Hidden Beauty
“I thought we were going to get dinner” she said, looking out the window of the cab hesitant.
“I know”, he replied, “but I wanted to show you something before they closed.”
“Are you sure they haven’t closed already? There’s no one going in there.” Without answering he threw a handful of bills at the driver, who, testily scooped them up. He rushed to her door flung it open and took her by the hand. She paused.
“Come on, don’t make me be lame and beg you to trust me.” A smile broke across her un-adorned lips. It was one of the quirky things he loved about her, she wore make up but refused to put anything on her lips except chap stick. She climbed gracefully out of the cab and let him pull her into an old, crumbling building that she assumed must have been beautiful at some point, but the years had worn it down. A neon sign flashed ART casting a green glow on the surrounding area, the paint on the building was faded and chipping. The faint melody of a saxophone was drifting from the street corner where an old man played every evening with out fail.
When they crossed the threshold he paused and faced her.”Okay, now, close your eyes.”
“But..”
“Just do it. Please?”She obeyed and let him steer her, blind, by the hand. He zig zagged, stopped short, walked slow,and ran. By the time he reached his destination they were doubled over with laughter.
He asked breathlessly, “Are your eyes still closed”
“Yes but—” He stopped her short.
“When I tell you too open them open them.” He shifted her position a little bit. “Open.” A sharp intake of breath issued from her mouth. She was staring at a small painting of a yellow bird, but it was beautiful. The background was just a stormy gray, so at first glance your eyes went to the shocking yellow bird in the corner.
“Did you see it?”, he asked wrapping his arms around her middle and resting his stubbled chin on her shoulder. She loved when he held her like this.
“See what?”
“The other bird, look.” She looked closer then she noticed it, in the opposite corner there was another bird, just barely a shade lighter than the dreary gray background. She leaned closer to the canvas, obligingly he leaned with her.She stared at the hidden bird. It’s feathers were ruffled as though it had just landed after taking flight. It’s eyes looked as though it could see right through you and echoed wisdom. It’s beak curved gently and it’s claws wrapped delicately around an invisible branch that the artist had neglected to add. She look back at the yellow bird that, at first glance, looked beautiful. Compared to the hidden bird it lost it’s beauty. It’s eyes were black and reflected no knowledge. It’s feathers were perfectly smoothed, it’s beak pointy and threatening, it’s claws spread out flat as if on the ground.
She turned in his arms to face him.
“You painted this didn’t you?” He nodded. A nervous look flickered across his face.
“Do you..um..Do you like it?”
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t belong here, it belongs in the Louvre or..or something.” He shook his head.
“I like it hidden…The diamond in the rough effect appeals to me.” She reached up and stroked his unshaven face. He sat her down on the bench across from the painting and sat beside her. Arms wrapped around each other they sat in silence staring at the work of art.
