Twice Upon a Soul

by Deborah R Stigall

  “Fine…just fine. I’ve got electricity in the house now,” he announced proudly. Seizing on this tidbit of information to share, he straightened in the seat. “I’ve even moved into it permanently now…since it’s pretty much livable downstairs anyway.”

  “Wow,” Taylor replied with surprise. “You’ve really gotten a lot done in the past couple of weeks.”

  “Well, other then working…I haven’t had anything else to occupy my time.” Chandler flinched at the bitterness of his words, escaping before he could bite them back.

  Her gaze dropping to her hands, Taylor remained silent. As she twisted the handkerchief between her fingers, she wondered what had ever possessed her to get in his car in the first place. Chandler was obviously still quite hurt and she couldn’t even begin to categorize her emotional state at this time.

  “I’m sorry…Taylor. That was unfair,” Chandler apologized quietly.

  “That’s okay, Chandler. I guess you could say we’ve both been through a lot these past couple of weeks.” Taylor smiled weakly...still staring down into her lap.

  Changing the subject, as well as trying to satisfy his own curiosity, Chandler cleared his throat, heading the car toward Mattie’s section of town at a slightly faster pace. “Uhhmm, did you..uh..ever find out any more about the painting?” he finally asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he instantly wondered whether this was a safe topic of conversation or not.

  Taylor’s face brightening, she replied, “So far I haven’t been able to identify the man in the portrait, but I do believe my contact in New York and I have possibly narrowed down who the artist might be.”

  Nodding in approval, Chandler asked, “If you know the artist, you should eventually be able to identify the man…right?”

  Grimacing slightly at the unfavorable reality she preferred not to face, Taylor responded hesitantly, “Not necessarily…I’m afraid there are lots of works out there that have lost their identities throughout the course of time.”

  Idly patting her hand, Chandler reassured Taylor with a smile. “If I know you…when it comes to works of art…you’ll find what you’re seeking…one way or another.”

  Tensing at Chandler’s friendly gesture, Taylor was slightly surprised at how quickly they arrived at Mattie’s house. As they came to a rolling stop, the awkward silence once again resurfaced as Chandler shut off the car. Reaching over to peck him gently on the cheek, Taylor patted Chandler’s arm, “Thank you for the ride, Chandler…take care of yourself, okay?” She smiled sadly, her eyes refilling with tears.

  The sight of Taylor’s lovely face, red-eyed and filled with anguish was more then Chandler could take. Quickly sliding across the seat, he gathered her up into his arms. Cradling her gently against his chest, he drew a ragged breath. “I love you, Taylor…if you need me, you know where to find me.” Closing his eyes against the pain in his heart, he buried his face in her hair.

  Clutching him tightly against her, Taylor closed her eyes, fiercely fighting to blink back the tears. It would be so easy to give in right now, so easy not to be alone. But later on, when her grieving was over, then what? It wouldn’t be fair to Chandler or her to trust her emotions right now. She had to remain alone until she was sure. “It’s going to be all right, Chandler…one way or another…I know it’s going to be all right. But I still won’t be seeing you for awhile. You know it’s for the best,” she whispered tearfully against his throat.

  Gently kissing the top of her head, Chandler released her from his embrace, sadly wiping one of her tears from her cheek and bringing it to his lips. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered. Turning back to the steering wheel as Taylor opened the door, Chandler stared blindly straight ahead as Taylor retreated into the house.

  Chapter Four

  “Well, it’s about time you got here,” Taylor gently scolded, as Mattie came skittering into the room. “I thought you were going to come by earlier….did you have an emergency reading or something?”

  “I was on the phone with Motheeeerrrrr…need I say more?” Mattie replied, wrinkling her nose in a grimace of displeasure. “By the way, she says hello and if you need anything, you’re to call her…I’m also supposed to tell you they’ve made a sizable donation to the museum in remembrance of your mother and she wants to know if they got her card.” Mattie dutifully recited the words as she rolled her eyes at her parent’s need for recognition.

  “Yes…the museum got it and it was quite generous, Mattie, you should be proud.” Taylor smiled at the thought of the new wing of the gallery to be constructed and named after her mother. “I already sent a personal thank you card to her but I’m sure the museum will be sending one as well….In fact, they’ll probably want your parents to attend the ribbon cutting ceremony upon it’s completion.”

  “Oh great,” Mattie replied scornfully. “That’s the type of thing they absolutely live for…now can we please change the subject? Why did you ask me to come by?” Rambling as she wandered about the workroom, Mattie determinedly put the phone conversation with her over-bearing mother to the back of her mind.

  “Well, I’ve come up with another angle I’d like to pursue in finding the name of my friend here.” Gesturing to the handsome figure staring back at her from his position on her easel, Taylor took a deep breath as she folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve removed a few layers of debris from the canvas, x-rayed it, put the black light to it and performed every other test I can think of…my last resort is talking to whoever you bought this work from and tracking its origins physically.” Shrugging her shoulders, she idly tapped her chin as she slowly circled the portrait. “Once Avery clued me in on the artist…I was able to find Sir Joshua’s signature under the debris, but that still doesn’t identify our handsome Scotsman…this particular work of Sir Joshua Reynolds seems to be virtually unknown.”

  Mattie eyed the canvas with interest, running her fingers lightly along the edges. “The vendor’s fair is open today,” she mused aloud. “But are we going to have to haul it around with us? I’m not really sure which booth I found it in….or even if the same vendor will still be there.” Gesturing at the awkward size of the canvas with wide flourishing movements, Mattie’s rattling bracelets avidly punctuated every word.

  “Never fear,” Taylor responded proudly, “I remembered to bring my camera…we can take a couple of shots from different angles, then take the photos with us when we start our sleuthing.”

  Pulling the camera from her desk, Taylor double-checked the film counter to ensure she’d loaded the film cartridge correctly. Stepping back from the canvas, Taylor took careful aim. Centering the handsome warrior’s face in the frame of the viewfinder, she pressed the button. The light flashed and the camera quietly whirred as the photograph spit neatly from the slot. Dropping the snapshot to the desktop, Taylor took aim from another angle, shooting and dropping the next photo to develop alongside the first.

  Mattie scooted Taylor’s chair closer to the desk, propping her chin in one hand while she lightly drummed the desk with the fingers of the other. “How long will it take?” she idly asked, watching the colors slowly form and take shape as the chemicals developed the image.

  “We’ll have our photos in no time,” Taylor promised, turning one of the pictures to watch as it slowly developed.

  Picking up the other photo remaining on the desk, Mattie brought it near her face. Frowning as she examined it closer, she tilted her head in concern. “Something’s wrong with this one Taylor…are you sure that film was still good?”

  Checking the photo cradled in her own hand, Taylor frowned at the completely developed picture. The center of the snapshot, where the canvas should have shown, was a glowing white cloud, completely void of color as though it were an extraordinarily bright light. The border of the photo developed correctly, other items in the room were just the right color, the lines sharp and true to form. Walking behind Mattie, Taylor glanced over Mattie’s shoulder to see how the other picture had turned out. The photo i
n Mattie’s hand was identical to the one in Taylor’s palm, only displaying items around the edges of the picture at the slightly different angle that Taylor had moved to before snapping the second shot.

  “But I just bought this film,” Taylor argued. “I even checked the date on the box and everything.” Digging the carton out of the trashcan, Taylor located the imprinted expiration date on the side of the empty film box. Huffing in exasperation, she tapped the side of the box. “It says it’s good for another six months!”

  A strange look crossed Mattie’s face as she reached for the camera. “Can I see it a minute, Taylor?” she asked, in a thoughtful tone.

  “Sure,” Taylor replied, handing the camera to Mattie. Her curiosity piqued at her friend’s suddenly quiet air, Taylor watched Mattie expectantly.

  Before Taylor realized what she was doing, Mattie quickly pointed the camera in her direction and shot, snapping an impromptu photo of her bewildered friend. Placing the picture in the middle of the desk, both women leaned close, anxious to see what the picture would reveal about the condition of the film. Taylor was positive she must’ve loaded some bad film into the camera, but Mattie was looking for something else. As the snapshot completed the final phase of developing, there lay a perfect image of Taylor; mouth opened in surprise at finding herself the subject of the camera. No white clouds, no shimmering edges, just the usual fine colors of the well-developed photograph her camera had always made.

  A mysterious smile playing across her face, Mattie picked the camera back up, preparing to try the film one more time to prove out her theory. “Go stand over by the canvas, Taylor,” she instructed with a nod of her head.

  Frowning at the direction this photo shoot was taking, Taylor still did as Mattie requested. Standing next to the canvas without a smile, she grudgingly awaited the flash.

  Mattie brought the picture to her as soon as the camera spit it out. The two stood closely together, heads nearly touching as they watched the colors take form. Once again, the image of Taylor was perfect as was the room and the articles surrounding her. But the flash of white once more obliterated the portion of the photograph where the portrait should have been displayed, along with a thin stream of white clouding as lightly encircling Taylor’s body. It was almost as if the formless white aura was somehow trying to embrace Taylor.

  “Okay, Mattie…I think we’re dabbling in your area of expertise again.” Her stomach rolling uneasily as she nervously tapped at the photos spread across the desk. “We can’t photograph the painting…so…what is that supposed to mean?” Her voice trembled as she spoke; the hairs slowly rising on the back of her neck as a shiver ran down her spine.

  Mattie approached the painting carefully, softly caressing the jawline of the dark man with the steadfast stare. Narrowing her eyes, she examined it closer, shaking her head slowly as she continued lightly brushing her hand over the surface of the canvas. “I don’t know for sure what it means, Taylor,” she whispered as she turned from the painting. “But I feel a sense of urgency whenever I look into his face. It’s as though he’s trying to tell us something…or ask us something. Either way, we’ve got to find out who he is, Taylor…for his sake...as well as yours.”

  ~*~

  Taylor nervously tapped the steering wheel as she waited for the light to change. Glancing into the rearview mirror, the sight of the portrait propped up in the backseat gave her the uncanny sensation that the man within the picture was watching over her shoulder.

  Huffing through pursed lips, Taylor returned her glare to the light, wondering if the infernal thing was ever going to change. Finally getting the signal, Taylor pulled into the traffic, heading the car down the interstate toward the other side of town. Eyes returning to her rearview mirror, she finally shook her head. “Mattie, why didn’t you put that thing in the trunk?”

  Surprised at her friend’s nervous outburst, Mattie replied with a slight smile, “Well that would’ve been kind of rude…don’t you think?” She turned, jauntily propping an elbow against the back of the seat, casting a conspiratorial wink at the subject in the oil painting.

  Eyes narrowing, Taylor shot Mattie an evil glare but remained silent as she steered the car deeper into the traffic.

  Turning back in her seat so she was once again facing the front of the car, Mattie glanced uneasily in Taylor’s direction. “Chandler called me today…he asked me how you were doing,” She watched Taylor closely, unsure whether to broach the subject or not.

  Keeping her eyes on the road, Taylor quietly responded, “And what did you tell him?”

  Fiddling with the crystal hanging on the ribbon about her neck, Mattie rubbed the beveled edge of it against her lower lip. “I told him I thought you were doing okay…I also suggested he might call you instead of me the next time he was curious about your welfare.”

  Grinning sadly as she slowly shook her head, Taylor tilted it thoughtfully to one side. “I’ve hurt him too much, Mattie…dilly-dallied around with his feelings too long.”

  Mattie continued idly wrapping and unwrapping the ribbon of her necklace around her finger; her forehead wrinkling into a frown as she glanced up at Taylor’s face. “He just seems so nice…Taylor. I know it’s not in the stones for you two, but why do you think it didn’t work out?”

  Shrugging one shoulder as she mulled over the past three years with Chandler, Taylor finally attempted to explain. “He was just too…normal…I guess.”

  At Mattie’s bewildered expression, Taylor gave it another shot. “There was no excitement…no fire to our relationship. Mattie, it was as though we had been married forever and had already settled into a rut. He was just so….predictable,” she finished lamely, hoping that somehow, Mattie would understand.

  Mattie crossed her arms over her chest, pondering Taylor’s words. “Well, you know Taylor, comfortable…predictable…reliable…those aren’t exactly bad qualities.”

  “They’re great qualities…Mattie…but what about the passion, the excitement, the fire?” Taylor asked, glancing at her friend in earnest. “If you don’t have those things at the beginning of the relationship, I don’t see how they can develop on down the line.”

  Slowly nodding her head, Mattie grudgingly agreed. “I understand what you’re saying…did you even love him.”

  Her shoulders slumping in defeat, Taylor shook her head sadly. “I don’t love him exactly…I’m fond of him…that’s what makes this all so difficult. The problem is I don’t love him enough to throw away this need I have to be overwhelmed…swept off my feet…romanced. It wouldn’t be fair to myself or to Chandler if I just settled for reliable and comfortable, had a house full of babies and gradually grew to hate him for never making me feel…special. I just feel like there’s something more waiting for me out there…something that I’m missing.” Glancing over at her friend as she eased the car into the parking lot of the vendor’s fair, Taylor forlornly asked, “I guess that makes me kind of selfish…or crazy…do you think?”

  Smiling at Taylor as she undid her seatbelt, Mattie reached over, gently patting her friend’s shoulder. “Not selfish at all…you just finally know what you want and you’re willing to wait for it.”

  Opening the door to retrieve the painting from the back seat, Taylor grunted as she pulled the canvas out of the car. “I just hope I don’t have to wait forever,” she muttered, her gaze falling to the man staring back at her. As she looked into the icy blue eyes, she felt her heart flutter nervously, uneasily experiencing the strangest sensation as though a hand had touched her cheek. Looking closer at the painting, Taylor noticed the warrior’s hand; the fist that had been resting against his thigh, was now open…held out in a subtle invitation, his fingers carefully extended in her direction.

  “Mattie…come here and look at this!” Taylor exclaimed, nearly dropping the canvas as she fell against the car.

  Hurriedly rushing around the car in response to the agitation in Taylor’s voice, Mattie peered over her shoulder studying the portrait Taylor
held between her trembling hands. “What is it?” she asked. Immediately noticing the difference as Taylor silently directed her eyes to the hand, her breath caught in her throat. Relaxed as the palm was held open now, the hand was outstretched and beseeching in its gesture of invitation.

  “Come on.” Grabbing Taylor by the arm as she slammed the car door shut, Mattie pulled Taylor toward an alley in the opposite direction of the fair. “We’ve got to go talk to Drake. Forget the guy that I bought this from!”

  “Drake?” Taylor asked. Struggling to keep up with Mattie without dropping the awkward painting bouncing at her side, Taylor eyed the surrounding alley nervously…wondering what Mattie was up to this time.

  “If anybody can help us…Drake can,” Mattie replied mysteriously.

  ~*~

  “Slow down, Mattie…I can barely keep up with you…this portrait is catching every gust of wind.” Taylor repositioned the portrait for the hundredth time, glancing around the canvas to find Mattie several strides ahead of her. Abandoning the idea of questioning the vendor that had sold Mattie the painting; they had turned instead to head their way up the street to an older part of town. Mattie had been quite cryptic in suggesting they consult this Drake person, and Taylor was beginning to wonder if this was really such a great idea.

  “We’re nearly there, Taylor, come on and quit complaining…you’re the same size as I am except about twenty pounds lighter so you should be able to keep up with me with no problem.” Mattie huffed her way down the alley, her cheeks rosy with the exertion.

  Turning down yet another alley, Taylor was beginning to wonder if they’d ever find their way back out of this maze of buildings. Following Mattie blindly down the alleyway, Taylor nearly ran over her when Mattie finally came to an abrupt halt.

  “Here we are,” she announced proudly, gesturing to the ornately stained glass door with her usual flourish. Holding the door open for Taylor, she glanced at her friend with an expression of expectancy. “Well….go on in,” she urged, impatiently nudging Taylor’s elbow.