The Enterprise of Death - Jesse Bullington [184]
On the last night Manuel even brought out his charcoal for a sketch or two, and though he protested greatly, Awa insisted on trading him the Judgment of Paris he had given her so long ago in exchange for the new drawings. They showed her as she was, she said, not for how he had hidden her under pale skin and European features. He knew she was right, and was secretly pleased to have his favorite painting returned to him. The ladies hung the new sketches beside the drawing of Awa that Monique had taken from Manuel’s studio years before and the portrait of Chloé that had started Awa’s collection, and after giving only a slight pause to their merrymaking for somber nostalgia, they resumed drinking and laughing.
After Monique had passed out, which she was still more than capable of when she activated her undead organs for the purpose of enjoying herself, and Manuel had drifted off on the floor beside her, Awa poured herself a final drink and watched her friends sleep. It might seem a little creepy, she knew, but then few things about her life were not to an outside observer. She sipped the schnapps and let her mind drift all the way back to those friends who would not be visiting, those faces she would never see again barring some unlikely twist of fate or postmortem reunion, to Chloé and Paracelsus and Manuel’s family and the bandit chief Alvarez and Ysabel and Johan and Halim and even Omorose, and then she finished her drink and blew out the candle.
The spirits of the hearth still crackled softly as Awa squirmed between Manuel and Monique. They were both warm despite one being very much alive and the other rather dead, and Awa sighed happily—there was no place she would rather be, and she fought off sleep as long as she could to extend the night just a little bit more. When the three friends parted late the next morning they did so with only the slightest tinge of the sorrow that always accompanies the departure of dear comrades, and promised to see one another again soon.
Niklaus Manuel Deutsch died before the spring was out. His remains were interred quietly into Bern’s new parish churchyard on the east bank of the Aare, but he lived on in the memories of those who had known him, and was remembered fondly by even a few of his enemies. Each year, on the Autumn Solstice, Awa and Monique made the pilgrimage to the churchyard to lay edelweiss at the head of the artist, and then the two women would walk hand in hand between the moonlit tombstones, back to their home.
Bibliography
In addition to the following texts, I had a few stand-up individuals assist me in my research. First and foremost is Armand Baeriswyl of the Archeological Service of the Canton of Bern, who provided monumental aid in rendering sixteenth-century graverobbing, among other details, while being entirely too humble about it. I also need to thank Kameelah Martin Samuel at GSU for introducing me to some of the concepts I’ve explored here, Claire Joan Farago at CU-Boulder for suggesting several marvelous books that are included below, Erika Johnson-Lewis for providing me with the basics of Renaissance art when I was at FSU, and my friend Molly for sharing her own expertise with me. Finally, my high school art teacher Linda Hall deserves a shout-out, if only because she happens to be very cool.
Albala, Ken. Cooking in Europe, 1250–1650. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2006.
Allen, S. J., and Emilie Amt. The Crusades: A Reader. Peterborough, ON: Broadview Press, 2003.
Amman, Jost. Kunstbüchlin: 293 Renaissance Woodcuts for Artists and Illustrators. New York: Dover, 1968.
Argyle, W. J. The Fon of Dahomey: A History and Ethnography of the Old Kingdom. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1966.