The Painter
Aiden stumbled in over the doorstep and recovered like a reed in the breeze. He had been so nervous reaching for madame Benoit's hand that he stepped before he looked. "Welcome dear boy, not much trouble coming over?" the warmth of her voice washed away his fluttering heart and he responded "No, none" with strange confidence. "Wonderful! We'll she's in the drawing room expecting you." Aiden made careful measures to place his hat and boots in a suitable place by the sofa. As he strode into the room adorned with french carved chairs and gold-leafed lanterns the sun had made a spotlight upon the centre through the large central window facing the country hills. And in the centre was the object of his interest, in her pale green gown she sat chin up at her easel as if plucked from a play, turning around attentively to the sound of new footsteps her eyes glowed on him. Turning from her position his ardent pomp she got up from her passion and exclaimed "Aiden!" she threw her arms around his neck with a hug before a chance to brace himself. She smelled like summer and aliens flowers, her warmth radiating beneath her gown struck him as lightning. Before he could comprehend his own reaction she pulled away with a smile "I must show you my paintings!" as she grabbed his larger hands to tug him along as if he were her pet, and he allowing it in pleasant stupefaction. "Of course, I'd be delighted." "Oh no you can't look here, this isn't finished, let me see..." he took her task silence to mark his compliment "your sunsets there are very beautiful, the way the yellow fades into orange..." he was met with busy silence "Ah here!" lift by her left arm, and he reacting with palms holding what he was just seeing "Oh!" analysis held the room. It was painting of the government building in midday, with its Roman columns and pediment, filled with figures of mytho-history. It WAS impressive, even the sky had light clouds added in uncommon places adding to its realism. He became aware of her approving gaze hovering on his right shoulder. Trying not to turn his whole head "Well its very nice, the detail of the figures is really something" he was taking another look when the painting lifted itself flawlessly out of his hands by her small pale arms "I knew you'd be impressed, it was such a clear day" she said without looking back, heading to fetch another. Aiden feeling further under a certain control and not wanting silence as she shuffled around retorted "You know Sophia you've definitely improved, I remember when you had tried doing your fist sun" the memory let a laugh out "it looked more like a lemon!" he laugh bounced off silence, nervous he made offence until a few seconds she broke from her spell of business with "Aha!" and a new painting in hand. She draped it over her pelvis, backwards and head tilted down coyly said "now for this one you must close your eyes." Aiden without thought did as asked. He felt her figure motion forward. Seconds passed, he wondered if she was about to trick him, it wouldn't be outside her nature. "Alight have a look." Opening he was met with a middle aged stern fat-faced man looking back at him as he clicked into his memory he let out an astonished breath and laugh. It was a portrait of Count Beredeaux, as lifelike as a reasonable painting could be. "Now Sophia! This is really something!" Aiden continued to glow in astonishment and humour. Sophia slowly pointed to the middle of the face and whispered "I think I made his nose too fat." as they chuckled Aiden disagreed as Beredeaux was already fat as it is. "Really Sophia, you could make a fair earning with this." This time Sophia left the portrait in the soldier's hands as she talked about the work and possibility of financing portraits. Aiden was so enthralled he allowed the intimacy of the duke's pudgy face until he politely placed him onto the cabinet beside him, all the while Sophia chatted away as if the world owed her. "But I don't think farmers fancy having a portrait, only room for the Lord in their home" she said as she casual walked over to pick up the count and place him in her right spot.
Aiden stood in awkward place until Sophia had sat down naturally and regarding his tall stature for a moment "Well come, have a seat there." Motioning to the stool a few feet away. As Aiden sat down Sophia turned her attention back to her work. She asked with inspective passion "So papa tells me you may be deployed soon?" Aiden looked down and up as he described the many listings, postings, banal and silly coordination of the lieutenants rallying logistics and compromising their own deadlines. We might be deployed to Turkey if the Russians take the Black Sea port, oh Turkey I see, the conversation passed between a nervous passionate man and an aloof comfortable young woman. Aiden was appreciating how her hair had been done up in a bun and were matted against the back of her neck when she broke from her work to look at him seriously. "Do you know how long you'll be gone?" Aiden paused "8 months, at the minimum, if we get called that is". She had already turned back to her painting "Will you have to kill anyone?" Aiden looked down while smiling innocently "Well that IS if we're called." He lifted up his shoulders "But that's what we are trained to do." he said with a reassuring smile. Sophia let her face remain neutral like water. She finally said with bluntness "Its all very strange, to fight in a foreign land." "It is!" laughed Aiden. Another pause. "I'd prefer if you didn't go." Aiden smiled more "And then what kind of man would everyone make me out to be, even your father is enrolled!" Sophia continued painting robotically. With blandness "The Lord will protect you..." "Of course!" said Aiden expectantly. Sophia took a few more absent seconds looking at her work then turning to Aiden "Well, what do you think?" It was the garden in front of them with the rolling hills in sunshine, despite it being late afternoon it held a midday mood from earlier. "Why that's amazing! Its like looking at the past!" his enthusiasm for hills made Sophia chuckle "I suppose so, I need to finish this tree here on the hill, I don't think I have the right shades for it." Aiden reassured her "Well its almost done and I like it, you've captured that light and time perfectly! I'd love to take it with me on my deployment." Aiden laughed as Sophia lightly chided "Yes, I suppose I've stolen the light and time from these country hills." "Even God would be jealous of that." Sophia smiled, satisfied with the conversation. "Perhaps one day, I'll paint your portrait." she said while turning her legs toward Aiden, who was already hunched forward. "A mere corporal? Well I won't ever say no." Sophia took a moment looking at him, then the floor and slowly "You know, mama has been saying I should begin thinking about marriage, now that I'm sixteen." she placed her hands quietly in her lap as Aiden felt frozen with the serious shift "And I've received a few offers from the glassing guild's son and Jacques who became a professor of sciences at the university." the first name put a cold shadow over Aiden's heart and his eyes stilled under his curly hair "I've not said yes to them of course, we don't have that much money and mama said I can choose but I really don't want either of them or to be married now anyway." she paused as Aiden's throat seemed to stop "You know... I just..." her voice trembled and Aiden put out his hand which she took, she looked up with watery eyes into his, making him fortify his gaze with confidence, she squeezed his hand "My father is being deployed, we got the letter yesterday" Aiden looked down "oh, I see... then..." she squeezed his hand to return his attention "Will you only be gone 8 months" Aiden finally felt the weight of her words, her 8 months was iron eternity, an encroachable barrier, as he then realized, to him. He placed his other hand over her small pitiful one and with utmost seriousness "However long, I will come back to you." then realizing the seriousness of what he had just committed to he adjusted his posture. Sophia still clasping his hand looked down. He added "And no matter what your mother thinks about me, I will take you with me anywhere." with a stern gaze. Sophia lifted her head now wearing a weak smile with her watery eyes. She silently turned and picked up a brush while flipping over his hand. With only water she made the shape of the cross in his palm, the sensation tickled. "You will be safe" she repeated 3 times as she marked a new cross over the old. She looked up at his true face. He barley spoke "I love you." She held his hand less sternly and lead it to her cheek, it brushed against it for a moment before she brought it to her lips and gently kissed his knuckles. She placed his hand down "Come back to me." Aiden fill with delirious heartbeat and devotion "Of course." They were held in place like statues where time seemed to stop until sounds from the other room slowly broke them out of the trance. Aiden felt like his whole body had been imbued with a divine mission, that every cell in his body now existed to secure Sophia's happiness, the rest of the world was nothing, and took off to the Bosporus with a fire filled purpose to fight through the shores of hell and come back even if angels should bar his way. That afternoon of the sunlit promise lived as a permanent fixture in Aiden's mind.
That was 1 year ago. He was now surrounded by mud, bayonets, and bandages, screams and furious orders filled the sky with gunpowder as if the sin of the earth was trying to float up into heaven. Like all men who are ever born, Aiden realized war was not like he anticipated. He rarely slept well, the rations were horrendous, and the mixed up orders from egoist marshals did nothing to help. The Russ had taken up a position on the ridge and the last two assaults had ended with canon fire and broken platoons. The soldiers were milling about awaiting which incompetent lieutenant's plan would be put into effect next when Mr. Benoit passed by Aiden on a stretcher. He had been hit in the leg and howling how he'd kill every last Russ on earth with his bare hands. The next day Aiden had leave and took it to go visit him in the hospital "Ah Aiden, my boy!" he said while smiling through the pain "Come to see this poor lion." as he shifted upright against his pillow. Aiden smiled through his grimace, seeing the dark pile of bandages "A lion and lion eater." Mr. Benoit held his laughter for a moment at the strange but welcome comment. "Well now, I'm not sure if this war is over for me, but you seem fit and ready, you must kill twice as many for my sake!" Aiden sat down on the uncomfortable chair beside the bed. "God-willing, Maurice" he replied half-hearted. "You know I don't know how got in this mess" Maurice started "Away from our holy fields of green, the damned port that all Europe wants to shut down or own, we ought to sink it all or dry the Black Sea!" Aiden chimed in "Maybe Pelliot could help, he seems thirsty enough." Indeed corporal Pelliot had been named the 'Drunk Monk' for receiving another soldier's wine ration and guzzling it in one sitting without checking and the other soldier had made a yelling show out it. Telling the balding Pelliot to return to his abbey and that the war is no place for a drunk monk. The stupid rage had been the only highlight since coming into Turkey, as many of the logistics seemed discoordinated and supplies missing along with the array of European allies and language barriers. They had all arrived like half-hearted aimless Achaeans. Maurice Benoit had a good laugh at another Pelliot joke, he laughed so hard his weathered face began to turn red in pain as he clutched his wounded side. Sweating he said "You know we may be in hell, but you can see heaven if you have the right mind." Aiden nodded back. "Have you got any letters my boy?" Aiden replied "Yes, just the usual from my mother, she sent some sugar and tobacco." Maurice smiled "Ah! That's just the stuff! I tell you I've never missed my wife's stew in all these years. I'd trade a birthright for a bowl of it." Aiden examined the bandages. Maurice winced "Ah they say its not good, mind you the doctor was only speaking in English so who knows but even if I lose my leg I'll still hold my rifle." Aiden felt a sense of guilt for not suffering with his neighbour. Diverting "Have you received anything?" Maurice looked at him directly "Ah yes, actually, my wife writes she is terribly worried and sick of me bring away which is not new..." Aiden held his gaze hoping for the obvious, he took in his matted mustache, glowing blue eyes, and the epaulet coat hanging around his hospital white shirt shoulders "I just got a letter about Sophia actually." Aiden listened more as Maurice bluntly stated "She has come down with consumption." Aiden wasn't sure what to feel, but the tone and stare of his comrade were enough to make his blood cold. "They've taken her to the doctors, but many people back home have come down with it, so its not unusual" Aiden could only listen, Maurice started again "You know, out here away from the home doesn't feel real, none of it does, but seeing you my boy." He smiles "You remind me of home. You know... if I don't make it out of here." Aiden tried to speak but couldn't "I want you to take care of Eileen and Sophia. I know she has all these ideas about rich barons and statesmen to have her betrothed to but I know my girl, and I know you." "Sir, I-" "Listen I don't care about the son of some fancy snuff-smelling merchant, I've seen how Sophia looks at you, I'm old but not stupid." "You know me and Sophia we've talked" Maurice interjected "Oh I bet your have, and I know what my wife will say but I'll say it anyway, you have my blessing to make my daughter happy, don't worry or stand on ceremony that girl is more stubborn than her mother and I won't abandon her feelings." he leaned in "And frankly, it could be much worse." he concluded by slapping Aiden's shoulder and winking, causing an animated reaction "Hey! Who ran to grab the extra ammo crates when we ran low!" Maurice only recoiled in laughter, checked by pain. Aiden's laugh turned blue seeing his friend's state. Maurice rejoined with a pained light "Listen, we'll all fix this when the storm has passed, no?"
That was the last time Aiden saw Maurice, as he was hearing Benoit listed off as the list of casualties and wooden boxes carried by the dozens on an overcast afternoon in a foreign land. There was some more battles, mostly running supplies from one area to another, correcting who needed what, getting yelled at in multiple languages because he had brought too much or too little. One day an order had been cancelled by the Italian division in another town, and feeling exhausted Aiden found an abandoned barn to sleep the afternoon away. It was then when he dreamed of home, he was in the house he grew up in but there were no windows and outside he could see the barracks he trained at. Maurice was there drinking and dancing with his bloody leg and he could hear someone crying upstairs. He went up holding onto the railing only to then be in a church he didn't recognize, it seemed protestant. It was all white inside, white walls, white curtains, white pews. He sat down and suddenly was wearing his military clothes which was embarrassing because everyone else was normally dressed. He had been barely listening to the sermon but when he looked up he saw the preacher was some kind of homeless man asking for food but behind him was Sophia! She looked right at me and suddenly appearing beside me she said "You're not supposed to be here". I could feel the others looking at me. I looked out the window and saw her house, I looked back and she smiled sweetly. I tried to say something but nothing came out. She handed me her painting, but it was blank. I woke up, ravenous and short breath, fully remembering that day in the drawing room, wanting to cry.
Aiden became determined to get back to France, have himself get shot if he had to, he had to get back. It was 2 weeks later a cease fire was announced, the ensuing treaties would end the war. Aiden had little care for any of it only that they had won and Maurice hadn't died for nothing. He made his way back to France to do as he promised and protect the family, and to wed Sophia. He had settled his things, talked to his parents, his mother kissed and hugged him, his father almost cried and did the same, his brothers were at school but dying to speak to him. "Well I'll leave my stuff here but I must go to Sophia's house" Aiden's parents stood back with silence, holding something painful in their hearts. "What?..." His mother turned to his father "I'm sorry son but Sophia" he paused "Sophia came down with consumption and her condition didn't improve... she passed away." Aiden didn't understand, Sophia was waiting for him this whole time "What?" His father put on a more solemn face to show his seriousness "She passed away, she had been coughing up blood for months, she wasn't the only one." he put his hands on his son's shoulders "I'm sorry Aiden, Sophia is gone." Gone. Gone where. Gone what. Gone like a gong, a bell of ending. It meant she was gone. But she was there still in Aiden's mind, but he couldn't understand. "I have to go." His mother moved in to hold him but his father stopped her. Aiden, empty-eyed walked downstairs and out the door. He made it to Sophia's house but unlike his dream all the windows were drawn and the outer fence was in disrepair. He knocked and when Eileen showed her face it hit him. Gone. The face of loss, it had been two and a half years but she looked a decade older, and the holes in her head that were eyes filled Aiden with the dread he did not want to hear.
"Hello Aiden" she managed. Almost breaking his voice "Hi" he said back. Void of reason he began the speech he had practised in his head a thousand times of the road back to France "Your husband was a very honourable man, he served his country bravely and faced death with honour and gallantry, I can only bring my condolences" Eileen, who by now had known about her husbands death for over a year and had grown tired of prescribed condolences but tolerated it from Aiden "Thank you Aiden, that's kind of you, would you like some tea?" Aiden as if absent from his own mind responded with a dull "Yes." and sat down at the nearest chair. Not a word that could encompass the thoughts either had passed between them as the water boiled. When she finally served them and sat down she spoke "Did anyone tell you about Sophia" feeling his chest tighten "Yes." his own voice sounding foreign and ungrateful to him. "She was so young... And she really loved you" Aiden felt dizzy, trying to hold his composure. Eileen somehow looked so fragile, like she was made of kindling. Her hands shook as she brought the tea to her lips. "I know you two had ideas of being together so i know this is hard for you too." Aiden could only nod as his eyes began to water, pretending not to notice she continued "You've always been good to us, and I appreciate you looking out for this family." "We'll make sure you are taken care of." she nodded back sadly. After a moment she added "Sophia left you something, its in a paper bag in the drawing room." Aiden finished his tea and grieving protocol. He walked into the drawing room, the curtain were drawn and it was like night inside with an odd smell. He picked up the bag and looked inside, it was a beginner's set for painting, a palette and brush, essentially untouched. Something welled up inside him, in that darkness, overcoming his heart, the small flame had been snuffed out and all the world's glass was broken. He slumped in a chair and stared into the nothing. He wanted to cry out but pulled himself together, came out of the room, a perfect stone soldier. Delirious and scared of this new reality he paid farewell to Eileen Benoit and went home dazed. On the way he spied the ruins of an old gothic church, surrounded by trees. Aimless he wandered in, knowing that something was about to happen.
He just stood there for a moment, the breeze in his hair as he slowly realized he was clutching the bag to his chest, his own fingers tight on his arms. The arms that will never touch nor be touched, the children never born, the skies never laughed under. He felt his knees grow week, placed the bag down fearing he may fall and sat down in shock like he didn't own his body. His aimless stare at the hills through the detached gothic arch, the wind rustled his hair, and was fully alone with his mind. I could line in front of bullets, march into fields of death, but for what? The future now unpromised. His heart collapsed and twisted like the knot of an old oak tree, he felt a million miles away from home, from himself. Where was God in this darkness? This was not supposed to happen. This can't be real. He began to breathe but as soon as he did tears came down his face, his vision of the arch blurred and he couldn't see anything, he could only begin to feel what his heart had hidden. He breathed like a wounded animal, which only made him shake more. His desolation was coming, he knew it, like he was falling from the sky his whole body shuddered with his cometting heart into the void. He felt the life he was, that he had constructed in his mind, his wife Sophia painting and laughing in the light of their room, wiped to oblivion. He breathed deeply, moaning in pain and gripped the grass. He saw the children and birthday's they would make, wiped away. He breathed deeply, rocked back and forth sobbing. He saw the curves of her porcelain skin, her ruby lips, her emerald eyes, wiped away. He breathed in, head to the ground blind in tears while wind patted his head. Was it not enough for her father to pass, to see his countrymen slaughtered, what was his pain special to all the others who had perished? All the sunsets and sunrises in the universe, wiped away under a calm grey sky. He was howling now, choking on his uniform buttons he rent it open so he could breath, coughing though his tears as he took off the rest of his uniform and threw it. His heart felt like a million shards, his minds reflected in their infinite chaos, he saw the roses Sophia would paint and wanted to vomit as it reminded him of the bullet wounds. The red blossoms tearing open the bodies of men, glorying their dismal death, their glass eyes and still flesh. Those awful flowers of death were the same as Sophia's flowers of life. Aiden gripped the back of his head, tearing his hair, holding his own neck afraid of himself, afraid this feeling would overtake him. He heaved as he tried to catch his breath. The madness of Sophia's beauty, of the life left in ruin, a broken sky heart. He felt his insides lurch and lied down, he felt as if he was falling, he left his body behind. Eventually the world started to come back, the feeling of hot tears on his face cooled in the breeze, the sound of crickets and blowing grass, his body lying oddly on the ground. He finally opened his eyes and saw a blurry half grey blue sky, white clouds moved along peacefully. He felt empty, as if the weight of the past two and half years had been lifted off him and as if he had not eaten for weeks. He stayed there for a while, simply looking at the cloud or listening to the breeze. He entered empty time and when he saw the sun starting to go down and got up in a daze, still unrecuperated and began to go home.
The next few days he acted the same but was not his full self. The days were beautiful and warm but he found it unable to get out of bed, he simply stared through the window at the dancing sunlight and green leaves, God's orchestra could not persuade him. He in his full pain open the art kit and had set it up but felt nothing, only a reminder. Until he noticed that an unfinished painting was in the bag as well. It was the landscape of the Sophia's house, and he was in the foreground. Only that half was painted. She had the same vision, the same expectation he had that had been wiped away like rain. As painful as it was he saw Sophia living through her art, she did it to capture nature's beauty, free beauty, like the free beauty of their childhood, that took no blood to spill, no price to pay. Aiden began to realize the someone had paid and made that golden time possible. He then understood, he saw Sophia in all her paintings, in all the things she loved, in the scenery, the hills, the sky, the sun. She was there. And like her he only needed to try to capture it, to capture her. He looked out the window at the dancing sunlight, dipped his brush, and began to paint.
