They are in the Louvre. To be specific, they’re standing in front of the Mona Lisa. Kilney does not really understand what they’re doing here – or how they got here, to begin with, the last he checked he did not have a passport – but he realizes that as long as he’s with Ramshackle, logic is something he’ll have to leave outside the house. Where sane people are going about their life.
It is one of the first questions he asks Ramshackle. How time flows if he’s inside the house. He does not want to spend thirty minutes inside only to find out that the outside world has lived a year. But Ramshackle assures him that time does not work that way. Before he can ask more questions on the house, Ramshackle transports them here.
“We’re living someone’s twenty-four hours,” says Ramshackle by way of explanation.
“Does that mean…”
He doesn’t need to complete his question. Ramshackle says, “No, these aren’t Gimble’s hours. I do not foresee that viewing doing you any good.”
Kilney wants to offer a token protest but he doesn’t. He really does not want to see how she spent her last twenty-four hours. “Is this supposed to teach me something?”
Ramshackle smiles. “Just observe.”
On that cryptic, unhelpful note, Kilney turns to the scene in front of him.
He has obviously never been to the Louvre but he has seen pictures. So, he’s quite sure that the painting is not just hanging in mid-air, on a black wall with no cordon around it. He says as much to Ramshackle who makes no response.
Rolling his eyes, Kilney goes back to observing.
Someone is sitting in front of the Mona Lisa. The way they’re sitting tells Kilney they’re on the floor. He does not think the actual Louvre would allow that. The person is in a brown coat and a tweed hat. That’s all he can see from this angle.
He wants to move for a closer look but since Ramshackle is just standing there, not moving, he tries to reign in his curiosity. He hasn’t been told what the rules of engagement are so decides to err on the side of caution. He doesn’t know how long they stand there before the scene changes.
Now, it’s a man with a knife. He takes a running start before plunging it through Mona Lisa’s left eye. He then starts to gently and methodically rip it apart.
Sweat breaks out on Kilney’s forehead.
“This man’s wife was obsessed with the Mona Lisa. She used to say that she was her long-lost lover and she needed to go to the painting and tear it to release her trapped spirit. She wrote the Louvre many letters. I suppose they’re used to such things so they didn’t pay it any mind. After his wife died, he came to me.”
Kilney swallows. “He thinks he’s freeing his wife’s lover’s spirit? You’re joking!”
Ramshackle shrugs.
The scene changes again. This time there’s a young woman in jeans and a tartan shirt. She has a paper and pen on the floor in front of her. She’s kneeling, using the pen to take measurements.
Since Ramshackle does not stop him, he goes forward. He expects the girl’s painting to be either beautiful or rubbish. But he does not expect there to be a face that looks like an egg with two circles that he supposes are eyes, a short straight line for a nose and a simple curved line to depict a mouth.
He’s thunderstruck at how bad the picture is.
The scene changes once again. This time it’s a young boy who is dancing in front of the painting. A faint, boyish voice says, “See mama, I’m dancing.”
Another scene. Another person consumes the Mona Lisa in their own distinct way. Another scene and another until Kilney cannot take it. “Stop. Please stop.”
And just like that they’re back in the house. This time, the house makes no move to soothe him. It knows it won’t help. That irritates Kilney. Surely, he’s not that predictable. He doesn’t sit in the chair like he had last time, nor does he pace. He stands, his hands clutching the back of the chair. His fingers start to hurt but he does not relent.
“What was that supposed to teach me?”
Ramshackle looks unimpressed. “I asked you to observe.”
“I observed that different people have different reactions to the Mona Lisa. And that perhaps I did not miss anything by never being to the Louvre. What does that teach me?”
Taken aback, Ramshackle stares at him. “That’s step one. If you don’t understand then we cannot proceed.”
“This is supposed to be a discussion. Not a lecture.”
“It is what it is.”
Kilney is so furious he has the childish urge to flip Ramshackle off but refrains. He throws his hands in the air instead in clear exasperation, turns around and leaves.
Ramshackle scratches his head bemused. How could Kileny not understand?
Not everyone has been doing this for a millennium, my dear. Give it some time.
14 of 26 of an ongoing series The Dream Maker. You can read all posts here. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.
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tales of Suchita 
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