Текст книги "Hope To Escape"

Автор книги: Jack Parker

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CHAPTER TWO

It took less time than Ess expected to execute an excursion to La Donne on 5th. The next day, in fact, she found herself reluctantly dragged into a taxi van with four of her friends. Manda, of course, was present; Jill and Lisa, too. Beth came to be moral support for her friend who was being forced into something she appeared to dread; but also, out of her own curiosity.

The cab ride from 78th street to 5th avenue would be a long one, and the car reeked badly of cigarette smoke and, what was that? Garlic? Sickening stench. It didn't help Ess's stomach, which already churned because of the oddness of her current situation. She sat in the front seat, and tuned out the excited chatter amongst her friends by pondering her circumstances.

So far, her life had been uneventful. She had always been a quiet girl. Never popular, but never an outsider, she just floated her way through high school without much notice. Afterward, she attended college, and earned a communications degree. She never tapped into a special skill or talent, and had no job offers waiting for her after she finished college. She hunted for work like all the other average people with a standard education and little experience, and found an opportunity with a hospitality company, where she became a project manager. The pay was barely decent for a single girl who didn't live extravagantly, but it got her through from month to month. She unhappily found that she had to be on the telephone seven out of ten hours each day. At first, her shyness made her job difficult, but she did what she had to do, and eventually, became passive to it.

Esther understood her life to be unexceptional. She dreamed of making it more, but lacked the ability and know-how to go about it. So, she waited for change. What kind of change, though, she didn't know.

People probably don't even know just how ordinary and miniscule they are until a life-altering experience occurs. Then, their small lives may become interesting, possibly scary. Ess wondered if she would be able to handle any changes that could disrupt the fragile balance of her existence.

She thought it must be that people who actually did great things were driven. They did things not simply by chance, but by will and by choice. When an event occured in life, they stood on the precipice of life-altering decisions, and had two directions they could go: leap into the unknown, or back away into their small, safe lives. Walking along this precipice only stalled for time and left a person vulnerable to outside forces that could push or pull them in either direction without their consent. They had to act quickly so that the decision could be their own.

And all around, in every direction – regrets! But Ess once heard that more painful were the regrets of what we didn't do in life, than of what we did do.

Ess waited, Ess stalled for time, Ess regretted. She berated and she chided herself for not doing or at least searching for something better in life. She was disappointed, but secure in her unimportant existence.

Her mind wandered and twisted on the subject. At any length, it shortened the cab ride, and distracted her from the smell. They arrived at La Donne on 5th, and the five friends divvied up the cost to the driver.

Ess's recent train of thought left her dejected, and now came a moment that would most likely make her feel worse. Someone out there deemed her worthy to be immortalized in art. She would now have to discover for herself what that meant.

* * *

The interior of La Donne on 5th was an expansive modern minimalist design, with exposed beams, pipes and air ducts, and blue white lighting. Near the entrance there were skylights, but the dreary overcast morning did nothing to add illumination. The walls were high, and painted a uniform shade of pale blue. The only furniture in the room were a few strategically placed white washed cement benches in odd shapes. For all Ess knew, the benches may have been part of the art displays, because there were a fair number of people in the gallery, and no one was sitting on them. Maybe Ess wasn't the only one who questioned if they were really for seating or were part of the artwork.

"The funny thing is," Manda reflected to her friends, "this simple décor probably took the designer months to accomplish." The comment effectively made her friends laugh.

"Okay," started Jill, "Let's see who can spot Essy's mystery man's artwork first."

Oh great, thought Ess, now they were making a game out of it. Better and better. Let's play with Essy's little life. She shuddered, less sure then ever if she wanted to see herself captured forever motionless in stone.

"Oh, oh, oh," cried Lisa, "statues in the rear." Sure enough, multiple stationary bodies were positioned on white pedestals in the back of the room. The four friends rushed towards them, but Ess made her way across the room slowly, her stomach turning in tighter knots with every step that drew her closer.

Her breathing became shallow; and she could feel her heart as it beat in her chest, through her temples, and in the palm of her hands. It was very similar to the feeling she got before, during and after any speeches she had ever been forced to give in high school – or college for that matter. She had never gotten used to it. But now she felt this nervousness from the notion that someone, unbeknownst to her, had modeled a whole collection of art after her.

She didn't look at the statues as she made her way to the display. Instead, she stared at her feet; aware of each step she took. It was silly that this situation made her so uneasy, but nevertheless, her nerves were on end.

Ess couldn't understand why she didn't feel the curious excitement that her friends felt. Who wouldn't be honored to be a subject of some artist's renderings? Who wouldn't be flattered? Oddly enough, Ess had to admit that she felt neither honored nor flattered. What she felt was anxiety. She wasn't used to being noticed, to being the center of attention; and now that she was, she didn't like it. Better to be the observer, than the observed in her opinion.

As she walked on, she knew that, eventually, she would have to look up. When she did, what met her eyes made her shiver. It was her. Or rather, they were her. There were several of them.

The first one was a white chalky plaster-like stone; and the lighting in the gallery made it glow almost incandescent. The figure looked rather angelic. All it lacked was a halo and feathery wings. It showed Ess as a child, and the title "Exquisite Esther" appeared on the sign plate at the statue's foot. The child statue's hands were cupped together and stretched outward, as though it were offering the observer something, but there was nothing in the hollows of its palms. If Ess stood right in front of it, it smiled good-naturedly and looked as though it bestowed its benevolence directly on her. All together, it was magnificent and unsettling.

After a moment, Ess stopped gawking at this peculiar white youth with its familiar features, and turned to the next stone statue. There, once again, her own face stood before her. It was a bust, which extended from just above the line of the breast, slightly larger than her actual head. The figure seemed young, but not a child. The stone looked like pale blue quartz, and lent itself well to the subject of the work. The young adult was weeping, obvious by the gentle touch of its fingers frozen in time as it attempted to wipe a tear from its cheek. Its eyes were closed, and brow slightly furrowed. The faintest pull downward of either end of the mouth conveyed its sorrow. Ess observed it until the gravity of the melancholy seeped into her. She felt as though a tear would well up and fall down her own cheek. "Inconsolable Esther". The grief of the work made her turn away.

She stepped over to the next piece, positioned near a turn that went into a deeper room of the gallery. This one made her smile. It was an adult version of Esther. The fact that the likeness uncannily had her face did not concern her as much, because the hair was long and wavy, where her own was just below shoulder length and chemically straightened to rid her of her bothersome curls. It had been that way for years, so the very idea that the artist may have possibly stalked her and knew what she really looked like didn't seem so likely.

This statue was a full body work, just like the first, but smaller than a true adult. Ess decided that it must be some kind of soapstone. As for the subject of the piece, it seemed . . . pensive? The brows were arched in such a way, and the pointer finger of its right hand was lightly touching its chin, as though it was captured in mid-contemplation. The inscription read "Inquisitive Esther". Ess wasn't sure why, but this one made her giggle a little. She couldn't imagine that she ever really looked like that while in the middle of a thought. She could linger longer at this statue, because it didn't affect her as much as the previous two.

Finally, she moved on to see if there were any others in the collection. Situated around the corner, the last one was a little removed from the rest, so she didn't notice the final theme until she approached it. Upon taking in the sight, Ess exhaled sharply and could not force herself to take in more air. Lounging on a raw unfinished stone slab was an adult Esther in black stone. What sent Ess into stunned distress was the state of the statue. It was naked.

Looking very modest and unsure, it rather unsuccessfully covered its breasts and nether-regions with its hands and arms. It looked down through half closed lids rather than gazing at the observer, ashamed to be witnessed in such a state. Ess didn't know rather she should be embarrassed at seeing herself lifeless in the nude, or if she should be ashamed of spying on the ashamedly naked. Either way, she became dizzy with the situation and her sudden inability to inhale.

Ess felt a hand on her shoulder, to which she responded by re-establishing her breathing, though shallow and quick.

"Ess?" Beth whispered in her ear. Ess didn't regain complete lucidity, but she was able to reduce her focus on the horror in front of her. Beth kept her hand on Ess, and stared at the statue astounded, as well.

After her initial shock, which lasted nearly a minute, Ess came back to herself with a gasp. "Oh, my god" she breathed, "We have to go."

Around her, Ess's friends stood, awestruck amusement on their faces.

"Wow!" Manda exclaimed. She kept her eyes on the nude piece, but slid frequent glances towards Ess to gauge her reaction. It seemed that she found this entertaining.

"We have to go!" Ess restated with as much force as she could muster.

"Why?" Lisa exclaimed. She wasn't being mischievous or devious. She simply didn't understand Ess's feelings under the circumstances.

Jill, however, caught on to Ess's distress. "OK, let's get going," she agreed. "I could really use a coffee."

"What?" Manda affected a fake innocence. "We just got here."

"And now we are done." Jill pushed Manda's shoulder, and grabbed Ess's arm to head towards the door.

Just then, another observer exclaimed, "Whoa. Hey. Is it me, or do you look a lot like the faces on these statues?"

No! Ess thought as the horror of that question stopped her dead in her tracks. This couldn't get any worse. At least, she hoped it couldn't get any worse.

The observer's companion added, "Hey, yeah, she does a bit." Then he turn to ask Ess, half jokingly, "Are you the artist's model?"

"She is, in fact," Manda answered for her. The old adage 'with friends like you, who needs enemies?' popped into Ess's head just then.

The two observers began to direct questions to Ess, which she would not have deigned to answer even if she could actually pay attention. Her mind turned to the exit door. She needed to escape this nightmarish situation.

Hmmm, she thought. She pinched herself, and looked to see if she was standing there in her underwear – just in case it really was only a nightmare. The pinch hurt, and the jeans she slid into that morning were present, so she couldn't have been dreaming. And it didn't matter that she in fact had clothes on, because the statue showed it all off for her anyway.

Although Ess didn't pay attention to the observers' questions, Manda did a good job at answering them for her. "No, she has no idea who the guy is. They met briefly when they were children, and now he carves nude statues of her. Freaky, right?" Manda actually seemed to be flirting with these guys.

"Wow," one of the observers replied, "serious artist fetish. Kinky!" Then he wiggled his eyebrows to emphasize the comment.

Oh, that made Ess's stomach turn in a new direction. Manda talked loud enough now that a few others close by began to look Ess up and down, and one or two joined in the conversation. She looked at Jill, and pleaded desperately with her eyes. Why were they letting these people stall their escape? Jill took the obvious hint, and resumed making their way to the exit.

"Well, it's been fun, but our model needs to go," Jill stated as she wrapped her arm around Ess's. "Other modelly things to do." Lame excuse – stupid even – , but Ess didn't care. She felt extremely grateful to Jill.

They were at last on their way to the front of the gallery, Jill still guiding the embarrassed "model", and Beth taking up Ess's other arm. Lisa followed suit, not wanting to be left behind. Manda didn't excuse herself from her conversation until the others were nearly at the door.

Once outside, Ess finally caught her breath, taking in the cool fresh air of the outdoors. She coughed a little as a rusty old Ford truck passed – maybe the city air was not so fresh. Still, it felt less stifling than the pretentious gallery. While Ess continued to recover from the shock of beholding herself in the nude, Jill led her onwards, sure that there was a café nearby. It was the city's artsy district, after all.

Not too far down the street they found a Starbucks – of course. A misty rain started to descend just before they reached the entrance. The light drops felt good on Ess's face, and helped to bring her out of her agitation. Once inside, Beth sat with her at a table, while Jill and Lisa went to order their drinks with the barrista.

"Ess?" Beth questioned, concern on her face. "Are you alright?"

"I…" Ess really wasn't sure. Was she all right? "I was just. . . extremely surprised." Now that she thought about it, though, and she got over her initial shock, she began to decide differently.

"You know what?" Ess then began in an increasingly upset tone, "I'm not alright." Beth just looked at her with a worried pout on her face. "I'm mad!" she continued then, and Beth raised an eyebrow. Ess getting angry seemed, well . . . rare and unusual. Hell, she put up with Manda better than anyone else; a testimony to her even and easygoing temper. Seeing her angry like this actually raised Beth's apprehension all the more.

Just then Manda, who hadn't caught up to them when they left the gallery, walked through the door. She ended up wet through, because the rain now fell in torrents. Lisa, who had just walked up to the table, laughed audibly at her expense. "Serves you right, doesn't it?"

Manda scowled at her. "Serves me right that my friends left me behind?" she demanded. Then added a retort of "Thanks a lot," as she began squeezing the rain from her hair.

"Thanks a lot?" Jill walked up and set Ess's drink down in front of her. A hot, grande, skinny, French vanilla triple shot latte with no whip. Ess got a slightly warm feeling as she realized her friends knew her so well. Well, some friends anyway. She glared at Manda, and the fuzzy feeling went away.

Before Manda could have a chance to answer Jill with a smart remark, Beth stated, "Manda, you have the biggest mouth I have ever heard. You just don't know when to shut up."

"Don't you chastise me because I'm uninhibited . . ." Manda began in return.

"Uninhibited!?" Ess cried, "Manda, you are inappropriate . . . improper . . . ill-mannered . . ."

The rest of her friends stared at her with the same stunned look Beth had had a moment before when witnessing Ess's anger. Manda, herself, looked as though she was ready to cry, which was no small feat. The manner in which Ess lashed out indicated that she meant what she said, and that struck Manda unlike any insult she had ever received in her life.

They were drawing the attention of other customers with this display, so the women grabbed some adjacent chairs and crowded around the small table. Manda became not only silent, but also withdrawn. Ess noticed this, and the guilt started to gnaw at her, not enough to draw an apology yet, though. She still felt too upset about what she had just seen at the gallery.

Lisa was the first one to re-establish the conversation. She cleared her throat. "Well," she looked around the table, "That was some exhibit, huh?" Jill rolled her eyes at her, and Lisa just shrugged.

"We have to get rid of it," Ess said suddenly. "All of them." She amended. This caused another round of raised eyebrows from the young woman's friends. "There's got to be something I can do."

They began to think on it. "Maybe," suggested Jill, "You could complain to the gallery."

"Yeah," agreed Beth, "Maybe you could tell them you do not want your statues on display. You didn't give permission to use yourself as a model."

"They won't go for that," Manda said quietly, obviously a little wary of speaking. Jill prompted her to continue, so she did, "The statues may look like her, but she can't prove that they are meant to be her, unless the artist states that they are. They were dedicated to an 'Esther' – no last name. It would be seen as a coincidence only."

"Are you sure?" Lisa questioned, "It seems pretty obvious."

"I'm sure," Manda replied, "Who's the paralegal here? Besides," she added, "You've seen those silly newspaper articles. Can't you just see the caption? 'Scandalized Woman Loses Court Case Over Impermissible Viewing of Naked Keaster in Art Gallery'. Then, it would go on to state that she accused the gallery of displaying a statue that looked like her, and the judge would laugh and declare that the next case would be about a crazy man who wanted the Statue of Liberty removed from the harbor in New York, because it reminded him of his mother-in-law."

Ess smiled slightly despite herself. Manda caught the smile and relaxed a little. At least, Ess couldn't stay mad enough to scowl at her for long. They thought in silence a little longer.

Then Ess had an idea, "Maybe I could buy them." She looked hopefully at the others for input.

"I don't know," replied Beth, "I don't know a lot about art, but isn't it usually pretty expensive? I mean, it was in a nice upscale gallery, after all. Do you really think you can afford it?"

The hope on Ess's face faded. "I don't know. Probably not. But it doesn't hurt to find out." The others just shrugged. "Well, does anyone else have any better ideas?"

Lisa piped up, "We could break in during the middle of the night – all of us dressed in black, scaling from the skylights – and just smash the statues to bits with crowbars!?!"

"Okay. Anybody else have any better ideas?" Ess said again, ignoring her friend's inane plan. The others laughed, however, and Ess had to admit it did break the ice that was chilling her insides at that point. Besides, it really did sound like a good plan, if not inappropriate and unlikely.

CHAPTER THREE

The Labor Day holiday seemed to last forever. Ess had looked forward to it the whole week prior, until the statue fiasco on Saturday. Manda promised to call the gallery the next day on Ess's behalf, but learned that it was closed on Sunday and Monday in observance of the holiday. So, the wait for Tuesday became excruciating.

She went straight home after Starbucks, and didn't plan to venture out again until she had to go back to work. Unfortunately, she was out of milk – and eggs, bread, mayo and most other food products, including the all-important ice cream. That meant that she had to leave her apartment and walk to the corner market two blocks away. Normally, she enjoyed this errand. An opportunity to get out, take a walk, be neighborly. It had been a routine of living in the city; and it made her feel grown-up and metropolitan.

This time, however, going out into public happened to be uncomfortable. She felt as though everyone she passed looked at her oddly. It seemed as if they were aware that there was a stone statue of her naked body out there for the world to see. Who knew who might have seen it? It was unlikely that her 78th street neighborhood traveled down to 5th avenue on a regular basis, but not impossible.

Ess just felt exposed. Rather or not the people she passed had seen it, the idea that they could in fact see it, rankled her. She felt self-conscious and a little debased.

So, after she returned to her apartment from her uneasy trip to the store, she barricaded herself into her little home for the remainder of the weekend. She even screened her phone calls, and really didn't want to talk to anyone.

Tuesday finally rolled around, and Ess left for her job extra early, so that she wouldn't have to linger at the office finishing her work after hours; and could make it home in time to listen to Manda attempt to deal with the La Donne on 5th gallery for possession of those atrocities with her face. And it was only her face, she reminded herself once again. That naked body was so not her.

Actually, it appeared more slender and graceful than her – but that wasn't the point. The point was that some guy thought of her naked, and made it a stone reality. Then, he had the audacity to display it for the whole world to see. Anger flared up in her every time she thought of it. That bad man. That dirty man!

Ess sat on the couch, hands clasped and white knuckled, waiting while Manda worked her magical no-nonsense bullshit on the phone. Manda, albeit she was Ess's polar opposite in attitude and street smarts, had been her best friend since they met in their first year of college. They were oil and water, but it worked for them. Manda always attracted the guys, and Ess always provided a listening ear and relationship advice.

The tall, beautiful dark blonde boasted her bargaining skills quite often, and frequently mentioned one of her greatest accomplishments. She came back from Cancun once (where she had dumped a former boyfriend) with a beautiful silver necklace adorned with fire agate gemstones, which she claimed to 'pay pennies-on-the-dollar for'. Manda gifted it to Ess, because she knew it would go so well with her eyes; and Manda mentioned the 'once-in-a-lifetime deal' every time Ess wore it.

This current negotiation with the art gallery, though, wasn't going so well.

"Oh really? Well, who is this buyer?" Manda demanded in what Ess called her 'patented Manda tone'. "Well, maybe I want to counter the offer. How much did this guy propose?"

Oh, no, Ess thought, someone else was actually interested in the statues.

"What?" cried Manda, "Is the guy insane? Michelangelo's David isn't worth that much!"

Ess knew this had to be bad.

After a moment Manda spoke again, "The David is priceless? Whatever. Everything has a price." She paused, and then, "Yes, I am done with you. Thanks for nothing." She pressed the off button on the phone as hard as she could. Then, she turned to Ess with a look of mingled anger and apology.

"Well?" asked Ess. She heard Manda's half of the conversation, and the outcome seemed obvious, but she still clung to a tiny thread of hope until Manda's answer could cut it once and for all.

"Ridiculous!" cried Manda, "You wouldn't believe it. There's this collector who has a 'keen interest in this artists works'." She used the double finger quote gesture to emphasize the words of the person on the phone. "Apparently this guy has a large private collection already and pays good money for them."

"Private collection?" Ess replied. This had pros and cons. On the one hand, some guy would have her effigies in his house where he could look at them freely all he wanted; but on the other hand, at least they wouldn't be available for public viewing. Better one or two sets of eyes than hundreds or thousands.

"Yeah," continued Manda, "I don't know who's more sick and demented: an obsessive artist who sculpts naked obscenities of a girl he met twenty years ago, or a man that collects the art of an obsessive artist who sculpts naked obscenities of a girl he met twenty years ago."

"So," queried Ess, "How much did this guy offer for the sculptures?" She was just curious. Maybe she could still counter the offer. Maybe Manda was just being cheap.

"You wouldn't believe it," replied Manda.

"Try me?" Ess's face contorted into worried hope. That thread hadn't quite been cut yet.

"More than you make in a year." Manda retorted. Then seeing the ashen look on Ess's face, she continued more gently, "Eighty grand for all four statues. According to the guy on the phone, the artist stipulated that they must be purchased as a single collection if they were to be sold at all. So even if you took out a loan for twenty thousand dollars for just the nude one, he wouldn't sell it to you."

Snap went that imaginary thread. Ess looked defeated. They were definitely out of her league. It sucked to be poor. Not that she could actually be defined as poor, but her means of living were kept relatively small in the excess spending department.

"But," Manda sought to lift her friend's spirits if she could, "The gallery said that the buyer had driven a hard bargain just to get the works. The artist hadn't been readily willing to part with them. The guy paid premium. At least you know you're worth a lot of money."

"Great," Ess said at that, "I sound like a hooker."

Manda looked shocked. "You know that's not what I meant!"

"I know," Ess laughed, "But it was funny. Besides, sick and demented artists have to eat, too."

Manda laughed, in turn. "With that price tag, the guy will be eating fillet mignon for a year. Starving artist, my ass."

Suddenly, Ess began to feel a little bit better. Just knowing that the statue was going to be locked away in a private collection, and being able to joke about the whole ordeal began to ease her concern. This had to be the right path to getting over it.

"You know what?" Ess stated. "I feel like going out to dinner. What do you think?"

This sounded like good news to Manda. Her friend was coming back around. "Sounds great. What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know." Ess thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Do you think Denny's has filet mignon?"

Manda snorted at that, which made them both laugh. Laughter really is good medicine, Ess thought, as she grabbed her jacket and slid back into her shoes.