CHAPTER TWO
MUSEUM OF MODERN ART...
Neal Caffrey, dressed in his usual attire of Devore suit and fedora hat, excitedly looked around the museum. He loved almost all forms of art, and was always delighted to be inside any institution that houses a collection of objects that are of artistic and historical importance. Being a man who appreciates the arts, he enjoyed being there, viewing the exhibits. It doesn't happen as often as he would like, especially as of late. He only has a chance to view exhibits mostly when working on cases with Special Agent Peter Burke.
He remembered the reason why he was there that day. The FBI, namely, him and Peter, along with Agents Diana Barrigan and Clinton Jones, have recently recovered a stolen Picasso painting. Pablo Picasso's "Girl Before A Mirror", an oil painting valued to be at least $100 million, was stolen during a MoMA exhibit less than a few week ago. Peter was there, on behalf of the FBI, to personally return the painting to the Museum Director, Glenn D. Lowry. Of course, the painting was insured under Sterling Bosch, so naturally, Sara Ellis was also there to oversee the transaction.
While Peter and Sara were on a meeting with Director Lowry, Neal and Diana were free to roam around the museum. Diana was on the sixth floor's special exhibition gallery, looking at the "Van Gogh and the Colors of the Night" exhibit. Meanwhile, Neal was on his way to the third floor to see the Norman Rockwell exhibition.
Neal walked around the gallery, looking at the famous illustrator's art work. As he strolled over to the "Willie Gillis" section of the exhibit, he saw a little boy that he recognized. It was Caleb, Hale's grandson. The little boy keenly looked at the Willie Gillis paintings. There was one specific painting that the kid paid strict attention to. Caleb stared intently at "Willie Gillis In Convoy", a depiction of the Norman Rockwell character close to the battlefield. A soldier in the back of a military truck with a rifle in his hand.
Neal recalled hearing something from Mozzie about the Hale's son, Luther, being killed in action recently in Afghanistan. He remembered Luther in the past, as he was constantly warning Neal to stay away from Alex. Luther was a good man, he had a good heart. He didn't deserve to die so young. Neal looked at Caleb, the pain and sadness visible on the kid's eyes, and he felt sorry for him. He approached him to offer his condolences.
"Hey there, Caleb. Remember me?" Neal asked.
Caleb looked at him. "Yeah, you're grandpa's friend, Mr. Caffrey." he answered.
"Please, call me Neal." he said. "Is your grandpa here with you?" Neal asked.
"No sir, I'm here with a friend." Caleb politely replied, as he continued to look at the painting.
There was silence for a moment, then Neal spoke. "Listen, I'm sorry to hear about your dad. I knew him, he was a good man." he told the boy.
"Why do people always say that?" Caleb asked. "I'm sorry for your loss...I'm sorry for what you're going through...I'm sorry your father died! I get it! You're sorry! You think that makes me feel better? Well, it doesn't! You feeling sorry doesn't bring my dad back!" the little boy angrily snapped.
"Hey, hey." Neal said, as he moved closer to comfort the child. "It's hard, I know. I didn't mean to upset you anymore than you already are." he explained as he handed a handkerchief to the weeping child. "Look, I know that whatever I say right now is not going to make you feel any better about losing your dad, but I'm right here if you need to talk to someone." he told him.
"Thank you, sir. But if it's all the same to you, I'd rather be left alone right now." Caleb said before he walked away.
Neal watched Caleb until he disappeared into the crowd. He shook his head. "Sometimes, the world could be blatantly unfair to the good people." he thought. He then turned around and proceeded to join Diana on the sixth floor.
Neal found Diana at the special exhibition gallery, a huge smile plastered on her face. She wasn't exactly looking at the paintings. Instead, she was watching the little kids who were on a field trip, roaming the gallery. Neal chuckled. It was very rare that he get to see Diana with a happy expression on her face. She was always so serious.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself." he remarked.
"Oh, just look at them Neal! They're so cute!" she said
"Thinking of having one of your own someday?" Neal asked.
"Christie and I have talked about it. We both agreed that we're not ready yet. But yes, eventually, we would like to have children someday." Diana answered. She continued to look at the kids in the gallery. There was one particular kid that caught her eye. "Neal, look at that kid over there." She pointed at the little boy in the corner.
Neal followed the direction she was pointing at. He saw a little boy sitting on the floor, his backpack in disarray beside him. The kid had a sketch pad and colored pencils in his hand, looking alternately between the paper and the painting. The little boy, probably no more than six years old, was trying to copy one of Vincent Van Gogh's painting, "The Starry Night".
"I used to do that!" Neal told Diana. "When I was a kid, I used to sit down on gallery floors, while looking at paintings and trying to copy them." he said with a laugh.
"Oh, so you mean that this kid could potentially be a master forger when he grows up? That's comforting to know!" Diana quipped.
"Or he could be the next best artist of his generation! You never know!" Neal said. "Hold on, I have to meet this kid. Maybe I could get an autograph!" Neal joked, as he walked over to where the little boy was.
Neal approached the little boy and observed him. At closer look, he noticed that the kid looked familiar. He couldn't place it, but he felt that he knew the kid from before. As he watched the kid attentively, he noticed more similarities between the two of them. The little boy had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes and dimples just like him. He furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lower lip the same way Neal did when he focuses his concentration on something.
Neal chalked it all up to nostalgia. He remembered the life he dreamed of having when he was with Kate. He fondly recalled wanting to have children with his dearly departed girlfriend. Sadly, it wasn't meant to be. "Maybe someday, once I find the right woman." he told himself, as he moved closer to the kid.
"Hi there!" Neal greeted the kid with a smile, as he sat down on the floor, next to him. The boy merely ignored him.
Neal continued. "You're a pretty good artist!" Neal remarked, after seeing the boy's work. It was true. Neal had never seen a better copy of "The Starry Night", especially one that was done using only colored pencils. The boy continued to ignore him.
"Not very friendly, are you?" Neal commented.
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, mister! How do I know that you're not a paedo?" the little boy asked, without looking at Neal.
"I'm not a paedo! I'm with the FBI!" Neal said. "My name is Neal Caffrey. There, I'm not a stranger anymore!" Neal introduced himself. "How about you? What's your name?" he asked the kid.
The little boy stared at him, reluctant to say anything at first. "My name is Nicholas." he finally answered. He looked at Neal and smiled. "Nice hat, Neal Caffrey!" he said.
Neal saw him smile, and it tugged at his heart. He can't explain it, but something about the boy stirred things up inside of him. "Nicholas." he said, letting the name roll off his tongue. "That's a very nice name you have, Nicholas." he told him. "Nicholas what, if I may ask?" he continued.
"Just Nicholas!" the boy teased. "You know, like Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Leonardo!" he said.
"The Renaissance artists?" Neal asked, impressed by the boy's knowledge of art.
"No...the Ninja Turtles!" Nicholas replied sarcastically. "Yes...the Renaissance artists!" he answered with a laugh, as he continued with his drawing.
"How come you know about art so much at such a very young age?" Neal asked, not exactly hiding his admiration.
"Most children listen to bedtime stories prior to sleep. I have art history lessons." Nicholas informed him, still continuing his drawing.
Neal continued to watch Nicholas. "You know, if you sketch the key structures of the figure before describing the contour, you'd have more elegantly descriptive lines." Neal instructed the boy.
"My lines are just fine...thank you very much!" Nicholas contradicted. "What do you know about drawing anyway?" he asked Neal, as if challenging him.
"Oh, give me a sketch pad and a pencil and I'll show you!" Neal said, accepting the little boy's challenge.
Together, the two sat down in silence, while drawing the Van Gogh painting. One trying to outdo the other as if they were in a contest. They'd look at each other every once in a while and laugh, as they bonded over their love of art.
Meanwhile, Caleb continued to walk around the Rockwell exhibit. He just roamed around aimlessly, as he tried to no avail, to forget about his grief. He was too caught up in memories that he didn't notice that someone was watching him.
Not too far away, Lenore Morgan stood in the corner observing his little nephew. She was angry at first when she found out that Caleb had sneaked out of the house, and more so, he took little Nicholas with him. But once she saw Caleb, her anger disappeared and was replaced with sympathy. Everyone had been so busy trying to manage their own grief that they forgot about the little boy who needed them.
"Caleb..." she began after she approached the little boy. "Hey...I'm here, if you need anything...I'm right here." she told him.
"Am I in trouble?" Caleb asked.
"No. Don't worry, I didn't tell your mom that you sneaked out." Lenore answered.
"Thanks, Auntie Lenore." he said. "How did you know I was here?" he asked.
"Well, I knew how much you and your dad loved this place, so naturally, I knew that you'd come here." she replied.
"I thought that I'd feel better once I'm here. I thought that Dad's spirit would be here somehow, but he's not here. And I don't feel better!" he cried as he hugged his aunt. "Can we go home now, please?" he pleaded.
"Alright...let's go find Nicholas and then we'll go home, okay?" she said as they proceeded to look for little Nicholas.
Back at the Van Gogh exhibit, Neal and Nicholas were almost done with their drawings. They chatted and laughed as they put finishing touches to their sketches.
"So tell me, Nicholas, why do you like this particular piece." Neal asked him.
"This painting has always calmed me down, ever since I was a baby." Nicholas answered. "I loved it so much, my Mama had my Uncle Jakob paint a replica on the ceiling of my bedroom back home. I miss home!" he said sadly.
Upon hearing this, Neal drew the wrong conclusion. "Your Mama...how did she die?" he asked.
"What? She's not dead! Take that back! You shouldn't put something like that out into the universe!" Nicholas cried.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry! I was wrong!" Neal apologized.
"I'm sorry too." Nicholas said. "It's just that, she got hurt recently and I just got her back. I don't want to lose her again." he explained.
Neal simply nodded his head. He then noticed that the other children from the field trip were gone. "Nicholas, did you come here by yourself?" Neal asked.
"Mr. Caffrey...I'm six years old! Do you really think I would be here all on my own?" Nicholas retorted. "There...all done!" he said, referring to his drawing.
"I was done ten minutes ago!" Neal bragged, showing him his sketch.
They looked at each others' works and were both impressed. The look of mutual admiration and respect were visible on their faces.
"You did good, kid!" Neal praised him.
"C'est magnifique!" [It's magnificent!] Nicholas exclaimed.
"Oh, you speak French too!" Neal said. Another thing that impressed him about the young boy.
"Oui, monsieur!" [Yes, sir!] Nicholas answered.
"Ah! Comment très bon" [Ah! How great!] Neal complimented.
They laughed and exchanged each others' drawings as a gift. Neal told Nicholas to put his initials on the sketch, just like he did on his. Nicholas did as he was told and wrote "NH" on the corner of his drawing. Neal saw this, and was curious, but quickly dismissed it. He took Nicholas' drawing and put it in his breast pocket. Nicholas put Neal's sketch inside his backpack. Neal then stood up brushed the dirt off his trousers.
"Come on, let's find your friends." he told Nicholas. "Allons-y!" [Let's go!] he said as he pulled the boy up to his feet.
"Oui, mais pas si nous allons vers un cauchemar!" [Yes, but not if we're headed towards a nightmare!] Nicholas answered playfully.
Neal stopped in his tracks. What Nicholas said sounded so oddly familiar. He was sure he had heard it before, he just couldn't remember where from. Yet another thing that bothered him. Why does everything about this child seem so familiar to me? he asked himself. Suddenly, a female voice from behind him broke him out of his thoughts.
"Nicholas! There you are!" Lenore called the kid. She tried to hide her shock when she saw that Neal Caffrey was with the little boy.
"Lenore." Neal said. "You know this kid?" he asked her.
"Yes. He's the son of a family friend. They're in town for Luther's funeral." she answered. It wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't entirely a lie.
"I heard about what happened. Please give your family my sincere condolences." Neal said in a somber tone.
"Thank you. I'll do that." she told him. She turned to Nicholas. "Let's go, Nicholas. We have to go now!" she said to the boy.
Nicholas got his backpack and went with Lenore and Caleb as they proceeded to leave the gallery. He stopped and looked back at Neal and smiled. "Monsieur Caffrey...à bientôt!" [ Mr. Caffrey...see you soon!] he said as he waved.
"Au revoir, Nicholas!" [Bye, Nicholas!] Neal replied.
Neal followed the child with his eyes until they disappeared into the crowd. He wondered who the little boy's parents were. If they were friends of Hale's, then surely they must be from the "business" as well. He was interrupted from his musings by Peter's voice.
"There you are!" Peter said. Diana and Sara were right behind him.
"Here I am!" Neal joked. "As if I could stray too far away from you, Peter!" he said while pointing to his tracking anklet. "Everything all done?" he asked.
"Yes. We have Director Lowry's deepest gratitude for recovering the Picasso!" Peter informed him. "We can go now!" Peter said.
"Actually, I was wondering if I could take Neal out to lunch?" Sara asked Peter.
"If it's fine by him!" Peter told Sara. "Let's go Diana." he said as they walked away, leaving the two alone.
"How about it, Neal? My treat." Sara asked him.
"A true gentleman never lets the lady pay!" Neal answered.
"Like I said...my treat!" Sara quipped.
"Oh! You wound me deeply!" Neal replied, as he accompanied Sara and they headed out the door.
~END OF CHAPTER TWO~
Footnotes :
*Willie Gillis is a fictional private in a series of World War II Norman Rockwell's paintings.
*I worked under the assumption that Diana and Christie are in a committed relationship.
*Nicholas' "Uncle Jakob" is Alex and Aretha's friend. [Budapest]
*Of course Nicholas speaks French...just like his father!
*Lenore knows the truth about Nicholas' parentage.
*Show of hands...how many of you were screaming "He's your son, you stupid, stupid man!" *raises hand*. Sorry, I had to write it that Neal is abso-freakin-lutely clueless that he fathered a child with Alex.
*Thank you for taking time to read this chapter! If you like it, please feel free to leave a comment!