Paintings, Where do you want to escape today?

PAINTINGS

Where do you want to escape today?

By Barney Defanfaler

‘Ah heck,’ thinks Barney as he hears steady footsteps plodding up the Windsor Gallery stairs and sees a flashlight beam coursing across the opposite wall. His wristwatch displays midnight. ‘Why is she so early? I’m trapped.’

Barney runs around a corner into the art gallery's second-floor east room and hugs the wall. His head bumps into a painting frame, and he quickly grabs it to steady it.

‘What the flip?’ he thinks as his hand sinks beyond the canvas. Barney turns to find a familiar Redwood Forest painting he has seen numerous times during his daily visits, scouting the art gallery. He touches the canvas, and his hand again enters it.

“Ahhh,” Barney yelps as he jerks back his wet hand.

“Who’s there?” Jenny, the night guard, yells.

Barney slowly reaches out to explore the canvas again, feeling the tree bark is rough. Then, feeling further back, his hand wraps around it.

‘It is a tree! I never noticed it as a 3D art form . . . ‘he thinks.

“Who is there?” repeats Jenny, louder and closer.

‘Ah, heck. Why not? I’m cornered.’ Barney grasps a branch, pulls himself up, climbs in, and then drops down onto the grass, startling a rabbit that hops off into the brush. It is a warm, bright, and humid day. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and a babbling brook. Barney sees a fuzzy translucent square next to the tree that matches the dimensions of the painting. He slowly and carefully pokes his head back through. He sees Jenny run into the center of the Gallery’s East room and stand turning slow circles, her flashlight coursing the walls and paintings. Barney pulls back into the forest.

“I must be hearing things. I gotta get back on day shift,” Jenny mumbles. She turns, and as her flashlight shines over the forest painting, Jenny halts.

‘Gottacha.’ Jenny looks back over her shoulder. “Not a reflection,” She notices Barney is cut in half as his body ends below the painting.

“What the flip?” She hesitantly walks towards the forest scene, noting Barney's image is slowly fading.

‘This is unreal,’ Barney giggles as he remains perfectly still watching the perplexed Jenny.

“I definitely need to get back on the day shift,” Jenny says as she watches Barney become translucent, and the forest behind him come into focus.

‘Must be a migraine coming on,’ Jenny thinks as she rubs her temples with eyes closed. She opens them to observe a very faint Barney smiling back at her as he runs away through the forest.

Jenny steps up to the canvas and looks in.

“Stop,” Jenny yells as she now clearly sees Barney running off. Water drips on her head, and she recoils. With a shaky hand, she touches the tree's rough, wet bark. She jerks her hand back.

“Holy Mother Mary and Jesus,” Jenny screams, “What is wrong with me?”

“I can’t call this in. They will haul me off to the funny farm.” Jenny replaces her radio and pulls out her phone.

“Hey Henry, it’s Jenny. . .”

*

“Where do I recognize that stone cottage from?” Barney wonders as he explores the forest. He passes through a creek and then knocks on the cottage door. Getting no answer, and being the thief he is, Barney enters. He is sitting at the table enjoying a blueberry pie when he hears the front door creak open.

“Ah, heck.” Barney climbs out the kitchen window, turns around, and notices he is standing on a wooden floor. Looking back to the window, he sees a familiar cottage painting in the gallery. He runs to the Gallery’s north stairs, looks down, and halts.

‘What is Henry doing here?’  He looks back and sees Jenny’s feet poking out the cottage window. He retreats across the room into the Gallery’s west wing.

‘How about this one?’ Barney wonders as he tests a painting of folks in mid-1800s attire, waltzing in an ornate dance hall. He pulls his head back. The scene's movement and music are replaced by running footsteps. Barney climbs in and ducks behind a row of chairs.

“Oops, I'm not dressed for the occasion.” Barney pulls off his ski cap, grabs a jacket, scarf, and hat draped over a chair, and then walks into a street filled with horse-drawn carriages. The sign says Baker Street.

*

“I’m telling you, Henry. I am not crazy,” insists Jenny, “Look over here.”

“How can this be Jenny?” Henry says as he pulls his hand back from inside the forest.

“No idea. I climbed in here and chased him out the Cottage window over there.”

“Where is he now, Jenny?”

“He must be in this room . . . well, in one of these paintings.”

“Right. So how do we find the right one?”

“Ah ha! Look there, Henry. Scuff marks on that wall. Let's go.”

“Perhaps best if I wait here. He may return.”

“OK.” Jenny climbs in.

*

‘I can’t go back for the guards,' Barney thinks as he meanders down the gas lamp-lit cobblestone street in London, then sits on a bench to think.

‘There ought to be a way to take advantage of this situation,’ Barney thinks as he watches the sunrise. He is contriving get-rich-quick schemes as thieves do.

‘That’s it. Barney, you are brilliant. The perfect robbery.’ He pats himself on the head.

“Ah, fiddlesticks.” Barney bows his head as Jenny walks by.

“Hello. Interesting situation we’re in.” Jenny says.

“Excuse me,” Barney replies as he looks up.

“Please don’t play dumb, Barney. Your tennis shoes are a wee out of place here.”

“Ah, heck. Ya nabbed me, Jenny.”

“Oh, sir. I believe this woman is a foreigner,” Barney shouts to a passing Bobby.

The bobby steps over to closely examine the woman dressed in her uniform.

“Be careful. That black tube looks like a new French weapon,” says Barney.

“Don’t move, miss.” The bobby pulls the object from Jenny's side.

“Sir, it is not a weapon, and this man is a thief.”

“Be careful, sir. Aim it towards the sky, then push that button.”

“Holly, Mother!” The bobby drops the flashlight.

“It is her witch's light saber.” Says Barney as he smiles at Jenny.

“No, the truth is . . .” Jenny attempts to explain.

“The truth, miss, is you must come with me.”

*

“Jenny, it’s me, Barney.”

“What do you want, Barney?”

“I can get you out if you promise to help me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you are not getting out without me. They will hold you with all the foreign stuff you got caught with.”

“Yeah, true enough. What do you want besides letting you go free when we return.”

“I have a plan that requires a partner. After tonight, we could both retire.”

“I am not a thief like you, Barney.”

“Understood. Listen up, and it will be your choice.”

Jenny listens to Barney's plan.

“OK, Barney. Fair enough. You got me and it doesn’t sound illegal technically.”

*

Jenny and Barney are getting dressed in an alley.

“Thank you, Barney. They would have hanged me as a witch.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t let that happen, Jenny. I would have sprung you even if you would not partner up.”

“Why Barney? What do you care? You’re a thief.”

“That does not make me evil. Besides, you're cute.”

“Hold it right there, Barney. I have not gone for all your flirting at the gallery these last weeks. After we do this, we go our separate ways. We are two very different people.”

“Yeah, right.” Barney smiles.

The two walk off, returning to the dance hall.

“It’s locked,” says Jenny.

“No more complicated than snatching the jail keys,” says Barney.

Barney secrets himself in the dance hall. Jenny climbs into the gallery.

*

‘It has been too long,’ thinks Barney as he looks at his watch. He climbs into the gallery’s west wing, where he runs around but cannot find either guard.

He looks at his watch, confounded by the asynchronous times between the parallel worlds.

“She double-crossed me,” Barney yells, then runs to the painting where he knows he will find Jenny and Harryy. Barney climbs into an Aztec empire.

Barney finds the Aztec people gathered around a massive pyramid. Jenny and Harry are held captive on a platform at the Pyramid's peak. Barney scratches his head as he contrives a plan to free the two.

‘I hope I can return in time,’ Barney thinks. He returns to the gallery and checks his watch. It's 1 AM.’ He leaves the gallery, runs home, and returns.

Back in the Aztec era, Barney is relieved to see the guards still atop the pyramid.

He starts up the stairs to be immediately grabbed by two feather-adorned warriors and is roughly escorted to the top.

‘So far, so good,’ he thinks as he joins Jenny and Sherry.

“What are you doing here, Barney?” Jenny asks.

“Besides not wanting to see your cute head roll?”

“I’m sorry, Barney. I could not trust a thief.”

“So, you prove you’re the one not trustable by going back on your word?”

An ornately attired and highly feathered Aztec warrior pulls screaming Harry to the chopping block. Barney tackles Jenny just as a massive explosion blows burning wood in all directions. Barney looks into Jenny's eyes, smiling as he lay atop her. He then jumps up, shedding off burning wood as he screams and chants gibberish. He throws another stick of lit dynamite high into the air. It explodes overhead, sending the frightened masses to their knees and forearms, bowing to Barney, who they must believe is an angry fire spirit.

“Jenny. Harry, time to go.” Barney says.

People crawl backward as the three strangers walk down the stairs. At the bottom, Barney tosses another stick skyward, and they return to their window and exit.

*

“We need to adapt our plan . . .” says Jenny.

“Our plan? We?”

“Well, yes, it was your plan, and I understand if you want to cancel me.”

“How am I supposed to trust you now, Jenny?”

“You can’t, Barney, but you still need me, right?”

“No, I could just tie you two.”

“Where is Henry?” Jenny asks, looking around.

“He was right behind us.”

“I saw him grabbing some gold relics we had stashed a hundred back,” Jenny says.

The two run to the Aztec painting and peek in to see a limp Harry with numerous arrows protruding from his back being dragged off by two warriors. A scattering of gold relics lay on the path.

The two pull back into the gallery.

*

“Oh lordy, what will I say? What will we do now?” cries Jenny.

“I have no idea. Perhaps nothing. Who would believe . . . ” replies Barney.

“It’s all my fault.” Jenny continues sobbing.

“Henry had a choice. You chose home. He chose gold and lost.”

The two sit quietly in self-reflection. The gallery's elegant, stately grandfather clocks' deep-toned tic-tock is healing, an auditory meditative focal point helping soothe their shattered nerves after three tumultuous days. Their hearts and breathing slow to their baseline resting rate and rhythm. A single gong follows the stately clock's distinctive whirring.

“What time do you have, Jenny?” Barney asks, looking at his watch,

“One AM,” she says, checking her watch.

“Me too. I am confounded by the out-of-sync times between these parallel worlds, or whatever they are.”

“Right. That's weird. We have been gone for a few days but have only lost an hour here.

“Days could not have passed here, or there would be other guards on duty.”

And another thought: When will these paintings change back to . . . well, paintings?”

“No idea. We might get stuck somewhere.”

“Is your ‘Aztec gold retirement fund’ plan still worth the risk for you?” Jenny asks.

“Absolutely not. I almost lost you once.”

“Oh, Barney. It was my fault to follow Harry's selfish rush to leave you out. I did not know you as I do now. You risked your life for us. Poor Harry.”

“You, Jenny. I only went back for you. Plus, we have no idea what we're dealing with. If the wormhole, or whatever it is, shuts down, we might end up as two-dimensional beings.”

“Or live in another world might be nice,” Jenny adds.

“Are you happy, Jenny? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“To tell you the truth, Barney, I’m bored with this city rat race. I work, eat, do laundry, sleep, and wake up to repeat the cycle just to scrape by month to month. How about you, Barney?”

“I have my non-rat race freedom, but I’m lonely,” Barney confesses.

“No family?”

“Nope, I was raised in an orphanage. You?”

“After my parents were killed, as a teen, I immigrated from Ukraine with my grandparents. Both passed a few years back.”

“Any dreams, Jenny?”

“Yes, actually. Walk with me. I'll show you.”

“I love this one. Sometimes, I sit on this bench and imagine the sounds of the ocean and birds. I can almost smell the salt spray of the sea and fishy shore. My dad was a fisherman. Reminds me of home.”

Barney moves his head into the canvas, and the waves come alive. Jenny joins him. He looks at her. They exchange smiles and climb in.

*

“I love the Windsor Gallery, Jerry. Thank you for bringing me. “

“You are welcome, Sue. I am glad you are pleased. I am, too, as it has been a while since I have been here.”

“Here we are in my favorite west wing.” Says jerry.

“This picnic scene by Bart is so inviting. I always want to join in the dancing merriment after riding in on that white horse,” says Sue.

“I understand, but you know me: As a hermit, I find Presley’s seascape next to it draws me in,” says Jerry.

“Yes, I love how he captured the mood of the couple sitting on the bench.”

“What are you looking at? There no people in his seascape,” Jerry says.

“There certainly are.”

Jerry wanders over to the seascape.

“Well, I’ll be. It is the same painting. He is local and must have added the couple since I was here last.”

“It is masterful how he matched the serene mood of the loving couple with the calm, serene sea.”