Woman in the Painting: "I answered honestly that I read it in Dan Brown’s fiction book Da Vinci Code"
She smiled faintly, just like the smile in the painting that I had not seen at that time. I had to admit that she was sometimes more mature than me even though our ages were 18 years apart. Although she also had to admit that sometimes she was more childish than Saskia, my first daughter who was still 10 years old.
“This is it,” she finally decided. “Now, Uncle my honey, just go home to the apartment. Later I will send something that…” she shrugged her shoulders, “maybe Uncle can use as medicine when you miss me. If there are any questions about it, just keep it until we meet a week later. What I send will reveal all my past.”
Finally, the painting arrived, delivered by a taxi driver to my apartment. It was 77 x 53 centimeters and I made sure it was no more, no less. In the midst of my anxiety holding back my longing, I took a meter and measured it. I did it several times even though I was sure I had gotten an accurate number on the first measurement.
“You are right, I am indeed with this painting,” I replied then. “For the past week, I have always been with it. I even took it to bed.”
I wasn’t lying about that. I put the half-body painting beside me when I slept. When my longing was so intense that I was tempted to break our agreement, I once put it in the bathroom and stared at it non-stop while sitting on the toilet. I did that three times and promised to tell him at the right time while we were together, not during dinner or coffee.
“I knew it, Uncle my honey, that you would take it to bed. I even suspected Uncle would take it to the bathroom and play with it,” she laughed at the end of her sentence. She was right about one thing but wrong about another.
“I’m curious about the painting.”
“I know that too.”
“Then, if you already know, what?”
She was silent for a moment. “Hmmm, back to our agreement. Uncle has to return the painting. Uncle can only have it for a week, after that it’s mine again. Maybe forever. The painting is not for sale even at a high price.”
“The woman in the painting is very expensive, to me. But is the painter so famous that someone would buy a painting for billions?”
He laughed crisply, as usual. “I don’t understand painting, and I don’t like it either. The only painting I ever kept was that painting, right? I said that before. I hope you haven’t forgotten.”
He was right. I don’t like and don’t care about paintings even though I dare to claim to be an art lover. In a conversation with him, I once mentioned the sfumato technique in the Mona Lisa painting. He was surprised and asked where I learned about it. I answered honestly that I read it in Dan Brown’s fiction book Da Vinci Code. That answer also confirmed that I am a literary art lover and have a large collection of Nobel-class literature.
“Oh yeah, I’ve never forgotten what I said to you. And I’ve never forgotten what you said to me.”
He laughed again.
“Even though I don’t have a painting, I still want to be painted by that painter. But of course with my clothes on.”
“Just say that I want to get to know him, or want to know if he’s a man or a woman. According to Uncle, is he a man or a woman?”
He could indeed guess what I wanted. I did want to know whether he was a man or a woman, whether he was really unclothed in the painting, and who else had kept the painting besides me.
“I can’t guess, even though there are only two choices. But because the painting is very special, the painter must be special too. The people who saw the process of creating the painting are also special, the people who have kept the painting are also special.”
“Now, let’s start again.”
“I wanted to hear your answer, so that I don’t answer with guesses. But you’re asking me to play guessing games,” I just realized that my tone of voice was a bit high. He fell silent on the other end. A moment of silence came between us.
“We promised to meet, right?” he said then. “I’ll wait for Uncle at the usual place. But there shouldn’t be any arguments, we’ve just finished our hibernation period.”
If he was honest and I wasn’t playing around with my own feelings, of course there wouldn’t be any arguments. But fights often arise uncontrollably when we both lose control. But tonight, I have found the answer and the courage to end the fight.[]
To be continued in part-3
