Elizabeth

The Naive One

"How did you leave the canvas?" I asked her again. Even as I replayed the question in my mind, the stupidity of it hit me.

"You freed me."

Slowly, she raised her gloved hand and began stroking my unruly hair. I tried to feel her fingers but was taken aback by the contorted expression on her face.

"Why. Can"t. I. Feel. You?"

Her fingers were going right through me and this time, I could feel an undertone of anger in the lilt of her voice. She looked desperate.

"I really don"t know what is happening! You are like fluid mist", I told her, equally longing for her touch. "When you touch me, it feels like cold, liquid velvet. You are not...solid"

Her eyes looked big with tears. "Not solid, eh? That"s what you call me? I am as solid as your imaginations are."

"That you are." I was transfixed by her beauty. "I want to touch you too. I want to feel the beauty of my creation! I want to love you."

"So, my knight, won"t you tell me stories of deep sea voyages and ventures of your merchandise? How you saved many a maiden from sorcerers and monsters and how they sought your love! How you dotingly waited on returning home and falling into my arms instead!"

"I"m just an artist", I said, without conviction. "I don"t have journeys to boast of. I can only create journeys!"

I could see the frown beneath her veil. "Then create."

This time, I took her hand in mine. It was like immersing it in cold silk. She looked excited, her eyes sparkling in anticipation. I led her along the other paintings, and began to tell her their stories. Stories of the seven seas, the Lords of Boston, the crystal waters of Thames and of the minarets of Taj Mahal.

"Will you make me a mausoleum too? Like Shah Jahan?" She asked me, with a smile.

"Why not?" I felt devoid of sense. "I will make you the best there is. You are my love."

I gently moved my hands toward her face. However, no matter how much I tried, I couldn"t remove the veil. My fingers kept going through her. It was dismaying.

"Why did you bother to make me this way? The wretched veil doesn"t even let me admire you properly", she complained.

"Can"t you remove it yourself?" I asked her, frustration echoing in my voice. "I would like to see your eyes. The eyes that captivate me so."

At this suggestion, she started tinkering with the veil with utmost vigour, but it just wouldn"t budge.

The entire night, we sat close to each other, feeling the warmth of the fireplace and the cold of her touch. I told her about myself, though she already seemed to know all about me. "Your heart is at its most vulnerable when you are painting. I know you since you marked the canvas with your own blood", she told me. "I know how you have loved me."

"So I have. But you"re just my vivid imagination, not human. I can"t even touch you."

At this, she gently cupped her hand on mine. To my surprise, it wasn"t going through me as completely as earlier. She felt more solid. Her hand felt more like bleak sunshine. Not cold anymore. She looked ecstatic.

"Am I human enough for you now, my knight?"

"How? Are you any more real?" I asked, suddenly feeling more vulnerable and drained. I started seeing stars and thoughts of far and wide mausoleums started flooding my mind. A very disturbing vision of drowning in blood gripped me.

"Take my hand, James", she said, touching me again. Instantly, a surge of gloom and senselessness started engulfing me. I had a sensation that I was floating. Floating away!

"What are you...don"t, no, please..." I pleaded with her. "Stop this. No, leave my hand! What?"

I was in a trance. I pictured Elizabeth and me walking in a garden, a sweet fragrance filling up the air. I was like a ghost, trailing after her, head over heels in her fantasy. No, wait!

I was the ghost. She was the one without the aura of shimmer. What was happening?

"Your flesh and blood will rejuvenate me. Your energy will flow through my hungry veins. You will be the Virgin. I will be the one making our mausoleums! No?" Suddenly, she felt much less lovely. Much more menacing. Suddenly, I didn"t want to behold what lay beneath the veil.