A Magic Painting

It had been a very long time, decades, since Jeffrey had gone to an art gallery, but he knew that he had to do something different from his usual activities. He had retired a few years ago. Television was boring to him now, and under AI power to overrule what you want to see, movies had fewer actors and much more AI produced cheap imitations of people. He liked to read books, but it didn’t take much time of reading before they put him to sleep, even the most interesting works.

It had been years since his wife had died, and he has very few friends whom he sees on occasional Friday nights at the Toby Jug, a British pub with decent beer. They were all old men who shared complaints about the times they were currently living in. His one child, a boy, had moved to the western shores of Vancouver Island, while he lived close to the shores on the other side of the continent.

He had never seen the paintings of the artist whose work had been put on display the day before. An article in the local paper had said that his paintings had the reputation of being enchanting, almost magic. When Jeffrey walked into the room where the paintings were displayed, he saw a man standing in front of them. Jeffrey couldn’t know exactly why he thought the man looked like a magician, but he certainly felt that he did. He wouldn’t have been completely surprised if the artist whipped a magic wand out of one of his deep pockets, and turned something into something else. 

The artist looked deeply, hypnotically, into Jeffrey’s eyes, and said, “I think that you might like to look at this picture.” With those words, he pointed at the nearest of the paintings.

When Jeffrey looked at the painting indicated, he noticed that it had a name: “If Wishes Could Come True”. What he saw at first was just a swirling of mixed images, with nothing in particular sticking out. Then it looked to him like the images were moving, until the centre showed a face. He stared at it, as it was a change in the painting, and it looked familiar. He then thought, ‘This looks remarkably like Carol, when she was in my grade five class. I haven’t thought about her in ages. How strange is that? I must be hallucinating.’ After staring at what he was seeing for a few minutes, he turned his head away, then looked at the painting again. He did not see Carol this time. The picture had returned to its original circular images, which is what he hoped that it would, although not completely.

Jeffrey looked at the artist, not wanting to say what he believed he saw, but thanked him for pointing the painting out to him. “Striking picture, sir. A very striking picture.” The artist then replied, “I knew it would show something to you that you would appreciate, good fellow. I knew that it would.” 

Jeffrey wondered, ‘How could he know that? He could not have known what I saw, or rather what my mind showed me. He must have seen the look on my face. That must be it.’

Wanting to stay on the good side of the artist, Jeffrey told him that he was going to the next room to get some coffee, and asked him whether he would like a cup of java. The artist smiled and said, ‘yes’. “And put a little milk in it, but absolutely no sugar”.

Jeffrey went into the cafeteria, and bought two coffees. He sat for a while nursing his coffee thinking about his hallucination, then decided that he didn’t want the artist’s coffee to get cold. So he walked back into the art display room, not wanting to look again at the picture that had led him to his delightful, but kind of scary illusion.

When he handed the coffee over to the artist, the man said to him. “I want you to look at the picture again. I truly believe that it will show you something that you would want to see. Take a good long look my friend”. 

Jeffrey cringed a little bit, but deep inside he wanted to see the picture once more. He looked at it for a few seconds, and then what he saw in the painting changed yet again. Carol was again to be seen. This time she looked older, like she did when they were in the same class in high school, and they were going on dates together. That was when she became his first love. He wondered, ‘What is there about these paintings and this artist that is causing me to see such happy moments in my past? 

When he turned away from the picture, he saw the artist looking straight at him. Then the man spoke, “I noticed that you saw something special in the painting, something from your past. One reason for that was that yesterday was the opening day of my exhibit, and a group from the Senior Centre came to view my art. I suggest you go to that place. You will see something or rather someone that you will want to see.

Jeffrey nodded his head to the painter, not sure why he did so, other than being thankful to him . But, as he walked out the door, he decided that he was going to go to the senior centre despite the creeping doubts that he had. He would at least go for the lunch that they offered, even though it might be healthier than what he was accustomed to eating.

He got into his car and drove to the Senior Centre. As he got into the building and headed to the cafeteria, he wondered whether any of his Toby Jug friends might be there. As he paid at the door and then sat down at an empty table, he looked around to see whether any of his buddies could be seen.

Then he saw her – Carol. She too walked in alone. As she looked for a table she saw him, at just about the same time as he saw her. He stood up and called her by name in a voice louder than what he originally had intended. She responded in kind.

They hugged each other, and then sat down, across from each other. He told her about his experience in the art gallery. She had a look of astonishment on her face, then said to him, “I went there yesterday. When I viewed the painting that you just mentioned, the picture shifted, and I saw you.”

If anyone was going to ask Jeffrey whether he believed in magic, he would say that he did.