Pentimento: a dystopian Beauty and the Beast (20 page)

"Pentimento is an old art," Andre said, walking away from her, checking out some of the other paintings, discarding her questions. "I like to work here for hours. It clears my mind in so many ways."

She wasn't going to comment on the “clearing his mind” part. And she wasn’t going to push for answers she knew weren’t easy to get. Seriously, she had enough. She was rather interested in an ugly Beast who practiced Pentimento. She had to stick around until he spilled out the truth. Iris needed to find the Beast’s weakness.

"Are you trying to convince me you actually practice this art?" Iris said.

"Why would you doubt that? Because I’m ugly?"

"Why? Are you kidding me? It's prohibited by the Beasts. If you practice it, how can you make it illegal on Earth?"

"It’s a bit too soon to talk about that," Andre considered. "I was hoping you'd ask me something else."

"Like what?" Iris sighed.

"Like what I like about it. Why I do it." He had a point, Iris thought. She let him continue. He sounded passionate about it. "When I was a kid, an old Master once told me a peculiar story about the continent of America when it was first discovered."

"America? You mean The First United States of America?" She found herself asking one question after another, clueless to Andre's vague stories, and his habit of answer a question with a question--or some other irrelevant story.

"It wasn't called The First at the time. It's a name humans made up later. But if you prefer to call it that, be my guest," he nodded.

"Okay. What about America?"

"America was originally inhabited by Red Indians, the original locals of the land, a very, very long time ago," Andre laced his hands behind his back as he circled her. He wore white gloves, so she couldn't see his hands.

"Then a man called Christopher Columbus, if I remember right, discovered it by chance, as he sailed across the oceans."

"Really?" Iris thought Cody, Colton, and Zoe would like to hear this story, if they were here. This was a story about The First before it became The Second, a story told by the Beasts, who ruled the world and owned the key and knowledge to what really happened in the past. "I've never heard this before. Go on." She welcomed his story.

"The Indians were a primitive nation. They lived in tents called ‘teepees,’ and ate directly from the products of the earth. They loved their lives as they were, and thought that was all there was. Never had they even pondered the thought of sailing the ocean and discovering the world beyond the tides. The ocean was their world's end," Andre said. "But then, when Columbus first arrived in his ships, something incredibly unexpected happened."

Iris was all ears, all eyes, with heart and soul. There was nothing more exciting than knowing who her ancestors were. That’s why her father had taught her the Pentimento, in hopes to know who they really were someday. Why Andre lied about the Fragonard being in their possession all this time, still didn't make sense. "What happened?" she wondered.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Andre said. "Because you need a really clear mind to imagine it."

"Enough with the clear mind thing," she said. "I am a big girl. I am handling you. Tell me the story."

"Alright," Andre said. "What happened is that the Red Indians didn't see the ships."

"Are you kidding me? The ships sailing the ocean must have been huge. Ah, you mean Columbus had some kind of technology that could make these ships invisible, right?"

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."

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 not 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.