Beauregard’s new artwork became very popular among mainstream audiences and reputable art critics. Unlike Malcolm, Beauregard charmed socialites and fans with his artistry, intellect, refinement, and individuality. Malcolm and Beauregard also boosted their popularity when they became active philanthropists like the Nelsons.
Reb and Giles finally thought their wards earned some personal time for relaxation. They invited Malcolm and Beauregard on the family’s upcoming cruise. The two men thought the offer seemed awkward at first, but they soon accepted.
It was the morning of Beauregard’s debut art exhibition in San Francisco. He reserved a convention center to display his paintings. After he finished setting up the exhibit, the artist admired his paintings along with Giles.
“What do you think?” Beauregard asked.
Giles felt optimistic about his client’s artwork. “You’ve made a lot of improvements. This is exactly what a mainstream audience will enjoy. It’s the full picture of Steampunk culture. These paintings are realistic and unusual at the same time. I always knew you had potential. You just had to fulfill it.”
The two men looked at the variety of Steampunk artwork. Beauregard’s paintings revealed images of factories, railroads, metropolitan cities, zeppelins, construction sites, and other industrial images.
“I wanted to incorporate elements from 19th Century Impressionism. It was such a beautiful art movement and Steampunks really appreciate elements from that time period. Actually, it was straightforward. I painted scenery and objects that fit in Steampunk culture. Nowadays, I don’t overcomplicate my artwork,” Beauregard explained.
Giles nodded his head. “Sometimes simple elements tell a greater story.”
Beauregard took a thorough look at his paintings. “There was a time when Steampunk was only science fiction. Why do you think the public chose to revive Victorian aesthetics?”
“It’s a phenomenon called retro-futurism. During the 21st Century, retro-futurism was anything in science fiction that depicted older time periods that had a futuristic style. Lately, we re-inverted the term. Today’s version of retro-futurism refers to contemporary and advanced cultures that take influences from the past,” Giles discussed.
“Are Steampunks the only retro-futuristic culture?” Beauregard wondered out loud.
Giles thought about it and then he responded, “No, but we’re definitely the dominant breed of human beings. The Utopians were not retro-futuristic and that was a big part of their problem. However, those annoying pirates are a retro movement. Keep in mind that nautical themes aren’t uncommon in Steampunk culture either.”
Beauregard found the conversation fascinating. “Maybe I could try some ocean themes for my next gallery showing.”
Giles placed his hand on Beauregard’s shoulder. “Just remember one thing. Take a really good look at your paintings and understand their realism. In the past, these images were fantasy, science fiction, and speculation. Today, they are accurate representations of our world.”
“Yeah, it goes to show we live in a pretty confusing landscape,” Beauregard replied.
Giles looked at the expression on Beauregard’s face. “Is something bothering you? It’s normal to feel nervous about your big art exhibit, but I’m sure it’s going to be very successful.”
Beauregard felt mildly embarrassed. “Actually, I was thinking about something else. Reb’s not here with you. Usually, you guys are joined at the hip. You have a really good relationship. I never had that type of closeness with a woman before. Sure, I had girlfriends, but everything was drama, fighting, lack of communication, cheating, and other negative things.”
“I think you need a woman who’s good enough for you. People swear by common interests, chemistry, physical attraction, love at first sight, but none of it builds a healthy relationship. Love is overrated. It comes with time if you have enough building blocks. You need a woman who is intelligent, beautiful, spunky, and elegant. That might sound shallow, but you’ll be more forgiving about her imperfections if she has those qualities,” Giles explained.
Beauregard was skeptical about his mentor’s justification. “I don’t know about that. You might be right, but it doesn’t sound very romantic.”
“Reality isn’t romantic at all. Think about every couple in the Nelson family. All of us were doomed from the start. It was always two personalities that didn’t mix together well. Famous actresses don’t get married to computer geeks. Southern belles don’t move all the way to Las Vegas and marry casino tycoons. Men like me don’t usually handle commitment well. I’m not the type who’s usually romantic, emotional, or marriage-minded. For me, everything revolves around independence, masculinity, and a successful career. We all got together with someone good enough for us, and then everything just fell into place,” Giles said as he reflected on their relationships.
Beauregard looked at his paintings again. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
Giles smirked. “Love never makes sense. Don’t think too much about it. We’ll both see Reb at the gallery. At the moment, she’s doing some work for her mother. I don’t envy her right now.”
In a different part of San Francisco, Reb sat on a folding chair while she played games on her cell phone. Savannah worked on a private runway with several of her models. She examined each of them while they wore her new line of Clockpunk attire. The models wore dresses that were influenced by the Renaissance with frills, low necklines, fans, and other items. When she was done coaching the models, she sat on a chair next to Reb.
She pulled out her flail and swatted her daughter’s knee. “Darling, I’m not paying you to play video games.”
Reb winced and rubbed her knee. “You’re not subtle at all. Why am I here today? It doesn’t seem like you need consultation for anything.”
“You’re my agent. I would like some serious feedback about my clothing line before releasing it to the public. Besides, all of us are going to Beauregard’s art gallery this evening anyway,” Savannah explained, while she watched her models walk the runway.
Reb tucked away her cell phone. “Renaissance meets Steampunk. It’s the type of thing your fans will appreciate. I think it works well considering your Italian ancestry.”
“Well, I needed to find some new ideas. By the way, I never had a chance to ask how life has been treating you since we sacked those Utopians,” Savannah mentioned.
Reb shrugged. “Life seems pretty normal. Granted, normal doesn’t exist in this Post-Apocalyptic era. I keep hearing about Victor’s conviction on the news.”
“Victor deserves to be executed for killing all of those people. Since then, I’ve noticed the number of Steampunk celebrities keeps growing. The island’s massacre probably scared celebrities into making some changes,” Savannah said as she crossed her legs.
“I’ve noticed that too. Most people who reject the Steampunk style are just renegades like the Utopians. Speaking of renegades, have you heard about those pirates causing trouble on the sea?” Reb asked.
“I hear about it every day on the news. That doesn’t make me happy at all because we’re going on that cruise soon,” Savannah muttered.
“Pirates don’t attack giant ocean liners. Our ship is extraordinary. It’s one of the biggest ocean liners in the world, and fully plated in iron. I’ll bet you didn’t know it can transform into a submarine. If we have any problems with pirates, the ocean liner can dive underwater to safety,” Reb explained.
Savannah was impressed with her daughter’s statement. “Really? I had no idea. That reminds me of something, are your old friends Malcolm and Beauregard joining us on the cruise?”
“Giles and I convinced them to come. It’s exactly what they need. Both of those newcomers need to experience life as cultured and respectable members of Steampunk society,” Reb said.
Savannah teased her, “Don’t you mean they need to become stuck-up snobs and socialites?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. It just sounds better if you don
’t say it that way,” Reb commented and laughed.
Savannah became distracted by a model’s wardrobe malfunction. “Hang on, Reb. I need to fix some things on the runway. You’re not allowed to leave yet. I’m still paying you.”
Reb groaned as her mother got up and dealt with the problem. “You’re killing me with boredom! I’ll never make it to the cruise!”
Percy walked into the facility and took Savannah’s chair. “How’s it going, Moonshine?”
“You know I don’t like being called Moonshine. Shouldn’t you still be in the office?” Reb protested.
“I left a little bit early to attend Beauregard’s exhibition. From what I heard, your hubby is doing a really good job with him,” Percy said, as he checked the time on his new pocket watch.
Reb raised an eyebrow. “Your new pocket watch has a vintage look. Don’t smash this one.”
Percy closed the watch’s lid and tucked it away. “Hopefully, I won’t have to use it as a weapon.”
Savannah returned and looked down at her husband. “Look at who’s here? You took my seat.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll go find another chair for you,” Percy said in a guilty tone.
Savannah flirtatiously responded, “That won’t be necessary. Would you mind if I sit on your lap?”
Percy tried not to show his excitement. “Of course you can. You may sit in my lap whenever you want.”
Reb frowned when Savannah comfortably sat on Percy’s lap. “Are you guys for real?”
“You don’t get to be so judgmental. If you wanted to sit in your husband’s lap, it wouldn’t be gross at all,” Savannah countered.
Reb looked away from them. “Actually, I was never much of a lap sitter.”
“You’re so impersonal. Does that mean you’re the type who screws and then rolls over? That doesn’t sound very romantic,” Percy mentioned.
Reb turned red. “I’m not comfortable talking about this with my parents.”
“Sorry for embarrassing you, Reb. Believe it or not, my sensuality is much more subdued than it was several years ago. Age caught up to me. Your brother’s wife has since replaced me as the family’s bombshell. I wanted you to take that role, but you’re too conservative,” Savannah replied.
Reb rolled her eyes. “My assets aren’t big enough to compete with Priscilla. She doesn’t own a single outfit that doesn’t push up her boobs to make them look even bigger. Priscilla also wears those leather corsets to squish in her belly. Then she tops it off with her fancy southern drawl, sun hats, and metal fans to look like the most charming gal in Las Vegas. You know what? Those parasols come in handy because Nevada is one of the hottest deserts in the nation.”
Priscilla snuck up behind her sister-in-law. “You little brat! I ought to strangle the life out of you!”
The southern belle grabbed Reb’s scarf and choked her. After a few seconds passed, Reb broke free and used her baton to stand up. “Well, you’re a long ways from Las Vegas! What are you doing here?”
“Gable and I flew over to view Beauregard’s art show. The kids aren’t here because they’re at summer camp,” Priscilla remarked.
“Let me guess. You and Gable aren’t cool enough for the kids anymore,” Percy commented.
Priscilla agreed with him. “That’s exactly what’s happening. It’s so depressing.”
“Get used to it. That’s what happens to every parent,” Savannah said as she stood up.
Reb put on her goggles. “This is for strangling me, Priscilla. I’m giving you the evil eye. Get a load of these peepers.”
“Shut up, Reb. Why do you have to be such a weirdo?” Priscilla muttered.
Percy also stood up. “Ladies, try to be civil at the art exhibition. Speaking of that, we need to leave in a few minutes. Savannah, you should dismiss the models so we can leave.”
She headed toward the walkway. “I’ve got it covered. Tonight there’s not going to be any quarrelling about boobs, corsets, cleavage, booties, or anything else that will attract unwanted attention through social media. Got it?”
“Somehow I know that statement was directed more to me than you,” Reb said to Priscilla, while removing her goggles.
Priscilla smugly responded, “You’re always the one who starts it.”
“I’m just looking forward to the cruise. It’s about time I got some rest and relaxation,” Reb grumbled.
Chapter 8
That evening, Beauregard’s exhibition was very popular. Celebrities, politicians, and art critics from across the nation came to view his paintings. The convention center was packed with people who were fascinated with the Impressionist artwork. Steampunks walked through the center as they munched on appetizers and sipped on cocktails.
Percy snacked on a tiny hot dog that was wrapped in a biscuit, while he walked with Savannah. “Pigs in a corset. I love these little things.”
“Look at these beautiful paintings. Beauregard is making remarkable progress both culturally and emotionally. His father must be proud. I hope they’re speaking to each other again,” Savannah said, as she admired the artwork.
In between bites of his snack, Percy said, “That’s a level of drama I want to avoid. Maybe Beau will run into his father at the next exhibition. Giles told me the next art show is going to be in Philadelphia, and that’s where Beau’s father lives.”
Savannah grabbed a martini along the way. “It really puts things into perspective. Our family squabbles are nothing compared to most drama.”
Reb and Giles also wandered through the convention center.
“Darling, you’re a mastermind. Beauregard went from being a broken and pathetic bohemian to a solid member of Steampunk society. His artwork is incredible,” Reb said, while she hung onto Giles’ arm.
“Truthfully, it wasn’t that hard. He has a lot of talent. I think he just needed some direction and motivation. Beau needed a reason to live. I helped him get started,” Giles explained.
Reb looked through the crowd. “You know what? I should check on Malcolm. He’ll be lost in a crowd of Steampunks.”
Giles whispered in her ear, “We should continue this conversation later. Maybe over a glass of wine and some more of that body oil?”
Reb stroked her husband’s beard. “I’m holding you to it. Don’t forget.”
The couple separated and she tried to find her protégé. She quickly ran into Beauregard instead.
“Reb, I haven’t seen you for a while. What do you think of my paintings?” Beauregard asked.
“I have to be honest, Beau. This is much more amazing than I expected. Your paintings are both realistic and somewhat ethereal at the same time. There’s something I wanted to tell you, I was supposed to take you as my client too, but there isn’t time in my schedule for two big projects. Turning Malcolm into a man was easy for me. Giles and I have been married for a long time and he taught me a lot about masculinity. However, turning you into an artist was a completely different challenge. If it means anything to you, I’m really proud of your accomplishments,” Reb admitted.
Beauregard understood her point. “Well, Giles did a pretty good job with me. I didn’t realize he was such an art connoisseur.”
Reb leaned toward him and commented, “He has a lot of refinement behind that rough exterior. Giles has a modest and confident type of masculinity. Malcolm is more of the brash and boisterous type. Speaking of Malcolm, have you seen him?”
“He was checking out my aerial setting a few minutes ago. Hang a left around the corner,” Beauregard replied.
“Wonderful. Keep me posted about your future projects. I find your artwork very interesting,” Reb said as she walked away.
She finally found Malcolm who was viewing Beauregard’s aviation painting. It depicted two giant airships engaged in futuristic combat.
“What does this painting mean?” Malcolm wondered out loud.
Reb put careful thought into the question, and answered, “I assume that depends on your interpretation. On a surface
level, it’s two aerial vessels fighting each other. Perhaps it has a deeper meaning. It might be symbolic of a political or cultural disagreement.”
“Like what? I find this Post-Apocalyptic era so confusing. It seems like Steampunks rule the world now,” Malcolm replied.
“Do you remember those Utopians? That was a big culture clash for a while. I guess they were the remnants of a dying era. Maybe this airship battle is the representation of Steampunks and those who can’t progress. I doubt that’s what Beau had in mind even though it’s an interesting theory,” Reb speculated.
Malcolm scratched his head. “Beau would know what it means. I’ll ask him later.”
“By the way, I noticed that you didn’t bring a date. Lately women have been throwing themselves at you. What’s the hold up?” Reb queried.
Malcolm groaned. “I haven’t been a Steampunk for very long. My entire universe has changed. Right now, the dating market intimidates me. I don’t even know what Steampunk women want.”
Reb chuckled. “Don’t waste your time worrying about that. Men will never understand what women want. That part hasn’t changed since before the Apocalypse happened.”
“Do you have any suggestions?” Malcolm asked.
“I don’t think you should settle for second best. You’re successful, good-looking, athletic, charismatic, and you have an interesting story about redemption. That means you deserve someone who is also special. Let the world know that you’re a catch and then the right woman will come along,” Reb confidently explained.
Malcolm looked suspiciously at his agent. “Weren’t the marriages in your family arranged?”
Reb shrugged. “I suppose that’s at least partially true. We’re a shallow family. Almost everyone in my family gravitates to status, publicity, looks, wealth, and power. You’re a shallow person too. Maybe our methods would work for you.”
Malcolm was mildly insulted. “Thanks a lot. It makes me question your dating advice.”
The Post-Apocalyptic Society: A Nelson and Hyde Revolution Page 16
