Fiction
Fantasy
“I wish to commission a painting.” The man wore a black suit and a pair of silver, oval glasses. “A friend highly recommended you, citing the vivid, vibrant quality of your work.”
Reena rinsed her brush and turned to him with a smile. “I do my best. I look at things and try to do them justice. What sort of painting do you have in mind? A landscape? A portrait? A depiction of some historic event?”
The man’s tired gray eyes examined a painting of a waterfall leaning against the wall. “It appears so realistic. As though I could reach out and feel the cool mountain water rush through my fingers.” He glanced to her. “A portrait.”
“Of you or a family member?”
He shook his head. “Neither. This is a rather unusual request, I know. But I feel you will do an excellent job. If you choose to accept. And if you don’t, I will understand.”
“Who do you want me to paint?”
The man looked deep into her eyes. “The Devil.”
Dropping the rag she was using to wipe her hands off on, she knelt over to pick it up. She regarded him suspiciously with dark brown eyes.
“You heard me correctly, Miss Kinnette. I want to commission a portrait of the Devil.”
“A portrait.” Reena stood. “Of the Devil.”
“Obviously, how you choose to depict him is entirely up to you.”
She stood quietly a moment in thought, then tossed the rag on the table beside her paints. “Sure. I’ll do it. Should be an interesting challenge. Can I ask why you want this painting?”
“That’s not relevant. I am glad you have accepted. Now to seal the deal.” He held out his hand. Reena shook it. He smiled and handed her a business card: the name Mr. J. Bishop followed by a phone number. “Call me when it is finished. Good luck.”
The wall clock said it was four-thirty. She walked to the front of her studio, then out onto the front stoop for a moment. The maple trees lining her street were shades of red, yellow, and brown. A cool breeze carried with it the scent of pine and pollution. She noticed a man down the street sitting on a bench, perhaps waiting for the bus.
The man appeared to be in his early thirties. He had a pleasant face with a strong jaw and a chiseled nose. He had gold blond hair that cascaded to his broad shoulders. His dark green shirt and black pants hinted at the built body beneath.
Blushing, Reena returned to her studio. “Why can’t I get a man like that to model for me?” She hoped he had not noticed her staring.
With a deep sigh, she stretched out on the hardwood floor. Her black hair was bundled under her head to act as a pillow. She stared up at the chipped plaster ceiling. “I need to work on that commission.” She groaned. “What does the Devil look like anyway?”
Various movie depictions of the Devil flooded her mind. She sat up and grabbed her sketchpad and box of pencils. She began to scrawl out various rendering of demons and other horrors. Among them were a vampire and a horned satyr. She stared at the several pages of sketches she had drawn and moaned. None of them felt right. She laid the pad and pencils down and rested her chin on her knees. “This is going to be a challenge.”
“We all need challenges from time to time.”
Reena jerked her head up to see the man she had seen down the street standing in the doorway. He was even more charming in person. He had deep blue eyes that reminded her off an evening sky just before the stars appeared.
He glanced at his watch. “Are you still open?”
She stood and dusted herself off. “For a little while, at least. What can I do for you?”
“A portrait.”
“You wish to commission one?”
“Actually, you have already been commissioned. How is it coming along?” He smiled and let the door close behind him.
“You’re a friend of Mr. Bishop’s?”
“The portrait is something of a curiosity for me. You have to agree it is an interesting subject. So, have you had much luck with it?”
She felt at ease in his presence. “Actually, I’m still trying to develop an identity for the Devil. There have been numerous depictions and yet none of them feel quite right to me.”
“You seem to be something of a perfectionist, trying to get details exact.” He took a few steps forward. “Perhaps I can help.”
“I suppose.” Reena was at ease looking at his gleaming smile. She waved him to the rear of her studio she designated as her ‘living room.’ “Could I fix you some coffee, or tea?”
“Coffee is fine.” He took a seat on the black leather couch. As she headed to the kitchen, he looked around at the studio. It was sparsely decorated, but a bookcase showed often-read books, and family photos hung on the walls.
Beside an easel, a young man appeared, staring intently at the man seated on the couch. “I am watching. Tread carefully.” He folded his arms over his chest.
The man seated on the couch inclined his head to the new arrival. “I have His permission to be here. She is in no danger.”
Reena returned, carrying two mugs. Oblivious to the presence of the young man by the easel, she handed a mug to the man seated on the couch and joined him.
“Thank you.” He took a sip, then cradled the mug in both hands. “Now, perhaps I can assist you with your challenge. Why do none of the renderings you’ve seen feel right to you?”
“A portrait is so much easier when I have someone to sit for it.” Reena took a sip, and thought a moment. “This may sound silly, but I don’t want to paint the Devil wrong. You know, make him angry.” She gave a little chuckle. “Think me crazy, but I know he’s real. The perfectionist in me wants him here with me so that I can get all the details just right, but he’s the last being I want to face.”
The man seated on the couch nodded in understanding. He blew on his coffee, then took a sip. He waited for her to continue.
“The popular image of the red man with horns just doesn’t work for me.”
“Then you are brighter than most.” He regarded her with those intense deep blue eyes. “If you do not feel you can depict him specifically, can you identify or render his nature?”
Reena averted her eyes, her cheeks slightly pink. “He’s a fallen angel. The keeper of Hell. He fights for the souls of man, reveling in our failure when we sin.”
“What is sin?”
“Sin is a bad thing that often looks good until you do it.” She looked at him. “They can be small or large, but all create a barrier between us and God. Sin brings us closer to the Devil. He tempts us and enjoys when we succumb.”
The man on the couch drained his remaining coffee. “It sounds like you may have sufficient information to confront your challenge.” He handed her his empty mug and stood. “Thank you for the coffee. I wish you a good evening and success with the portrait.”
Reena sat the mugs on the table beside the couch. “Thank you, sir. I don’t believe I caught your name?”
“Good evening, Miss Kinnette.” He gave her a final look, stared briefly toward her easel, then left the studio. The door shut behind him.
The receding light shone on the autumn leaves. The man in the green shirt stood unnoticed beside the front window.
“Why did you see her?” It was the young man who had been beside the easel. White-blond ringlets framed his face. His icy blue eyes stared at him intently.
“Ah, Darius. Ever protective of his wards.” He smiled pleasantly. “I thought I could help her with her challenge. I had His permission.”
Darius looked from him to Reena inside. “I do not understand Him, but it is not my place to question.”
“And ever the obedient and loyal servant.” The man in green turned away from the red brick building that housed Reena’s studio. “I can see why you are one of His favorites.” Without looking back, he walked down the street. As the darkness deepened, he gradually faded into the shadows.
Waiting until the man had left, Darius watched Reena from the window. He was always pleased to see her use her talents. With other appointments to keep, he turned and vanished.
With morning light flooding into her studio, Reena stood at her easel. Lost in inspiration, she dabbed her brush in white and paled the face.
The man in green and Darius stood unnoticed behind her. They watched as the painting took shape. Reena continued to blend colors and apply layers to the canvas, unaware of their presence.
With great interest, the man in green watched her. He watched her long fingers use the brush as an extension of herself. She stood tall and straight as she painted, her long braid swaying as she shifted her weight. She concentrated on rendering the model she could see with her mind’s eye.
For hours, she labored. From time to time she added red to her pallet or mixed yellow into the peach and white. The painting evolved. Colors blended and shapes gained depth. The painting seemed to live, as it was a window to another place rather than simple paint on canvas. At long last, it was complete.
“I am satisfied.” The man in green took a final look at the solution Reena had come to for her challenge. “She certainly has a talent.”
“Yes, she does.” Darius stood, arms crossed over his chest.
The man in green smiled. “I can see why you are so protective of her. Imagine what she could do if she followed me.”
Darius stared back.
With a chuckle, the man in green walked away, fading before he reached the front window.
With a deep sigh, Reena cleaned her brushes. “Finally done.” She went to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a mug. She sat at the couch, sipping coffee, staring at the portrait as it dried.
“I suppose you would like to see it.” Reena led Mr. Bishop to the easel where the portrait sat covered.
“Yes.” Mr. Bishop wiped his glasses on a handkerchief. “I must admit I had been greatly anticipating your call.”
With feigned flourish, she removed the cloth from the portrait.
Gasping, Mr. Bishop looked in the face of the Devil. “What beauty,” he whispered. “I could not have possibly imagined your depiction. And it is so realistic.”
The Devil stood in a darkened library and held a candle. His shoulder-length, golden hair cascaded over broad shoulders. Red flames danced in his electric blue eyes. His silk shirt was dark green. His lips were turned up into an eerie, personal smile. A slight breeze played with his hair and caused the candle flame to flicker. Reena had signed the piece in the upper right corner.
“What inspired you?” Mr. Bishop regarded her expectantly.
“A conversation. The Devil is charming. Why else would he have so many followers? He uses sin to entrap us, and sin can be very appealing. It’s after sinning that we can choose repentance. But once the sin has been committed, he has a good grasp on us. I wanted to show that deceitful beauty.”
Mr. Bishop nodded absently as he continued to stare at the portrait. “It is indeed a masterpiece. Miss Kinnette. You have far exceeded my expectations.”
“Thank you.” Reena felt that perhaps the Devil looked back at her from the canvas. “I did my best. I wanted to get it right, and I think I did. It’s a portrait of the Devil.”
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Copyright 2009, Darla J. Bowen. All rights reserved. Darla J. Bowen graduated from the School for Creative and Performing Arts in Cincinnati, Ohio in 1999, where her focus had been in Creative Writing. In 2003, she received a BA in History from the College of Mount St. Joseph. Her minor was in Written Communications. In 2008 she received a Graduate Certificate in Women's Studies. Her first publications will be appearing soon; "Duties" in Flash Scribe, "For Honor" in Lorelei Signal, and "Into the Fray" in Bards and Sages Quarterly.
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