Immortal Beauty

by Thomas McDermott

  “How are you feeling Taylor? Are you alright? You look a little flushed.” Her voice sounded so very far away. The sunlight was too bright all at once and every little sound pierced his consciousness so that it actually hurt. What the hell was happening to him? He thought he must be having a stroke or an aneurism. He couldn’t answer Celine. His fingers lost their grip on the glass and the sound of the gentle thud as if landed on the carpet was like thunder to his ears. Celine was saying something but he couldn’t comprehend it. Images began to flash in his mind. Images of people and places that he had never seen but he knew them all. There was the grand house on the hill from his dream and Helene, or was it Sasha was beckoning to him. There was a woman with incredibly light hair and violet eyes that was walking in the gardens of the very same house. Suddenly he saw vast plains in his mind’s eye. There were Indians on horseback riding madly to some unknown destination. They vanished and were replaced with a circle of Indians chanting together beseeching the sky above. This too vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he saw ancient Rome or so he thought and room filled with languorous people lying about feasting slowly on a banquet. Sasha was there too but she looked funny. Her hair and her make up were other worldly. They were all laughing and telling stories. The language was foreign but he found he could understand what they were saying. He was listening to his friend, a short and muscular man draped in rich robes describing how they had conquered a new land and had stolen the sacred waters of the pool of Locium. He pointed to a large container that was made from a light red clay with paintings in dark umber all around the vessel. All eyes were on him as he told the tale of a savage witch who guarded the waters and how they outsmarted her and managed to carry off large quantities of the mythical water before she could free herself from the trap they had set. The group laughed at his imitation of the savage. Suddenly the scene changed again and he was on a hillside with hundreds of soldiers. They were Roman soldiers and in front of him was a cave with a primitive woman screaming out curses at them in a language he had never heard before. Her eyes were wide with anger and terror as she tried to make them leave her temple. Her flaming red hair was all tangled in a mess of dirty curls. There was no mistaking it; the woman was Celine. He struggled to banish the images from his mind and for a moment he could see Celine looking at him with an expression of pity. This was it. He was going mad and this is what it feels like to go mad and to have no connection to reality. A great sadness swept over him followed by a feeling of dread. He wasn’t going crazy. This was far worse than insanity. He was beginning to remember! He was beginning to remember. This was his last thought before he passed out into blackness.

  CONTACT

  Sasha sat at her desk and willed herself not to think about last night. It was going to be difficult and she could not stop smiling no matter how hard she tried and she really needed to concentrate on what she was doing which was pretty much impossible. She sat there saying “Bonjour!” to the countless automatons in black who sailed past her desk all morning. She thought if she had to say it one more time she was going to explode. She loved the friendliness of the French people but sometimes she just wanted to be left alone with her work but this was perceived as being rude or a sign that something was terribly wrong with her. Nothing was wrong this morning. Every time she said “Bonjour” she meant it and it sounded great. After most of the workers were settled into their first and most important task of visiting with each other and catching up on the previous day’s events until a manager or the president herself rolled around at which they would instantly switch to business jargon. The funny thing is they were way more efficient than her fellow countrymen yet they managed somehow to keep the “joi de vie” alive and well in the workplace. Now she needed to find out everything she could about Celine D’Aumont before she saw Taylor again. She imagined herself working with him on this story and finding out some riotous fact about her early life that would crush her. It was insane this competition she felt with Celine and now she found herself hating any time that Celine and Taylor spent together. She was jealous of the interview itself. In one date she had turned into the most feminine of heroines in one of those cheap romantic thrillers she loved to read growing up. The books always took place in some exotic location and the main character always spoke three languages and ate things like caviar and canapés while saving the free world and falling in love all at the same time. They were ridiculous but to Sasha they were a lifesaver and when she couldn’t take small town American life any longer she could grab one of these books and sneak away into the laundry room on top of an old steamer trunk her mother had which Sasha had thrown blankets and pillows on top of and she would read until called to dinner and find herself back in her Midwestern world determined to escape. Her thoughts returned to Celine and what she would think if she knew that the woman she had just given a promotion to was looking for dirt on her which could be published in a huge magazine. There had to be a skeleton or two in her family closet, especially if she was from an old French family which Sasha suspected. Once she was sure that the people in her office were occupied she began her search. Her initial efforts revealed little other than what she already knew. Celine D’Aumont listed as the president of Celgen technologies was French but there was no reference to where in France she had come from. Sasha looked for over an hour and still found nothing. It seems that Celine appeared from thin air about ten years ago armed with and endless amount of money and a dream to build a beauty empire. Everything from that point on was well documented. Sasha looked in government records and utility companies and even colleges. There was nothing. In desperation she just typed in Celine’s name and waited for the thousands of listings to begin. There were many sites to choose from and one caught her eye about a Celine D’Aumont that lived in the eighteenth century. She was excited as she started reading and her heart began to beat faster as the facts appeared on her screen. She was a countess and had a glorious home in Paris that no longer existed and even played a part in the French revolution. She was known as a friend to the people and was spared her life in the Terror because she had harbored intellectuals and artists during that time. Sasha felt her blood turn cold. This was too much like her dream. She searched a few more sites looking for a picture of the woman. Finally she found an old portrait painted of the woman from the seventeen hundreds. The woman was dressed in a green gown full of elaborate designs and an endless amount of silk ribbon woven into the fabric. Her hair was done up in an elegant style swooping high up from her forehead. She wore a necklace of large emeralds with pearl and emerald earrings. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. This countess from France’s history looked exactly like Celine. It had to be her ancestor of course but this was uncanny. She went back and looked for the grand old house in Paris and saw that it had been situated on Rue Varenne which was the name of the street in her horrible nightmare. Nothing was making sense at all. How could Sasha have dreamed of a woman in history and her house before she knew anything about her and how could she have dreamed of Taylor in the same fashion? She didn’t believe in psychics as a general rule but now was beginning to have her doubts. Her mother would say that she had “the sight”. It was supposedly passed down by the women in Sasha’s family on her mother’s side. She went back to the portrait and could not get over how it looked exactly like her boss at a costume party. She tried to find out what happened to the countess. Apparently she disappeared about ten years after the revolution. Her house was closed and that was the last history ever heard from her. She was as mysterious as Sasha’s boss. Sasha was frustrated. None of this made any sense at all. She put her things down and reached for her cold cup of coffee. She leaned back in her chair and let her eyes scan the room. So far nobody noticed that she wasn’t doing any work. She looked out the window and couldn’t quite make sense of what she saw. It was the blackbird sitting on the ledge staring at her. It tapped three times on the glass before taking off. Sasha jumped up nearly spilling her coffee and she rushed to the wind
ow. She looked down to the street below and saw a woman dressed in a black cloak looking up at her. The bird was gliding downward to gracefully alight on her shoulder. The woman stood there without moving as if she were waiting for a sign and Sasha gave her one. She motioned for the stranger to wait and ran back to her desk to clear the screen before making her way out of the building. She mumbled something about more coffee to one of her managers who barely took notice of her and she ran out of the doors. She prayed the woman would still be there. Sasha wanted some answers and she wanted them now. She ran out into the sunlight and saw the woman sitting on one of the benches near the entrance. She looked bored waiting there all alone and unexpectedly Sasha found that she was angry at the strange woman with the bird. How dare she show up like this at her home and now her work to disrupt her otherwise perfect little Parisian life? What had she ever done to deserve this bizarre behavior from someone she didn’t even know? Maybe it did have to do with Celgen. The thought occurred to her that she might be some sort of corporate mole looking for an insider but this idea seemed so ridiculous she couldn’t really entertain it for too long. She stood in front of the woman who Sasha realized was very pretty in a soft feminine way with large violet eyes that gave her the appearance of being otherworldly. Sasha crossed her arms defiantly and waited. The woman slowly looked at her and gave off the most insincere smile imaginable. When she spoke her voice was a soft flat whisper.

  “Sasha White. It is imperative that I speak to you.” That was it. No explanation or apology for stalking her.

  “Is it? And why would that be?” Sasha tried to keep from raising her voice and tried her best to match the stranger’s calm exterior.

  “I will explain myself but not here Could we walk for a bit?” The woman rose and started walking away without bothering to wait for a response. This woman was not only a mystery but she was incredibly rude. Sasha had to follow her because she wanted to get to the bottom of this. She hurried to catch up with the woman in black until she was walking by her side.

  “Let’s go down by the river…less people.” She didn’t look at Sasha but straight ahead with the absurd creature perched on her shoulder. She kept silent until they were farther away from the crowded streets and walking along the Seine. Sasha couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Well? What’s this all about? Why have you been following me? I mean, I should call the police.” She wanted to assert herself somehow against this woman.

  “Go ahead. Call the police. It won’t make any difference. I can wait. Go ahead.” The woman was infuriating. Sasha simply continued to walk alongside her. Finally the pretty young lady began to speak.

  “My name is Claire. I’m not even supposed to be speaking to you. I’m only supposed to be observing you.”

  “Observing me? What do you mean? Who asked you to watch me?” A terrible thought rose in her mind. “Celine?”

  “Oh Lord no! If Celine knew I was watching you she would have me killed.” The woman said this last statement so casually and even laughed at the idea of it.

  “Killed? isn’t that a little extreme. This is my boss we’re talking about.” Suddenly the call to the police didn’t seem like a bad idea.

  “It’s not extreme for Celine, but that’s not why I wanted to speak to you. I’m watching you to make sure nothing happens to you. We believe that Celine may try an attempt on your life very soon and we are trying to make sure that this does not happen.” Claire was completely serious when she spoke even though her words were incredulous. She acted as if she were talking about the weather and not the murder of her companion. “The reason I am speaking to you is that I think something has happened to Taylor. Celine took him to her lab in Orleans today and returned alone. We think she may have already killed him.” Sasha couldn’t breathe. Was this really happening? Had she unwittingly found herself in the midst of some beauty world mafia? It was truly all from a bad novel and she wanted it to all go away.

  “Who is this ‘We’ you keep referring to? Who are you and for that matter why should I believe anything you say?” Sasha continued to walk by Claire’s side ignoring the accusing stare of the blackbird.

  “That is unimportant right now. You are the only one who could possibly get into the lab at Orleans. You might be the only one who can save him. She already knows that we move against her.” Claire stopped walking abruptly and stared out into the river. The bird flew from her shoulder and up into the sky. For the first time Claire looked directly at Sasha and in that moment Sasha was sure they had met before. “I don’t care if you believe me or not but if you love Taylor like I know you do then you will go save him. I am just the messenger.” She started walking off again and Sasha followed at heel.

  “Wait! You are going to have to explain yourself! How do you know about me and Taylor? I’m not in love with him either…we just met!” She didn’t know why that was so important to say and felt like she was just found out at school having a crush on some boy.

  “Whatever Sasha. You do this every time and frankly it tires me. All of this tires me. I’ve said what I have to say and now you mustn’t follow me.” She pretended to smile and turned to leave.

  “Yeah right!” Sasha kept by Claire’s side who looked at her with the piercing light eyes.

  “I mean it Sasha go back to work or whatever. I don’t care. I just thought you should know that Taylor is in trouble. I’m sorry I even bothered.” She dismissed Sasha with a wave of her hand.

  “I am not letting you get away without explaining yourself. I’m just going to follow you until you give in so you might as well save us both the trouble and tell me what this insanity is all about.” Sasha grabbed Claire’s arm tightly.

  “You really don’t want to do that.” It was more of a bored sigh than a threat.

  “Oh really? What are you going to do?” Sasha did not respond well to threats. Claire didn’t answer her and the Sasha heard a sound from afar. It was the sound of birds cawing and crying out from the air and all around them. She looked up and saw hundreds of birds flying towards them. They swooped down and circled her and the flock became a frightening force becoming more loud and more dense with each passing second. Sasha screamed and let go of Claire’s arm. The birds were pecking at her hair and disorienting her completely. She waved her arms about madly and continued to scream. Little by little the raucous became less intense and it seemed that the birds were going away. Only a few remained screeching at her as she tried to pull herself together. Claire was nowhere to be seen. Sasha felt the tears come flying down her face as fear and frustration overwhelmed her. She tried to rearrange her outfit to look as if the most insane thing in the world did not just happen to her and smoothed her hair which was all over the place. The tears continued to fall as she started walking back to Celgen even though she knew she couldn’t return to work like this and she pulled out her cell phone to let them know she had taken ill and was going home. Without even thinking she headed for the metro and bought a ticket for the RER train to take her south to Orleans. On the way out into the country Sasha took this opportunity to pull herself together. She started with her appearance in the small bathroom on the train. She pulled her makeup out of her purse an reapplied everything after washing off the old which had run from all the crying she had been doing. She took her brush and forced her untamed hair into submission and secured it into a ponytail. Once satisfied that she looked somewhat normal she returned to her seat by the window and watch the lovely countryside roll by. The train passed quaint little towns with churches made of stone and there was plenty of livestock in the verdant fields south of Paris. It was all so genteel and calm that she suddenly wished for an existence like this. How funny that she found herself dreaming about the rolling hills and farms that she had spent her entire life trying to escape. Maybe she was homesick for the first time since coming to France. It was bound to happen eventually. She never really had the chance to reflect on all the changes that had happened since moving away. There had only been time for w
ork and more work to reach her goals. Now sitting on the fast moving train she had a good hour or so to think about all the things she had pushed to the back of her mind. There had to be some explanation for all the bizarre events that had come crashing into her life. Once she saw Taylor she knew she would feel better. She couldn’t help but feel that she was being played somehow in someone else’s game. The idea that Celine could kill Taylor was just so unreal that Sasha began to discredit Claire as some crazy bird lady from the streets who made a habit out of stalking innocent people. She would definitely go to the police when she got back home. They probably knew all about crazy Claire. Right now though she just wanted to make sure Taylor was alright. She gazed out of the window and tried to quiet her thoughts that were going around and around in circles never arriving at any logical explanation. Speculation would just make her more crazy than she felt already. What she needed right now were some cold hard facts. Hopefully Taylor had found out some new information about Celgen that was keeping him in Orleans. She found herself wishing this to be true and kept pushing Claire’s words out of her head. Only a few more miles and she would get to the bottom of all this.

  PASSY

  Candles were lit in every possible corner of every room in the grand house. Guests were beginning to arrive in their carriages for the most talked about party of the year. The Countess D’Aumont was not a woman that many people could decline when she sent out invitations written in gold ink announcing a New Year’s party in the Passy estate and there were few who could not attend simply because they had retired south for the winter. Most everyone was curious to see how the new Countess was getting along. She had taken the place of the poor woman who had died with her two daughters only a few years back. Everyone thought that the Count would not recover but then his mistress was the only one who could reach him in his inconsolable grief. He had wanted to die and came to believe that God was punishing him and he would only allow Celine into the dark and musty rooms of the sad house to bring him his broth and his wine and bread when he felt he could eat. Only she could spend hours by his side saying nothing and after a while began to suggest to him that the sun would rise and set with or without him. The world didn’t care. It would still turn the harshest of winters into the gayest of Springs without once glancing to see if he were alright. She told him that death was part of this life and something we all had to accept at one time or another and surely his dearly departed family would want him to continue living in the beautiful home he had built for their happiness. She whispered in his ear an incomprehensible story of how it was she alone who had cheated death. She had found a way out of the horrible cycle of suffering in which he was ensnared. For the first time since the death of his beloved girls the count took an interest in something. At first he thought she must be mad but then little by little in the dark and cold stone rooms he began to believe the story. It explained how it was possible that he found her sealed into the hillside for century upon century. She told him of the deception of her own people and how it was her own father who had sealed her into the hill. Her punishment was the result of the invaders from another land who stole the sacred water right beneath her menacing gaze. It was her mission to follow them through time to make them pay for what they had done to her and her people. The theft had happened on her watch when she was high priestess of the waters of Locium. She told him the tale of a goddess who fell in love with an angel and they made love in the air and the weight of this new emotion sent them plummeting towards the earth but they did not care. They were so hypnotized by their passion that they never even noticed that the moment the goddess’ foot touched the ground they transformed into a spring which flows forever as a testament to their love and also as a warning to the gods to beware such human emotions such as love. The spring was hidden under a hill by the water nymphs because they knew what this water would do to the mere mortals who lived there. It was too powerful and too sacred. None must sip from the waters under threat of eternal punishment. For centuries before Celine was born it was her people and her family that guarded the waters. It was hers to protect and hers to partake and now the thieves must be alive somewhere very near for she knew the addictive qualities of the water. They would return to the source of this she was certain. She divined a new purpose for her and her husband and the purpose gave him enough strength to rouse himself from his depression. Part of his isolation stemmed from the fear that God would strike him down next and first wanted him to suffer by losing his family first. Now Celine was telling him he need not fear death anymore. Her gods were stronger than his. She kissed him and told him he could live forever by her side with the water flowing right underneath their feet. She needed his help to extract the revenge she had planned for centuries. She could feel their presence even as she whispered her diatribe in his ear. She knew the time was coming and she could not do it alone. All the while she fed him the water from the spring far below which gave him back the strength that had gone rushing from his limbs in that horrific moment when he found out about his family. The water was sharpening his senses and giving him an optimism that had been missing for so long. It was Celine who convinced him to marry her and to carry on with life as a man of position and power. It was Celine who told him what to do with all his money that he thought nothing of and within a year she had doubled his already immense fortune, and it was Celine who persuaded him to throw the most sophisticated party of the year to show everyone that he was back in his stride and that people should no longer feel sorry for the “poor Count D’Aumont.”