Hope To Escape (3 page)

CHAPTER TWO

It took less time than Ess expected to execute an excursion to La Donne on 5th. The next day, in fact, she found herself reluctantly dragged into a taxi van with four of her friends. Manda, of course, was present; Jill and Lisa, too. Beth came to be moral support for her friend who was being forced into something she appeared to dread; but also, out of her own curiosity.

The cab ride from 78th street to 5th avenue would be a long one, and the car reeked badly of cigarette smoke and, what was that? Garlic? Sickening stench. It didn't help Ess's stomach, which already churned because of the oddness of her current situation. She sat in the front seat, and tuned out the excited
chatter
amongst her friends by pondering her circumstances.

So far, her life had been uneventful. She had always been a quiet girl. Never popular, but never an outsider, she just floated her way through high school without much notice. Afterward, she attended college, and earned a communications degree. She never tapped into a special skill or talent, and had no job offers waiting for her after she finished college. She hunted for work like all the other average people with a standard education and little experience, and found an opportunity with a hospitality company, where she became a project manager. The pay was barely decent for a single girl who didn't live extravagantly, but it got her through from month to month. She unhappily found that she had to be on the telephone seven out of ten hours each day. At first, her shyness made her job difficult, but she did what she had to do, and eventually, became passive to it.

Esther understood her life to be unexceptional. She dreamed of making it more, but lacked the ability and know-how to go about it. So, she waited for change. What kind of change, though, she didn't know.

People probably don't even know just how ordinary and miniscule they are until a life-altering experience occurs. Then, their small lives may become interesting, possibly scary. Ess wondered if she would be able to handle any changes that could disrupt the fragile balance of her existence.

She thought it must be that people who actually did great things were driven. They did things not simply by chance, but by will and by choice. When an event occured in life, they stood on the precipice of life-altering decisions, and had two directions they could go: leap into the unknown, or back away into their small, safe lives. Walking along this precipice only stalled for time and left a person vulnerable to outside forces that could push or pull them in either direction without their consent. They had to act quickly so that the decision could be their own.

And all around, in every direction – regrets! But Ess once heard that more painful were the regrets of what we didn't do in life, than of what we did do.

Ess waited, Ess stalled for time, Ess regretted. She berated and she chided herself for not doing or at least searching for something better in life. She was disappointed, but secure in her unimportant existence.

Her mind wandered and twisted on the subject. At any length, it shortened the cab ride, and distracted her from the smell. They arrived at La Donne on 5th, and the five friends divvied up the cost to the driver.

Ess's recent train of thought left her dejected, and now came a moment that would most likely make her feel worse. Someone out there deemed her worthy to be immortalized in art. She would now have to discover for herself what that meant.

* * *

The interior of La Donne on 5th was an expansive modern minimalist design, with exposed beams, pipes and air ducts, and blue white lighting. Near the entrance there were skylights, but the dreary overcast morning did nothing to add illumination. The walls were high, and painted a uniform shade of pale blue. The only furniture in the room were a few strategically placed white washed cement benches in odd shapes. For all Ess knew, the benches may have been part of the art displays, because there were a fair number of people in the gallery, and no one was sitting on them. Maybe Ess wasn't the only one who questioned if they were really for seating or were part of the artwork.

"The funny thing is," Manda reflected to her friends, "this simple décor probably took the designer months to accomplish." The comment effectively made her friends laugh.

"Okay," started Jill, "Let's see who can spot Essy's mystery man's artwork first."

Oh great, thought Ess, now they were making
a
game out of it. Better and better. Let's play with Essy's little life. She shuddered, less sure then ever if she wanted to see herself captured forever motionless in stone.

"Oh, oh, oh," cried Lisa, "statues in the rear." Sure enough, multiple stationary bodies were positioned on white pedestals in the back of the room. The four friends rushed towards them, but Ess made her way across the room slowly, her stomach turning in tighter knots with every step that drew her closer.

Her breathing became shallow; and she could feel her heart as it beat in her chest, through her temples, and in the palm of her hands. It was very similar to the feeling she got before, during and after any speeches she had ever been forced to give in high school – or college for that matter. She had never gotten used to it. But now she felt this nervousness from the notion that someone, unbeknownst to her, had modeled a whole collection of art after her.

She didn't
look
at the statues as she made her way to the display. Instead, she stared at her feet; aware of each step she took. It was silly that this situation made her so uneasy, but nevertheless, her nerves were on end.

Ess couldn't understand why she didn't feel the curious excitement that her friends felt. Who wouldn't be honored to be a subject of some artist's renderings? Who wouldn't be flattered? Oddly enough, Ess had to admit that she felt neither honored nor flattered. What she felt was anxiety. She wasn't used to being noticed, to being the center of attention; and now that she was, she didn't like it. Better to be the observer, than the observed in her opinion.

As she walked on, she knew that, eventually, she would have to look up. When she did, what met her eyes made her shiver. It was her. Or rather, they were her. There were several of them.

The first one was a white chalky plaster-like stone; and the lighting in the gallery made it glow almost incandescent. The figure looked rather angelic. All it lacked was a halo and feathery wings. It showed Ess as a child, and the title "Exquisite Esther" appeared on the sign plate at the statue's foot. The child statue's hands were cupped together and stretched outward, as though it were offering the observer something, but there was nothing in the hollows of its palms. If Ess stood right in front of it, it smiled good-naturedly and looked as though it bestowed its benevolence directly on her. All together, it was magnificent and unsettling.

After
a
moment, Ess stopped gawking at this peculiar white youth with its familiar features, and turned to the next stone statue. There, once again, her own face stood before her. It was a bust, which extended from just above the line of the breast, slightly larger than her actual head. The figure seemed young, but not
a
child. The stone looked like pale blue quartz, and lent itself well to the subject of the work. The young adult was weeping, obvious by the gentle touch of its fingers frozen in time as it attempted to wipe a tear from its cheek. Its eyes were closed, and brow slightly furrowed. The faintest pull downward of either end of the mouth conveyed its sorrow. Ess observed it until the gravity of the melancholy seeped into her. She felt as though a tear would well up and fall down her own cheek. "Inconsolable Esther". The grief of the work made her turn away.

She stepped over to the next piece, positioned near a turn that went into
a
deeper room of the gallery. This one made her smile. It was an adult version of Esther. The fact that the likeness uncannily had her face did not concern her as much, because the hair was long and wavy, where her own was just below shoulder length and chemically straightened to rid her of her bothersome curls. It had been that way for years, so the very idea that the artist may have possibly stalked her and knew what she really looked like didn't seem so likely.

This statue was a full body work, just like the first, but smaller than a true adult. Ess decided that it must be some kind of soapstone. As for the subject of the piece, it seemed . . . pensive? The brows were arched in such a way, and the pointer finger of its right hand was lightly touching its chin, as though it was captured in mid-contemplation. The inscription read "Inquisitive Esther". Ess wasn't sure why, but this one made her giggle a little. She couldn't imagine that she ever really looked like that while in the middle of a thought. She could linger longer at this statue, because it didn't
affect
her as much as the previous two.

Finally, she moved on to see if there were any others in the collection. Situated around the corner, the last one was a little removed from the rest, so she didn't notice the final theme until she approached it. Upon taking in the sight, Ess exhaled sharply and could not force herself to take in more air. Lounging on a raw unfinished stone slab was an adult Esther in black stone. What sent Ess into stunned distress was the state of the statue. It was naked.

Looking very modest and unsure, it rather unsuccessfully covered its breasts and nether-regions with its hands and arms. It looked down through half closed lids rather than gazing at the observer, ashamed to be witnessed in such a state. Ess didn't know rather she should be embarrassed at seeing herself lifeless in the nude, or if she should be ashamed of spying on the ashamedly naked. Either way, she became dizzy with the situation and her sudden inability to inhale.

Ess felt a hand on her shoulder, to which she responded by re-establishing her breathing, though shallow and quick.

"Ess?" Beth whispered in her ear. Ess didn't
regain
complete lucidity, but she was able to reduce her focus on the horror in front of her. Beth kept her hand on Ess, and stared at the statue astounded, as well.

After her initial shock, which lasted nearly a minute, Ess came back to herself with a gasp. "Oh, my god" she breathed, "We have to go."

Around her, Ess's friends stood, awestruck amusement on their faces.

"Wow!" Manda exclaimed. She kept her eyes on the nude piece, but slid frequent glances towards Ess to gauge her reaction. It seemed that she found this entertaining.

"We have to go!" Ess restated with as much force as she could muster.

"Why?" Lisa exclaimed. She wasn't being mischievous or devious. She simply didn't understand Ess's feelings under the circumstances.

Jill, however, caught on to Ess's distress. "OK, let's get going," she agreed. "I could really use
a
coffee."

"What?" Manda affected
a
fake innocence. "We just got here."

"And now we are done." Jill pushed Manda's shoulder, and grabbed Ess's arm to head towards the door.

Just then, another observer exclaimed, "Whoa. Hey. Is it me, or do you look a lot like the faces on these statues?"

No! Ess thought as the horror of that question stopped her dead in her tracks. This couldn't get any worse. At least, she hoped it couldn't get any worse.

The observer's companion added, "Hey, yeah, she does a bit." Then he turn to ask Ess, half jokingly, "Are you the artist's model?"

"She is, in fact," Manda answered for her. The old adage 'with friends like you, who needs enemies?' popped into Ess's head just then.

The two observers began to direct questions to Ess, which she would not have deigned to answer even if she could actually pay attention. Her mind turned to the exit door. She needed to escape this nightmarish situation.

Hmmm, she thought. She pinched herself, and looked to see if she was standing there in her underwear – just in case it really was only a nightmare. The pinch hurt, and the jeans she slid into that morning were present, so she couldn't have been dreaming. And it didn't matter that she in fact had clothes on, because the statue showed it all off for her anyway.

Although Ess didn't pay attention to the observers' questions, Manda did a good job at answering them for her. "No, she has no idea who the guy is. They met briefly when they were children, and now he carves nude statues of her. Freaky, right?" Manda actually seemed to be flirting with these guys.