains. And Akman lives in the hills of--“ Leo saw the look on my face. “You’ve got five days Gwen. Do something good.” Leo disappeared as I tried wiping my tears away. The drops came faster than my fingers could clear them. It was evening now, although I had no idea what time. During the course of the afternoon, a few people had come in and out of the room, including a tour of middle school students on a field trip. They all giggled at the mention of the word “bust.” They were soon gone to another room. I had been staring at the floor for four hours. A tall museum guard entered next, taking the dark blue hat off of his head. He kneeled right over in front of the bust of Julius Caesar and began an immediate sobbing. “PLEASE. Give me more time! More time! Don’t punish me! I want a wife and family. I want a house! I want someone to see me, to see me! There’s someone-- to see me. I know there is. I planned a great life for myself! Let me live my plan!” The man buried his face in his hands and cried fitful tears. Then the man began to nod a hollow acceptance, as if he was listening to great advice or wisdom that he just couldn’t follow. I looked closely at Julius Caeser and for a moment, I thought I saw his lips moving. I turned away quickly, my heart beating wildly. So Leo was talking to the real Caesar. But when I looked back, Caesar was inanimate again. I realized this museum guards grief was his own business, and I stood to leave. That’s when I saw Julius wink at me. The guard noticed me for the first time and stood up quickly. “How did you get in here?” He wiped his face dry on the sleeve of his shirt. “I’ve been here for a little while.” “I don’t think so.” “Yes.” “Really,” the man moved closer to me, his tie was tucked into the buttons of his shirt. “Its 3am. How did you get in here, ma’am?” I checked my watch 6:40PM. “Its only-- don’t call me ma’am.” “What should I call you, ‘Breaker and Enterer?’ You’re an art thief.” He grabbed my arm, and shiver went through the both of us, sending tingling up my spine. My skin turned gooseflesh. I could see the same happened to him. Julius Caesar sucked his teeth in disgust. “Your many lives you live would be astounding, if not you had to promise yourselves betrothed, in lives of passed you swore upon hearts pounding, to meet each other in life again for loved.” It was the first thing out of Caesar’s mouth and I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. “What?” “You can hear him too?” The guard had to catch his breath from amazement. The cafeteria was locked up and dark, but Michael, the guard, had keys and flicked the light switches on. So we went in and sat down at a table near French doors that led out to the patio seating area. My watch read 7PM, it was Quartz, but it was the middle of the night, the entire museum was dead empty. I decided the time thing was not a big deal considering I had a guardian angel since birth and spoke with the possessed bust of Julius Caesar only moments earlier. “I like this shift.” Michael said, bringing me a steaming cup of cocoa. “Just me and 20,000 works of art. “Have you ever seen the painting, ‘The Head of Cyrus Brought to Queen Tomyra’?” “Yes.” “I can just look at that for hours. The blood dripping into the bowl. The kids in the background sneaking a peak. The quiet countryside in the background.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate and sighed. “I think I’ve been there.. I think that’s why I look at it all the time.” I nodded silently. Maybe that’s why I loved art. Maybe it was awakening memories that my own eyes never encountered, yet I lived them anyway. “Is your hot cocoa okay? They were doing a lot of electrical work in here today, the coffee machine is broken.” “I’m fine.” “So you can hear Julius Caesar too.” He smiled so real at me, it was a beam of light, a breath of fresh air. I returned the same smile. “First time actually. But I have a guardian angel who talks with him all the time.” Michael just smiled and nodded. “I’m Michael by the way,” he extended his hand for me to shake. “I know, you told me.” “No Gwen, I never told you.” “I never told you my name was Gwen.” His hand was still extended. I took it in mine and gave a gentle squeeze as we shook. Again, the shivers came as my mind was flooded by half-images. They shuffled through like a deck of cards. “We’ve never met.” We said it both at the same time. Our stared connected, and I studied his face, so familiar. I knew every inch of him in my mind, every lash on his eyes, every line on his hand the soft flesh of his earlobes and thighs… I was dreaming. Or so I thought. But Michael brought his hands to his face. “This is so unfair. I thought it was unfair this morning, but now it is even more unfair.” “Maybe we’re already dead.” I actually hoped. “No.” He was so hurt. His eyes, red from crying, teared up again. And I wanted to hold this stranger. I wanted to hold him like I had done a thousand times before and promise to never let him go. “At night I walk the freshly waxed floors and dream about you. At night I count my steps, click by click and wonder where you are. I’ve known all my life. Forever.” I looked down to my lukewarm cocoa, thinking about what Leo told me earlier. I hated Leo for telling me, and yet I was grateful. I always thought I’d spend final days like this tying up my loose ends; buying friends extravagant gifts on credit; giving my sister my enormous shoe collection; making up with my parents. But no, its is this man. Michael. He is why I am here, he is why I have lived for 29 years. And now I have only five days with him. I moved to the French doors, knowing he would follow me. “So this is what soulmates are. I always thought it was someone you had a lot in common with.” Michael moved behind me, his hands moved up my arms and I rested my body back against his. His lips on my neck sent flutters to my heart, and I was overcome with right and goodness. I was finally alive. I even felt my hair and fingernails tingling. His lips continued kissing my neck, again, the feeling was so wonderfully familiar. His hands moved around my side, slowly turning me so that I was now facing him. “Why?” My whisper was interrupted by his kiss. Pure electricity. I kissed back, hoping that there would be many more times like this and knowing there wouldn’t be. Because I was going to die. I pulled far enough back from him to look him in the eye. “You need to know something Michael.” But I kissed him instead, holding him, caressing, grabbing, fondling. And as his pushed our cups of cocoa onto the floor, we swore over and over never to leave each other. Never, ever, ever… The next morning, I sat all alone on the stone bench. Leo appeared and immediately started another conversation with Caesar. I approached them, fists clenched. “I was waiting until you two were together. You think you did us a favor, don’t you.” Tears streamed down my face, staining my wrinkled shirt. Leo said “Yes,” as Caesar said, “No.” “We did what had to be done. You’re the ones who keep promising.” Caesar said. “Your time was growing short Gwen. I have a responsibility to my earthbound clients to have them achieve all their desires before their death.” Leo shrugged sympathetically. “But… but… I was supposed to die, not him.” I shut my eyes hoping to stop the fresh memory from entering my mind. We had been lying on the table, entwined in each other’s arms and legs. But the room was cold. And as contented as we were, I asked him to find us something to cover ourselves. He stood up, and I watched his nude body basked in the moonlight stealing through the French doors. “I don’t know where there’s a blanket around here, but I could turn on the heat.” He crossed the floor, walking through the spilled cocoa-- “We’ll have other chances, right? Like we’ve had before?” My eyes pleaded with them. Caesar nodded. “You’ve had thousands before and you’ll have thousands more.” “Usually you pass each other on the street once or twice a lifetime. Although there was that time that you instinctively called his name while he was robbing a stage coach so he killed you.” Leo seemed to think this was great information. “You mean to say that we’ve never been married and have had babies?” “With your two’s track record, this is pretty good, Gwen. You spent a couple lifetimes with him, but he was your mailman more times than your husband.” Leo replied. “This is pretty good? He died not even an hour after meeting me.” “Okay there, miss half empty.” Caesar chimed in. “Stop your complaining. You met him this time.” Then to Leo, “She’s a real complainer, ha?” “We don’t have all the answers Gwen, I know what I’ve seen in your lifetimes but that’s about all.” “I certainly don’t have answers for you.” Caesar said. “I’m just a bust.” Leo knocked on Julius’ head. “Why do they call you that.” I stood back, letting my misery take hold. How terrible to watch someone die. How terrible to know that you’ve watched them die before. “This may not be a comfort Gwen, but you’ve still got four days left. Now you can spend it painting, or something.” “Painting or something?” “Don’t listen to him, you’ve made your mark on this world.” Caesar tried sounding kindly, but he just looked aggravated at Leo. I moved in close to both of them. I stroked Julius’ cheek. Then, with all my might, I pushed the marble bust onto the floor. Caesar broke his nose. “I’d do the same to you if you weren’t imaginary!” I screamed to Leo. “Hey! You bring this pain and suffering upon yourself Gwen!” Leo got in my face, and if guardian angels could spit when they talked, then Leo would have been.” You are the MOST pathetic assignment I have ever had. Why you would choose to live over and over again is completely insane to me! You should be on the next plane by now!” “Plane?” “Yes… PLANE… OF EXISTENCE!!!!” Leo’s tone made me feel stupid. “You keep making the promises to never be apart!” “Um… can someone pick me up?” Caesar said in a muffled voice, his face to the floor. “You know I can’t Jules.” Leo said. I ignored them both, and made my way out of the Ancient Rome room. I turned back to them, “I’m going home.” I did. In a taxi.
Copyright © 2000 M J Martino |