Pentimento: a dystopian Beauty and the Beast

by Jace, Cameron

  Andre laughed. Iris didn’t like anyone laughing at her. “There were no such technologies in their time,” he said. “But still, the Indians didn't see the ships with their eyes at first glance," Andre said. "It happened later, when one of them saw the ships and told the others there was something in the water. He thought it was a creature of the sea with wings and that it was far away, but was getting bigger and bigger."

  "What kind of nonsense is that?"

  "It's not nonsense," Andre said. "It's how the mind works. The Indians had never seen a ship. They had never even been exposed to the idea that a ship existed. The idea of sailing in the sea was utter madness to them, and they had never been introduced to it. So think of it this way: the Indians’ minds saw a certain reality in front of them, a reality that their mind had not been introduced to before. So what do you think the mind does to a human when challenged this way?"

  Iris felt dizzy, but she liked the story. It was hard to fully comprehend, but she could relate to it, not understanding why. A strange feeling overwhelmed her briefly. "What does this story have to do with you practicing the Pentimento?" she asked.

  "This story was the first time I was introduced to the idea of Pentimento," Andre explained.

  "But Pentimento is only a painter's term."

  "That's where you and I, and your father probably, differ," Andre said. "The ships the Indians couldn't see was a Pentimento of sorts. In fact, there are all kinds of Pentimentos in this world. When you look at a flower that reminds you of someone and it takes you back to an old memory deep inside you, that's Pentimento. When a photograph reminds you of how you felt in a certain moment, that’s Pentimento. And when you neglect someone's looks for a moment and learn about them, talk to them, and share experiences with them--a moment when you see their true beauty, that's Pentimento."

  Iris suddenly wanted to leave the room and go back to her chamber. It had only been an hour or so, and Andre's conversation made her feel an unexplainable, unreasonable, an almost inhuman attraction to him. It was so wrong, she could not understand it. The only way to accept it was to believe the words he'd just said; to forget he was a Beast, that he was ugly, a monster, and unrighteously took girls from her world.

  The thought made her want to see his face right now. She needed to lose her interest and attraction right now, and she thought seeing his beastly face would solve that for her.

  She was in love with Colton. And although she might not see him again, it didn't mean she'd stop loving him.

  But Andre not only shared her hobby; he understood it, even deeper than she thought he did. He understood her need to know, to explore. He was a beast with a heart of an artist. He was dominant, grounded, and passionate about what he loved. And she'd learned all of this about him within an hour. An hour of talking, not seeing his face. Andre was like an ugly rock, sitting solid by the shore, content with what it is, and all Iris needed was to crash into him like a foolish tide.

  “Do you understand me?” Andre repeated. All she could do was raise her eyes back to him. Her lips were sealed, her mind wandering, and her heart thudding. “Pentimento actually describes the human condition. People are made of layers upon layers. Somewhere in that deepest layer lies the true self, what they were meant to be in the first place. Some stay true and surface with a layer that is no different than the deepest one, and some lose their way and become something else.”

  Iris shrugged. She felt numb, and again, she didn’t know why. She was being lectured by a Beast about humanity and it puzzled her how they saw right through them. "Is that Picasso?" she changed the subject, trying to silence the emotion buzzing in her mind.

  "It is," Andre pointed at a painting on the table. "The Old Guitarist, one of the most famous Pentimentos in the world. What we see and what he'd painted initially are two different things."

  "Did he have as message as well?” Iris inquired reluctantly.

  "I don't really know." Andre said.

  "Strange. Aren’t you are a Beast? I mean, a Master? You must know everything."

  "We know what we’ve had a chance to interpret or investigate. But generally, you could say we’ve arrived too late," he explained. "The world was already destroyed."

  "Was is that bad?"

  For the first time, Andre lowered his head behind the veil. She couldn't tell if it was guilt, empathy, or respect. "Like many other things, let's not talk about this now," he said. "I wanted you to see this room and maybe explore the many paintings I have here. I thought it would make you happier, and help us continue the conversation later today."

  "The one about Zoe," Iris insisted. "Are you going to tell me what happened to Zoe?"

  "Shouldn't you be worried about what's going to happen to you?" he said.

  Iris shrugged, hoping this wasn't a threat. The Beast, who called himself Prince Andre, was half-disappearing into whatever invisible door he'd come from. His veil was half white, half dark now. A perfect analogy to how she felt about him, about what he really was, and how Iris perceived every word he said.

  "I'll leave you with your artistic hobby," Andre said. "Enjoy it, until we meet again in a few thousand heartbeats. I believe we'll have a much better conversation, and I promise I will answer some questions. Until your time comes, we have a lot to talk about."

  "Prince Andre!" Iris said, before he disappeared. Calling him prince was her feeble tactic, until she knew what he wanted to do to her later, when her time came. What an uncomfortable thought.

  "Yes, Iris?" he said, without turning around.

  "Was it really horrible what happened to the world before you came?" she wondered.

  "Did you ever ask yourself why your nation is called The Second?" Like usual, he answered with a question.

  "Should I?" she thought she'd play his game.

  "We called you The Second because after what you had done to the world, we wanted to give you a second chance."

  47

  Back in her chamber, Iris asked her servant girl to show her around, so she could enjoy everything in it. Iris's plan was to learn as much as possible from her about the Beast's world. The girl was honored to help her princess. Still, in the middle of all of this, she offered Iris another towel to clear her mind.

  "Aren't you going to tell me what I am supposed to see or hear with this towel?" Iris befriended her.

  "Of all things, this is one of the things I am most not allowed to discuss with you, My Beauty," she said. "I am afraid I don't really know what you're supposed to see."

  "Don't you have a clear mind yourself?"

  "I do. Very much," she said. "And if I don't, the Masters help me restore clarity. They taught me meditation."

  "Meditation?" Iris nodded. "So if you don't mind me asking, did you live in The Second before?"

  "I also can't say, My Beauty," the girl stowed some of the dresses in the closet. "Would you like me to give you a massage?"

  "Sounds like a great idea." Iris pretended to be interested.

  "As you wish, My Beauty. Just lay on your stomach," the girl showed her to a special bed in the chamber. It was fixed right above a glassy part where she could see the stars below her, just like in the hallways. Iris felt reluctant as she took her dress off.

  "Don't worry, My Beauty," the girl said. "You will not fall back down to Earth," she laughed. "The glass is stronger than steel. And it's a nice view to the stars, while enjoying your massage."

  Iris gave in eventually and got on the bed. The view was dreamy and the girl's hands were just the right pressure. It felt relaxing. Too relaxing for someone who wanted to save Zoe.

  "What's your name?" Iris thought she'd ask the girl.

  "Call me 'servant,'" the girl said. "You're not supposed to know my name until..."

  "Until?" Iris tilted her head.

  "Again, I can't say."

  "Well, that wasn't helpful," Iris rolled her eyes. "Can you tell me how the Beasts look, then?"

  "I haven't seen one," the girl said. "I am a servant. I am no
t supposed to see my Masters. It's the polite way."

  Although the massage was good, Iris was about to pull her hair out and scream. She needed to find a source of information, or get out of this room somehow.

  "I bet you have an amazing steam bath somewhere," Iris said.

  "The pool in your chamber does that."

  "I meant a big pool, somewhere I can swim a long distance." Iris didn't give up.

  "We do, but your Master hasn't allowed it yet."

  It was obvious that the nameless girl was of no help. Iris had to take things in her own hands. She enjoyed her massage, and let the girl dress her and comb her hair in the mirror. Her hair seemed different. It seemed stiff again, like when she was a kid.

  "That's strange," she told her servant. "Has my hair been that stiff since I came?"

  "It's been horrible," the girl said, then looked like she regretted it. "I mean, no. I can fix it."

  "You can be honest with me," Iris said. "I'm not going to bite you."

  "Frankly, it's been like that."

  "But I didn't have such bad hair in The Second." Iris said.

  "Never?" the girl's voice peaked from under her veil.

  "To tell the truth, I did when I was a kid. At least, I remember it was horrible. Although my mother always told me otherwise. She and my dad liked it a lot. Then somehow later, when I grew older, it seemed better."

  "Maybe it's always been good," the girl said. "Maybe it was just your imagination."

  "Could be," Iris sighed. Her hair was the last thing she cared about now. She had to get out of this chamber. She bowed forward suddenly and held her stomach, pretending it hurt badly. It was the oldest and cheesiest trick in the book, but she was out of options.

  "Are you alright, My Beauty?" the girl looked worried.

  "I think it's the food I ate," Iris growled.

  "That's impossible," the girl said. "The food is the healthiest in the world."

  "Could you at least get me a doctor?" Iris was losing it, frustrated she couldn't fool her servant. "You must have a doctor somewhere."

  "We don't, My Beauty," the girl said. "No Bride ever gets ill here."

  "How about the Masters?"

  "I don't think they ever get sick," the girl snickered.

  "What's so funny? I'm hurting here."

  "You must just be imagining it," the girl said.

  "Okay. That's it," Iris snapped. "I don't want you as a servant. Get out!" Iris couldn't control her anger. Repeatedly telling her how she really felt was getting on her nerves.

  "As you wish, My Beauty," the girl showed no sign of anger. She obeyed her and walked to the wall, whispered to it as it turned into a door.

  Iris had a fraction of a second to seize the opportunity. Fueled by her frustration, she dashed toward the door and knocked the girl to the floor. It was an unexpectedly hard hit. The girl fell, holding her head.

  For a tiny second, Iris thought she'd pull her veil and see her face. It didn't sound like a good idea. Someone was going to come after Iris soon and she had to run.

  48

  Iris ran in the hallway with the stars beneath her feet. She ran faster than she thought she could. No one had come after her yet, but she knew it was inevitable. She didn't even know where to go, and what to do. The one thing that dawned on her was yelling Zoe's name.

  "Zoe! Where are you? It's Iris. Please tell me you're alive!"

  The white walls were misleading and suffocating. Iris realized her only guide were the stars. Men had been guided by stars all their lives, staring up at them and learning from them. Iris had them right beneath her feet. This must have been how Gods felt.

  Finally, Iris came around to a huge opening to a newer place. There were no doors and no guards. Only a breathtaking scene like she had never imagined. She saw a vast green area with bending palm trees, swinging to the golden rays of a not-so-distant sun. She wasn't sure it was the same sun she saw on Earth. This one splayed the right amount of light and heat in a constant beam, never too warm or weak. The sky was pinkish, and void of stars. Rainbows were a dime a dozen. Birds on the tree sang actual songs, like humans did. Everything seemed to revolve around a certain spot: a waterfall.

  What kind of ship was this, with a whole world inside it?

  Iris ran down the slope toward this magnificent scene. She felt like a child again, running into her papa’s arms. The feeling was so euphoric, that something inside her told her this wasn't real. It just couldn't be.

  On her way down the slope, she saw there were way too many girls gathered down by the waterfall. They were swimming, singing, and laughing. And they were definitely human.

  "Hey!" Iris shouted, walking barefoot on the wet grass. "Someone help me!"

  The girls didn't pay attention to Iris. Their own content seemed to blind them from seeing the Bride escaping her chamber. Their movements were minimal, and they seemed hypnotized.

  It dawned on Iris that these girls must have also been Brides. She'd found them. Finally.

  As she ran, she was eager to see their faces. She'd recognize one or two for sure. Would she see Eva? Zoe, maybe? But she could only see their backs, as they sang and played happily in the water.

  "Hey! Can't you hear me?" It was if she were invisible. "Did anyone see a girl named Zoe?"

  Iris was only strides away from them, when her legs brought her to a stop. She thought one of the girls glanced at her briefly, then turned around. But it wasn't possible because this girl looked...

  Iris lowered her head and stared at the grass. She didn't know why she did that, but she knew she was in for something horrible. Did she really see that? Was the girl's face real?

  "I'm here Iris," a voice told her. It was calm, sad; and torn into pieces. So much so, she didn't recognize it was Zoe's in the beginning.

  "Zoe?" Iris wondered, her head still lowered. "Is that you?"

  "It's me, Iris. You have no idea what it means to me, you coming here for me."

  "But Zoe," Iris was trembling. The girl’s face she’d just seen was appalling. "I can't lift my head up to see you. I think I saw a girl who looked..."

  "I know," Zoe's sad voice said. "I know what you have seen."

  "Tell me they haven't done the same to you, Zoe," Iris said. "Please tell me you don't look like the girl I just saw."

  Zoe didn't answer her. It was the only way to get Iris's curiosity to raise her head and look at her.

  Iris raised her head slowly, hoping and praying she was wrong about what she had seen. She found Zoe was wearing an even brighter dress than hers. But that wasn't what Iris was afraid to look at. It was Zoe's face that was horrible. She looked so ugly, deformed, like it wasn't her face anymore. Even her hands looked the same way. Zoe looked like a monster. It was so grotesque and obscene, Iris couldn’t comprehend how the Beasts had turned her into this shape. It was as if they’d performed a surgery on her to make her look that way.

  "Who did this to you?" a scream escaped Iris's chest. "Did the Beasts do this to you?" she stepped forward and shook Zoe. "Why? Tell me. Why do they do this to the girls they take?"

  "Just calm down, Iris." Zoe pleaded.

  "I won't calm down. Don't be afraid of them. I will get you out of here."

  "Please, calm down." Zoe repeated.

  "Remember when you told me to avenge you as you got on the ship?” Iris said, tears flooding from her eyes. “I swear, I’ll make them pay. Just answer me. Did the Beasts do this to you?" Iris's face reddened, pondering the unimaginable possibilities. Did the Beasts envy human beauty, so they destroyed it? Were they experimenting on humans like lab rats? "Did Andre do that to you? Is that what he is going to do to me when my time comes?" Iris followed.

  "There has been a horrible war, Iris," Zoe said, tears trickling down her face. She sounded like Andre, answering a question with irrelevant thoughts.

  “What?” Iris’s puzzled pupils grew bigger.

  “A horrible war in The First,” Zoe said. “It destroyed everything on Earth. E
verything,” she stressed. “Our ancestors, the few of them who survived, were left with deficiencies, diseases, and illnesses.”

  “Why are you telling me that, Zoe?” Iris wondered.

  “It was nuclear war. The skies turned gray. The plants died. And the animals turned into sick monsters,” Zoe recited a story that seemed so important to her. “Just like the Ruins where you practiced your Pentimento.”

  "Listen to me, Zoe,” Iris shook her harder. “You’re hallucinating. They drugged you. It’s the red rose. I can help you."

  “I’m not hallucinating,” Zoe pushed her arms away, crying even harder. “Our ancestors didn’t look pretty. It was the aftermath of the radiation. They weren’t capable of bringing normal offspring to the world.”

  “Offspring?” Iris couldn’t help but finally listen to Zoe. She’d never seen Zoe so insistent on speaking her own mind. What did she mean by offspring?

  “Yes. Offspring. Us,” Zoe said. “We’ve never been cured. We’ve never been the humans we think we are. We’ve never been beautiful. We’ve always been the Beasts.”

  49

  Before Zoe could explain further, the girls in white forcefully dragged Iris back to her room. She tried her best to free herself, but they buzzed her with their weapons.

  “Ouch!” Iris cried out. The pain of their instruments were suddenly intolerable, or was it the shock of what Zoe had just told her?

  Iris couldn’t help but think that the Beasts tampered with Zoe's brain. Zoe had been susceptible to hallucinations since her accident, when she thought that Colton was one of the Beasts. But why did the Beasts hurt her so much? Why deform her this way?

  Master Andre was waiting for Iris in her chamber. The white girls bowed their heads and stood behind her as he sat on a chair, covered in a white veil.

  "Leave us alone," Andre waved his gloved hands. The girls complied immediately and left.

  "What have you done to Zoe?" Iris gritted her teeth and ran into him, hitting and kicking his tall and strong frame. Andre stood up, held her by the arms, and pushed her with her back against the wall. The green scary eyes watched her from behind the veil. Iris hated herself for continuously feeling this attraction toward him. He’d hurt all those girls and did these horrible things to their faces. He’d hurt Zoe. And Iris still felt like she wanted to crash into his arms. What kind of person was she?