THE MYSTERY OF ART BY ALICIA ADLER copyright 1987
ART IS A STRANGE SORT OF FELLOW. HE HAS MUCH MORE FANCIFUL NAMES BUT HE
LIKES TO BE KNOWN AS ART.
SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT HE DOES NOT BELONG TO THIS WORLD, THAT HE COMES FROM
SOMEWHERE ELSE, THAT HE IS A PART OF THE LARGER UNIVERSE, THAT AGE AND TIME
DO NOT DIMINISH HIS POWER AND BEAUTY BUT HE THINKS HE’S A REGULAR GUY.
IF YOU SAW HIM, YOU MIGHT THINK HIS FEATURES PERFECT BUT HE THINKS HIS FACE
IS LOP-SIDED. HE WEARS A LONG BEARD TO COMPENSATE FOR ASYMMETRY, THINKING
THE LONG HAIRS MAKE HIS FACE FLOW, BUT HE WANTS YOU TO KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT
HIM, WILL TELL YOU WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE IF YOU ASK HIM.
ART IS AWESOME AND POWERFUL
BUT HE IS KIND TO CHILDREN.
JENNY IS ART’S FRIEND. SHE BARELY REACHES HIS KNEES BUT HE LOVES HER IN HIS
OWN WAY, TRIES TO TEACH HER WHAT HE KNOWS.
LONG AGO, WHEN JENNY WAS JUST BARELY MORE THAN A BABY, ART WOULD FEED JENNY.
FOR A WHILE, ALL THE HOT FOOD HAD TO BE RED AND ALL THE COLD FOOD HAD TO BE
BLUE. ART EVEN MAKE JENNY’S MILK BLUE.
HE SHOWED JENNY HOW TO MAKE PATTERNS ON JENNY’S PLATE,
PATTERNS IN RED AND BLUE,
OVER AND OVER AGAIN.
AFTER THAT, HE BROUGHT HER GREEN FOOD AND ORANGE FOOD,
AND FOOD OF ALL DIFFERENT COLORS AND JENNY WOULD MAKE IT LOOK LIKE THIS
PICTURE
OR THAT PICTURE BEFORE SHE ATE.
JENNY GOT TIRED OF MAKING PICTURES ON HER PLATE ONE DAY AND THOUGHT,
“WOULDN’T IT BE NEAT TO MAKE A BIGGER PICTURE?” SO JENNY STARTED THROWING
HER FOOD ON THE FLOOR.
SHE THREW IT ALL OVER THE FLOOR.
THAT LOOKED PRETTY GOOD, SO SHE STARTED PAINTING THE CEILING AND WALLS WITH
FOOD TOO.
SHE THOUGHT IT LOOKED WONDERFUL, SO SHE PAINTED SOME MORE.
WHEN ART GOT BACK, HE SAW THE FOOD AND TOLD JENNY, “THAT’S A REALLY PRETTY
DESIGN BUT YOU MUST NOT THROW FOOD ALL OVER THE HOUSE ANYMORE. WHILE YOU
CLEAN UP THE MESS YOU MADE, I’M GOING TO GET SOME SEEDS FOR YOU, THEN YOU
CAN PLAY IN THE GARDEN.”
PLAYING WITH COLORS AND FOOD AND FLOWERS WASN’T ALL THAT ART COULD TEACH
JENNY.
HE TAUGHT HER ABOUT LIFE AND LOVE AND BEAUTY AND EVEN,
AT TIMES, SHOWED HER THE HARDER SIDE OF HIMSELF, SCOLDING HER WHEN SHE
FORGOT HIS LESSONS.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” ART ASKED JENNY, ONE SUNDAY. “I’M FEELING THE SUN
AGAINST MY FACE,
LISTENING TO THE BREEZE AND LOOKING FOR THE MOUNTAINS.” SHE ANSWERED. ART
SMILED WITH HER.
LATER, WHEN THE CLOUDS ROLLED IN AND THE WEATHER WAS STORMY, JENNY WAS
AFRAID.
SHE RAN INTO THE HOUSE
AND SAT IN HER CHAIR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM AND WOULD NOT MOVE AND WOULD
NOT SMILE.
WHEN ART ASKED WHY SHE WAS AFRAID, SHE WOULD NOT LOOK AT ART NO MATTER HOW
HARD HE TRIED TO COMFORT HER.
WHEN SHE GOT USED TO THE STORM AND WAS NO LONGER FRIGHTENED, ART ASKED WHY
SHE WAS POUTING.
“ITS RAINING OUT AND THERE’S NOTHING TO DO, SO SUN, NO WARN BREEZE. LOOK!
EVEN THE MOUNTAINS I USED TO SEE ARE COVERED IN CLOUDS.”
“WHAT ABOUT THOSE CLOUDS?”, ASKED ART, “WHAT SHAPES DO YOU SEE?”
“EVERYTHING IS GREY. THERE ARE NO SHAPES.” JENNY REPLIED.
“LOOK MORE CLOSELY, ARE YOU SURE YOU SEE ONLY GREY?” ASKED ART.
“I DON’T SEE THE MOUNTAINS.” ANSWERED JENNY.
“WHAT ABOUT THE DIFFERENCE IN SHADES OF GREY, THE DARKER AND LIGHTER AREAS?
WHAT DO YOU SEE IN THEM?” ASKED ART.
“NOTHING REALLY.” SAID JENNY. “WELL, I GUESS I SEE SOME SHAPES IN THE
CLOUDS BUT I HAVE TO SQUINT MY EYES AND LOOK THROUGH MY LASHES.”
“LOOKING THROUGH YOUR LASHES IS LIKE USING YOUR IMAGINATION. NOW, LOOK
CLOSER.” SAID ART. “DO YOU SEE THE MOVEMENT FROM SPACE TO SPACE?”
“SPACE IS TOO BIG TO SEE.” SAID JENNY. “EVEN I KNOW THAT.” “HOW BIG IS
SPACE?” ASKED ART.
“BIGGER THAN BIG?” ASKED JENNY IN REPLY. “MAYBE IT IS, BUT THAT DOESN’T
MEAN YOU CAN’T SEE MOVEMENT BETWEEN SPACES.” SAID ART WITH A KNOWING SMILE.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, MOVEMENT BETWEEN BIGGER THAN BIG?” JENNY WANTED TO KNOW.
“I MEAN WHAT I MEAN.” WAS ALL ART WOULD SAY. HE WOULD SAY NO MORE. THEY
WERE STILL INSIDE THE ROOM, LOOKING AROUND THE ROOM AGAIN, WHEN JENNY
STOPPED ASKING QUESTIONS. SHE WAS FRUSTRATED THAT ART WOULD TELL HER NO
MORE. HE WAS LIKE THAT SOMETIMES, WOULD LEAVE HER HANGING ONTO A THOUGHT,
LEAVE HER WITH ONLY THE GREY OUTSIDE AND THE ROOM TO THINK ABOUT.
“HERE, JENNY. TAKE THIS CRYSTAL.” ART PULLED IT FROM HIS CLOTHING AND GAVE
IT TO HER. “WHAT GOOD IS IT? THERE’S NO SUN.” SAID JENNY. “IT’S FOR
REMEMBERING.” ANSWERED ART, AND THEN HE WAS GONE.
ART WAS LIKE THAT, POPPING IN AND OUT OF JENNY’S LIFE. HE’ SAY GOOD-BYE AND
- HE’D LEAVE LITTLE TRINKETS TO AMUSE HER SO SHE WOULDN’T FEEL LONELY, SO
SHE’D KNOW HE WAS GOING TO RETURN. WHEN THE SUN SHONE ONCE MORE, SHE
REMEMBERED ART WITH THE CRYSTAL BUT STILL SHE MISSED HIM.
SHE WAS SURE HE’D RETURN, WOULD BRING SOMETHING WITH HIM TO BRIGHTEN HER DAY
OR TEACH HER ABOUT A PLACE SHE’D NEVER SEEN OR A WAY OF LOOKING SHE’D NEVER
THOUGHT ABOUT. HE TOLD HER TO DO THINGS TO KEEP FROM FEELING LONELY.
SHE WORKED IN THE GARDEN BUT STILL SHE MISSED HIM.
THE NEXT TIME HE VISITED, ART LOOKED WORRIED. “JENNY, THERE’S SOMETHING I
HAVE TO ASK YOU. CAN YOU KEEP SOMETHING SAFE FOR ME?” “OF COURSE, I CAN.”
ANSWERED JENNY.
ART PULLED A ROCK FROM HIS POCKET AND GAVE IT TO JENNY. IT LOOKED LIKE AN
ORDINARY ROCK BUT IT HAD A MOST EXTRAORDINARY QUALITY. IT WAS WARM TO THE
TOUCH. “HIS NAME IS GRANITE BOY AND THE STAR PEOPLE HAVE ENTRUSTED HIM TO
MY KEEPING BUT I’M NOT SURE I CAN KEEP HIM SAFE, RIGHT NOW. YOU WILL TAKE
GOOD CARE OF HIM, WON’T YOU?” “YOU KNOW I WILL.” ANSWERED JENNY. “WHY IS
HE WARM?”
“THE WARMTH IS THE ONLY WAY HE HAS TO COMMUNICATE WITH YOU, RIGHT NOW.” SHE
PUT HIM IN HER POCKET AND WONDERED WHAT HE COULD DO. WOULD HE GLOW IN THE
DARK OR TURN INTO A CRYSTAL BALL THROUGH WHICH ENTIRELY ALL OF THE KNOWN
UNIVERSE COULD BE SEEN?
JENNY FOLLOWED ART ALONG THE GARDEN PATH, FEELING GRANITE BOY’S WARMTH IN
HER POCKET. ART LOVE TO REARRANGE THE PLANTS IN THE GARDEN HAD SOME ALMOST
MAGICAL WAY OF PICKING UP THE FLOWERS AND BUSHES WITHOUT KILLING THE ROOTS
AND PLACING THEM SO THAT THEY WOULD BE HAPPIER OR PRETTIER.
JENNY WOULD WORK IN THE GARDEN EVERY DAY BUT NO MATTER HOW MUCH SHE TRIED TO
MAKE THE ARRANGEMENT PERFECT, ART ALWAYS FOUND A WAY TO MAKE IT LOOK JUST A
LITTLE BETTER.
“I HAVE SOME THINGS TO TELL TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T WANT TO LISTEN, SO IT MAY
TAKE A LONG TIME BEFORE I’M BACK,” ART SAID.
HE WASN’T SMILING ANYMORE AND ALL THE REST OF THE DAY HE WASN’T ANY FUN AT
ALL.
JENNY HAD SEEN SERIOUS ART BEFORE. SHE SAT IN THE GARDEN AND PLAYED WITH
GRANITE BOY,
SHE WASN’T WATCHING ART AS HE CONTINUED TO REARRANGE THE GARDEN COLORS.
SHE WASN’T WATCHING ART WHEN A TERRIBLE WIND THAT WAS NOT REALLY A WIND, BUT
MORE LIKE A SILENT TORNADO, CAME DOWN BEHIND HER AND SWEPT ART AWAY
AND REARRANGED THE GARDEN INTO A BIG MESS.
“ART!!” JENNY CRIED INTO THE DAYTIME DARKNESS, PUTTING GRANITE BOY BACK IN
HER POCKET. AS THE DAYLIGHT CAME BACK, JENNY SAW A FIGURE STANDING IN THE
BIG MESS THAT USED TO BE HER PRETTY GARDEN. “ART, IS THAT YOU?” JENNY
SQUINTED HER EYES TO SEE.
THE GREENISH DARKNESS WAS GONE AND THE FIGURE IN THE GARDEN LOOKED JUST LIKE
ART BUT SOMETHING WAS WRONG.
AS JENNY MOVED CLOSER TO GET A BETTER LOOK, SHE FELT GRANITE BOY AS COLD AS
ICE IN HER POCKET.
“I AM ART!” THE FIGURE SCREAMED. JENNY KNEW BETTER. “WHERE IS GRANITE
BOY?” THE VOICE BOOMED.
“YOU’RE NOT ART.” JENNY CRIED OUT. “WHAT DID YOU DO WITH ART?” “I AM
ART!” THE BIG VOICE BOOMED AND THE FIGURE LOOMED OVER JENNY. GRANITE BOY
GOT COLD AND HOT AND COLD AND HOT IN JENNY’S POCKET AND JENNY WAS AFRAID.
SHE RAN DOWN THE GARDEN PATH, PAST THE BROKEN FLOWERS AND BUSHES, THINKING
SHE WAS BEING CHASED BUT THE FIGURE JUST STOOD THERE, UNMOVING. “I AM ART!”
HE SCREAMED AFTER HER. “WHERE IS GRANITE BOY?!” THE VOICE BOOMED.
THAT NIGHT, WHEN JENNY FINALLY WENT BACK HOME, EVERYTHING LOOKED LIKE IT
ALWAYS HAD. THE GARDEN WAS JUST THE WAY ART LEFT IT BEFORE HE DISAPPEARED.
“WHERE DID ART GO?” SHE ASKED GRANITE BOY, BUT HE WOULD NOT ANSWER HER.
“AT LEAST, YOU’RE WARM AGAIN.” SHE SIGHED.
IN THE MORNING, GRANITE BOY AND JENNY WENT OUT TO LOOK FOR ART BUT THEY
COULDN’T FIND ART ANYWHERE.
THEY FOUND TRACES OF ART, RELICS FROM WHERE HE’D BEEN, FOOTSTEPS IN THE
DIRT, BUT ART WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
“HE USUALLY DOESN’T LEAVE WITHOUT SAYING GOOD-BYE.” JENNY SAID AS SHE WENT
ABOUT HER BUSINESS.
WHEN ART DIDN’T COME BACK FOR A VERY LONG TIME. JENNY WENT TO TOWN TO LOOK
FOR HIM.
THERE WAS A BUILDING FULL OF ROOMS WHERE ART LIKED TO GO. MAYBE HE WOULD BE
THERE.
JENNY WENT FROM ROOM TO ROOM BUT ART WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
THEN JENNY SAW A BEARD ACROSS THE ROOM.
BUT IT WASN’T ART. IT LOOKED LIKE ART BUT IT WASN’T. “I AM ART!” THE BEARD
BELLOWED.
“YOU’RE NOT ART.” JENNY TOLD THE BEARD. “SO WHAT?” HE SAID IN A WHISPER.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ART?” JENNY WANTED TO KNOW.
“ART IS DEAD.” THE BEARD SAID AND THEN HE LAUGHED SO LOUD THAT JENNY HAD TO
LEAVE.
JUST OUTSIDE THE DOOR, THERE WAS A GROUP OF MEN WITH MIRRORED SUNGLASSES.
“DOESN’T ANYONE HERE KNOW ABOUT GRANITE BOY?” ONE OF THEM ASKED THE CROWD.
“THERE’S A GUY WITH A BEARD INSIDE, WHO CALLS HIMSELF ART.” JENNY TOLD
THEM. “I’VE HEARD ÈÑÉÑÍÑ TALKING ABOUT GRANITE BOY.” “REALLY?” ASKED ONE OF
THE MEN WITH SUNGLASSES.
LATE THAT NIGHT, WHEN NO ONE WAS WATCHING, THE MEN WITH SUNGLASSES DRAGGED
THE FALSE ART AWAY. “WE KNOW YOU CAN TELL US SOMETHING,” ONE OF THEM
SNARLED, “AND WE WON’T LET YOU GO UNTIL YOU TELL US WHERE GRANITE BOY IS.”
“I DON’T KNOW, I DON’T KNOW, I TELL YOU, I DON’T KNOW.” THE CRIES FADED
INTO THE NIGHT AND JENNY NEVER SAW THE BEARD AGAIN.
JENNY STAYED AT HOME WITH GRANITE BOY AND SHE TRIED TO TALK WITH HIM, BUT
GRANITE BOY WASN’T ART. HE WASN’T EASY TO TALK WITH. “ART COULDN’T BE
DEAD, COULD HE, GRANITE BOY? BUT IF HE ISN’T DEAD, WHERE IS HE?”
GRANITE BOY STARTED TO SQUEAK LIKE AN ELECTRONIC MOUSE OR A RECORD SPEEDED
UP TOO FAST. “WHAT?” ASKED JENNY. THEN SHE HAD AN IDEA. SHE WENT TO GET
THE CRYSTAL THAT ART HAD GIVEN HER,
COLLECTED ALL THE TRINKETS HE’D LEFT WITH HER AND WENT OUT TO THE GARDEN.
GRANITE BOY SQUEAKED AWAY WHILE SHE LOOKED THROUGH THE CRYSTAL AND
REMEMBERED THE BLUE AND RED AND GREEN AND ORANGE FOOD. IF SHE ARRANGED THE
TRINKETS JUST RIGHT, MAYBE ART WOULD COME BACK.
JENNY ARRANGED THEM BUT WHEN SHE WAS DONE, GRANITE BOY STOPPED SQUEAKING.
“THAT ISN’T RIGHT, IS IT?” JENNY SAID.
SHE ARRANGED THEM AGAIN BUT GRANITE BOY SQUEAKED ONLY A LITTLE.
SHE ARRANGED THEM AGAIN
AND AGAIN BUT GRANITE BOY FELL SILENT. “YOU’RE NOT GIVING UP, ARE YOU?”
JENNY ASKED, HOLDING GRANITE BOY TIGHTLY.
HE WAS WARM AGAINST HER HAND BUT WOULDN’T SQUEAK A SINGLE SQUEAK.
JENNY SAT DOWN, TIRED AND DISCOURAGED. “WHAT DO I DO NOW?” SHE WANTED TO
KNOW.
“OH, NO!” SHE LOOKED UNDERNEATH HER. SHE HAD CRUSHED ONE OF THE PRETTIEST
BUSHES.
“I’M SORRY,” SAID JENNY, “I DIDN’T MEAN TO SIT ON YOU.” SHE PICKED UP THE
BUSH, TRYING TO BE GENTLE, THE WAY SHE’D SEEN ART DO IT AND GRANITE BOY
STARTED TO SQUEAL LIKE MAD.
“THAT’S IT ISN’T IT?” CRIED JENNY WITH A SHRIEK OF JOY. “THE TRINKETS ÁÑÎÑÄÑ
THE GARDEN!” SHE SET ABOUT REARRANGING EVERYTHING JUST THE WAY IT SHOULD
BE.
GRANITE BOY ADDED HIS RHYTHM AS SHE PICKED UP FLOWERS AND BUSHES AND PUT
THEM DOWN AGAIN.
WITH EVERY MOVE, THE SCENE GOT BETTER AND GRANITE BOY WAS A SYMPHONY OF
SOUNDS.
WHEN, AT LAST, THE GARDEN WAS JUST THE WAY SHE WANTED IT, ART APPEARED,
WALKING SLOWLY UP THE GARDEN PATH. HE LOOKED TIRED. “ART!!” JENNY CRIED
OUT WITH JOY, “YOU’RE BACK!!”
“YES, JENNY,” SAID ART, “THANKS TO YOU. YOU BROUGHT ME BACK BUT I CAN ONLY
STAY AWHILE. THANK-YOU FOR TAKING CARE OF GRANITE BOY. YOU DON’T NEED HIM
ANYMORE.” AND HE PUT OUT HIS HAND.
“BUT I DO!” CRIED JENNY, “HE HELPED ME FIND YOU.” “JUST ARRANGE THINGS THE
WAY YOU FEEL THEM, THE WAY YOU KNOW THEY SHOULD BE AND BOTH OF US WILL BE
BACK.” SAID ART, TAKING GRANITE BOY GENTLY FROM HER.
“UNTIL NEXT TIME,” HE SAID, SMILING AND HE DISAPPEARED WITH GRANITE BOY INTO
AN EXPLOSION OF COLOR.