Untitled and the Void

“You’re the only one who can hear me.” The voice was crisp and clear, almost mechanical. “Luna…” the voice whispered, almost taunting her. “You…are...the…only...one.”

Luna looked around the room again.

This was one of Julian Parallax's Galleries. The former house was in an industrial area of the city.

It was her first visit.

“Go to the curator. He’s up front in the red tie. Tell him you want to buy the portrait of Corey and Girl in a field.”

Luna leaned into the person next to her. “Did you hear that voice?”

The man looked at her and then scurried away to the upper floors. Luna was alone in the room.

There were four rooms here. A security guard stood in the doorway three rooms away, yawning while he read a book.

She moved into another room.

“Where are you going? You’re not listening to me.” The voice sounded further away, as if it was in the next room.

Luna walked away. She couldn’t hear the voice, but she sensed its anger. She needed to remove herself from this. She didn’t want to know if it was happening again.

She sat staring at the stall door. Luna could hear the voice in her head. “Buy the painting in the back called Untitled…” She put her head in her hands.

She finished up and walked back into the gallery.

Luna stared through the doorways that separated each of the rooms. On the last wall sat a white canvas. It was titled, “Here’s your art asshole.”

Then she began walking towards it.

She passed the security guard. He had stopped yawning and was now scrolling on his phone.

She stared at another painting. This one wasn’t very good, just another one of a naked woman on a bed.

“I want you, Luna…and you want me.” The voice lowered. “It has already been taken care of, Ms. Baxter.”

“How do you know my last name?” Luna said this out loud.

There was silence. “You want to see me every day, don’t you, Luna?” She sat in the gallery. Luna felt the chill of air conditioning. She shivered. “You don’t even know what you want.” Luna moved to the next picture. This one was a landscape. On the left side was a bar. A couple was leaning up against the wall outside. His hand was caressing her face. The sky was above all of them.

“Stop staring at Erica’s lint trash and come over here, young lady.” An edge of ire had replaced the crispness.

Luna looked at the painting across from Rebecca’s. “Now you’re at Rebecca’s painting. Are you enjoying her vanilla Wanna-Be shit?” Luna looked down. The voice was right. Her work was shit. “We’ll talk again when you’re closer.”

She appeared in the doorway.

“There you are.” She could feel the voice smile.

“What’s your name?” Luna said this out loud.

“Can you see me now? I’m in the green dress.”

Luna stood in the doorway. Luna was short and had a man’s haircut that stayed slicked down. She was in a tee-shirt and jeans. It was hot out there.

The painting was in the corner of the room. She moved over to it.

“Look at you looking at me.” The voice giggled. “Aww, shucks.” The silliness evaporated, and the voice deepened. “Come closer.”

Luna stood in front of the painting. The painting sat there. Nothing moved. She glanced at the title card. It was Untitled by Huxley Parris.

The picture in the canvas was of an older woman in a green summer dress. Her hair was salt-and-pepper gray. In the background of the painting was a desert scene with a sex shop entitled Randy’s Roundup. A woman stood outside the shop smoking a cigarette. One the other side of the main subject was a bar called the Jester Joint.

“Did Huxley Parris really create you?”

“Yes. She did. I was her last painting.” Luna stepped back, questioning. The voice sensed disbelief. “Ask Phillis up front. She doesn’t know if I was last, but I’m telling you I was.”

Luna moved further away. She could feel the painting smile at her. Nothing in the painting moved.

She turned and moved back to the front desk.

There was a young intern behind the desk.

“Is there a Phillis here?”

“There is.” The receptionist got up and moved to the back office.

An older, short woman came out of the back office. She was dressed in a three-piece suit. One got the feeling that she never felt comfortable out of one.

“Is that a Huxley Parris back there?”

“It is.” Her glasses were round and tortoise shell.

“When was it painted?”

Phillis nodded her head. Then smiled. “You’re one of those. The estimate is that it was her last painting. We don’t know, but it was one of six new canvases that were found in her apartment when she vanished.”

Luna turned away, and then quickly back. “Thank you.”

She moved to the back of the gallery. 

“Oh, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.” She placed her hands back onto the table. “It was painted by the Huxley Barnes.” 

“Umm ok…” Juliet, Luna’s best friend, blinked. “Who is that?” Luna began to quiver. “Do me a favor, take a deep breath, eat a potato skin, then take another breath, finish your martini, and tell me about the infamous Huxley Barnes.”

Luna took in a deep breath, then another. “She’s…”

Juliet lifted a finger and waved back and forth. “Do as I say.” Luna reached for a potato skin. She chewed. “Now the Martini.” The glass was tilted, and the mixture went down. “Now educate me... “

“Huxley Barnes went missing July 15, 1986. That day, she completed six paintings. This painting is one of them.”

“OoooEeeeOooo…” Juliet waved her hands in the air. “This painting will take you into the void.”

Luna laughed. “I know you don’t believe in this stuff.”

“In what? I believe she disappeared.”

“Look at this world. Who wants to be here? Not me…take me to the void!!!” Luna pulled out a potato skin. 

“What were the circumstances of her disappearance?”

“She was there on Sunday, and gone on Monday.”

Juliet threw her head back. “Maybe she got sucked into the void.”

Both women were laughing now. “The void droid got annoyed and pulled her into the void.” 

“So, this is the painting?” Juliet gestured towards the painting on her wall.

Both women were back at Luna’s cave-like basement apartment on Shaw Street. Juliet looked at it. “From Huxley’s Chelmsford studio to Luna’s mantle…”

“Luna, I hate Juliet.”

Luna ignored the voice. Juliet pointed towards the sex shop. “Randy’s Roundup is an interesting touch. Why would she put that there?”

“Tell her Huxley had a crush on a man she met at a bar, named Randy.” The painting’s voice lowered in a mysteriously, secretive way.

“She had a crush on a man she met at a bar.”

Juliet collapsed on a couch. “We’ve all been there.” She exhaled. “I bet Maria is going to say something about that.”

“Of course she will. Because everyone cares about her opinion.”

The painting watched the girls talk and watch Columbo all night. 

Luna wandered around the room, cleaning up. Juliet was still asleep.

“Your friend is unworthy of you, Luna.”

“What does that mean?”

“She doesn’t like you.” There was a pause. Luna piled the dishes up on top of each other. “I like you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know more than you think I do.”

“Who are you talking to, Luna?”

Luna looked around. Juliet stood there in her undies, rubbing her eyes.

“Umm...” Luna looked away. “I’m just talking to myself.”

Juliet snickered. “When did that start?”

With that, she wandered off into the bathroom. 

Luna lay in the silence of her bedroom, hiding. She thought about taking the painting, or smashing it. Then, she would walk back into the room. “I bet you want to destroy me...don’t you, Luna?”

Untitled had been talking all day. “I’m rewiring your brain, Luna. Then I’m going to lace it up your head again.” Untitled paused. “Don’t be friends with Juliet anymore, Luna. She hates you anyway. She wants you to go away.”

“You don’t know her.” Luna marched over to the painting and screamed at it. “I KNOW HER.”

She then turned, grabbed her bag, and marched out of her apartment.

It was dusk in the city. You could hear the heat packing up to go home for the night. Luna exhaled. She looked at her phone.

Juliet was still at work. She sent a text. “Want to grab something to eat? I need to talk to you about something important.”

She then turned to begin the walk to Juliet’s office. She could grab some food at Stick BritcheZ. She’d get a BangBang Beef dish and a Hussy Hamburger with cheese for Juliet. They would split an order of Chaos Chill ‘E fries.

While she was in line, Juliet wrote back. “Come on up...”

The food was prepared, and Luna was back on the road. One more stop for a six-pack of Diet Coke.

Luna pushed the door open to Filthy Blaze Productions. She took the elevator to the sixth floor and knocked on suite 673.

Juliet opened the door. “You’ve arrived, my love...” She threw open her arms.

Luna set the food down on the meeting room table, which hadn’t been used in weeks, and the feast began.

After an hour of giggling and nonsense, Juliet got serious. “So, what’s going on, spooky lady?”

“You know I’m not crazy, right...”

Juliet’s head bounces back and forth. “I can pretend for you...”

“I’m serious, Ju...”

“Ok...”

“Something is wrong with the painting I bought.”

“Is it also sleeping with your dentist, like Doug was?”

“Ummm, no.”

“So, what is it?”

“It’s talking to me.”

“That's why you bought it, right...because it spoke to you?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not shutting up Julie.” There was a pause. “It...will...not...SHUT UP.” 

There was a pause. Juliet leaned forward. “What’s it saying?”

“It hates you. A lot.” There was a pause. Luna picked at her beef. “It keeps talking about how I should dump you.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not kidding.”

“So, you bought a super insecure painting.” Juliet reached for a fry. “There’s a sentence you’ve never heard.” There was no laughter from Luna. “Sorry about that.”

Luna continued to pick at her broccoli. “What would you do?”

“I take it to Tim’s and burn the fuckin’ thing.” 

The moment Luna walked in the door, she heard, “Who’s Tim?”

Luna stopped for a second and stared at the painting. “I don’t know...who is Tim?” She stared at the painting. It sat there in silence, looking back at her. Then she sighed, “He’s a friend who has a burn pit in Wilmington.”

The painting stayed silent. The apartment was quiet. Luna undressed in her bedroom and came out naked. “What have you taken Tim to burn Luna?”

“Nothing.” Luna collapsed on her couch. “I don’t even know if the burn pit is still there.” She threw up an arm. “Why all the questions about Tim?” Luna turned on the television.

Untitled just sat on the wall that night watching her watch the television. 

Luna woke up with a start. She knew why the painting was asking about Tim. She came out and looked at it.

“You know too many things you fucker.” The painting was on the wall. There were only the sounds of the city in the background. Luna walked back into the bedroom and looked at the clock. It was 9:47 a.m.

She picked up her phone and quickly called Tim.

“Tim... it’s Luna.”

“Oh, wow...man I haven’t heard from you for years.”

“I need some help.”

“How can I be of service to you, pretty lady?”

Luna explained the situation.

“I’ll be by in an hour.”

57 minutes later, there was a knock on her door.

Luna walked up to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Tim. I’m here to help.” She opened the door. “You still ask who’s at the door.”

“Yeah, when you’ve dealt with the men, I have you do that.”

Tim walked over to the painting. “Nice painting. Sorry about what it’s doing to you.”

“Sometimes you buy something, and it just doesn’t work out.”

“I’ve been there, honey. We all have.”

Tim went over, took the painting off the wall, and put it under his arm.

“Can I come with you and watch this thing burn?”

“Sure...”

“I’ll take you to dinner after.” 

Tim’s crematoria was at the end of a block of houses that looked like the last time they had been nice was 1985.

The whole ride over there, Luna was asking questions and biting her nails.

When they got there, Tim put the painting on the metal. Luna slid it into the oven and then hit the button and watched it burn through the tiny window.

It took less than two minutes, and Untitled was nonexistent.

“Do you feel better now?”

“A little bit. It still hasn’t kicked in.” Luna was biting her nails. “What’s your favorite restaurant?” 

Luna returned home. The apartment seemed very empty. She breathed a sigh of relief. She sat and watched some bad TV shows and finally fell asleep in front of the television with her hand down her pants.

When she woke up, the apartment felt better.

Untitled’s absence had become absent.

She got up and left for the day.

As she rummaged through her closet, Untitled sat hidden behind some shirts and bras. It was there, making the apartment feel normal again.

That day, Luna made plans for Sunday with Juliet. It was a three-day weekend. They’d have a sleepover and some laughs. A very typical weekend.

Luna arrived back at the apartment. It felt like home again. It was safe in here.

The night she snuggled up into her bed. Her fan blew air on her naked body, and she was happy once again. 

The woman in the green dress stood over Luna. She stared at the sleeping woman. The only sounds in the room were the fan and the murmur of the city.

The woman in the green dress walked into the closet and pulled out the painting from the back.

She placed the painting over Luna and left the room.

The green dress fell to the bathroom floor, and the shower started. The water felt good on the woman’s hair. She leaned back and closed her eyes. The water beat down on her scalp. She then washed her hair. It had been too long.

When she went back into the room, Luna wasn’t there. The painting lay flat against the bed. 

The woman was naked now. She went over and picked up the painting and put it back on the wall.

It was a desert landscape. At the bottom of the painting was a road. There was nothing on the road—no stores, no people—just the road and sky. There was a cleanness to the painting.

The woman stepped back to admire it. Then, she went around the apartment, rearranging the furniture. By the end of the day, the apartment looked different.

Then the woman lay down and fell asleep. 

Juliet was in line to pick up dinner for her and Luna. It was the usual beef, cheeseburger, and chili fries.

She had the sack ‘o crap in her hand when she reached the top of the stairs that led down to Luna’s apartment.

Just as she was about to knock on the door, it opened. A woman with long gray hair had a backpack and a green dress on. She shuffled with her keys, looking for the right one.

“Who are you?”

The woman turned. “I live here.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’ve been living here for over three decades, young lady.”

Juliet didn’t know what to say. “My best friend lives here.”

“Where? In here?” The woman in the green dress opened the door.

Juliet cautiously entered the apartment. All of Luna’s furniture was there, but it was rearranged.

“This is Luna’s stuff.”

“Is Luna your little friend?”

“Yes, she is.” Juliet looked down, and there was a pillow on the couch. “I bought her this pillow. “ “You did?” Juliet nodded. “That’s very strange because my friend Edward got that pillow about six years ago.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“I’ve lived here since July 14, 1986.”

“How is that possible?” Juliet started to get sick. “I’ve been coming here for six years.”

“Are you sure this is the place?”

It was then that Juliet looked over and saw the painting. She stared at it. The woman in the green dress was gone. The sex store was gone. The liquor store was gone. It was just a desert landscape.

“Luna bought this painting last month.”

The woman laughed. “She did? I think I would’ve remembered that. That was given to me by my art curator friend Phillis. It’s an original Huxley Barnes. She was that artist that-”

“She disappeared. I know Luna told me all about it.”

The sickness was running faster through her body.

“I’m so sorry to shorten this visit, but I have a dinner engagement. So, let me show you out.”

The woman guided Juliet to the door. Then she closed the door and locked it.

“Who are you?”

“Is that important, Miss...”

“I’m Juliet.”

“Well, that’s not my name...” The woman then slipped on a pair of rhinestone glasses. “I hope you find your wonderful, little friend Ms. Juliet.” The woman tittered and then marched up the stairs and down the street.

Juliet turned toward the door. The sickness came up until it was just bile. Juliet staggered back up the stairs and to the street. She wasn’t hungry anymore...