The Face

 

Tarak Ghosh

 

The Picasso Art Gallery was crowded on the opening day of the retrospective of the eminent artist Stephen Williams. The exhibition represented the personal journey of fifty years in which the artist shared details of his struggling life with his fellow artists, art critiques and above all else his beloved fans.

The air at the exhibition was filled with excitement as the media had suggested Mr. Williams would inaugurate the exhibition after a long period of living incognito.

Although, Williams' master-pieces were international best-sellers, he had started life as a humble street artist. He lost his parents when he was just a boy of ten. There was nobody to think about his future and he was sent to an orphanage.

Mrs. Kathy, the owner of the orphanage, was an artist. She had also an inner eye to find out a real pearl. She realized very soon that the boy had a god-gifted power of painting and the orphan boy also found out the inner beauty of the nature in her wide eyes. Kathy tried sincerely to help him to be a good painter.

Time went on. Mrs. Kathy and Stephen started walking together along the way of beauty. Within a couple of years; the boy proved that Mrs. Kathy was not wrong.

 Stephen had enjoyed his new-found fame and fortune and loved partying with his family and friends, but all this changed last year when his wife’s sudden death coincided with Stephen’s decision to withdraw from society.

Sadly, everyone, including the local police and Interpol assumed his disappearance was proof; he was responsible for his wife's death and even though the autopsy report proved Mrs. Williams died from a heart attack it wasn’t enough to stop nasty rumors circulating accusing him of causing it. Today was no exception.

“Ladies and Gentlemen I would like you to give a warm welcome to our guest speaker, Mr. Williams.”

The manager’s voice echoed around the ornate hall, instantly commanding silence. At the same moment, Mr. Williams stepped up to the microphone to deliver his speech. 

"Friends, today I will exhibit my latest oil color painting, ‘The Face’. I know you have been waiting eagerly for this oilcolor, which was painted a year before my dear wife tragically died. As many of you know today is the anniversary of my wife’s death, and I feel now is the appropriate time to share with the world the face of the woman who influenced me both personally and as an artist."

He started to walk slowly towards the corner of the gallery where the painting was mounted on the wall behind a curtain. Smiling towards his audience, he grabbed the remote control and pointed it towards the curtains. After a few seconds, he pressed the button. The curtains slowly parted to reveal, ‘The Face’. 

Whilst the onlookers applauded as the face of his wife was revealed Stephen looked furious … someone had dared to tamper with his work. The face should have been a tribute to his lover Kathy and not a dedication to his interfering wife, Kim. He became speechless surveying the painting with a critical eye. Moments after, he shouted in great panic, “Impossible! Unbelievable!”  His eyes widened. The audience saw the panic in his eyes.

“Is there a problem Mr. Williams?” the manager asked stepping forward. 

“This is not the face I painted! It has been switched -” he said nervously.

“But sir, I promise you no one has touched the painting …”

The manager’s words were drowned out by the sound of shrieking and Stephen retching. The face had started to bleed from the eyes, nose and ears while the face mouthed the words ‘imposter’.

 

#

 

Reviews

[writ rajat]

very nice to see this story

[Len Jeffrey]

Interesting short story. I cannot help but feel that something is missing.