The Enterprise of Death - Jesse Bullington [65]
“And then … bam! I’m sober as a churchm—I’m sober as he is, dead sober, well, not really sober sober, but a helluva lot more sober than I’ve been, and I realize what I’ve done but there’s nothing for it and he’s turning bright red and he’s shakin and then I stop worryin bout losing the commission because he’s about to keel over dead of shock, and then I’ll have a dead abbot on my hands and …”
“And?” Awa said when Manuel did not continue. “And what?”
“And”—Manuel grinned—“and he turns to me, and says, My boy, I’ll buy the lot!”
“Oh, Manuel,” said Awa, suddenly feeling more sober than she actually was. “Your art won him over! That’s, that’s so … it’s so wonderful!”
“Well.” Manuel deflated a bit. “ I thought it was funny. Cause … cause I thought he was horrified? But he was really just excited? Abbots aren’t supposed to be interested in women.”
“I still don’t see why not,” said Awa, and, picking up on his disappointment, she added, “And it’s funny, too, really it is, it’s just kind of beautiful, too, isn’t it? Not even him who’s supposed to go without to please his god can resist your ladies!”
“Yeah?” Manuel blinked at her.
“Yes! You didn’t sell them all, did you? I’d love to see your vivid ones, Manuel, I’d love it so much!” Awa had gotten to her feet.
“Well, I sold those,” said Manuel, “but I’ve got loads more, and yeah, once I go home you should visit Bern, I’ll show you all my ladies.”
“Yes!” Awa spun around on her invisible hoof. “Pretty, pretty! I love your ladies, Manuel!”
“I’ve got one in my pack of Katharina, I think you saw her when I, when I …”
“Was dead? I did indeed, Niklaus Manuel Deutsch of Bern, and I tell you now, on my word, I did not know one could fall in love with a picture before seeing her, and the smaller one I kept. I wanted to press the plank to my lips and …” Awa stopped spinning. She knew from her tutor’s nigh-endless ridicule what men thought of women who liked other women, and for all his open-minded qualities Manuel might—
“You like, like girls? Like I do?” Manuel blinked. “Ohhhhhhhh. I see. I do.”
“You do?” Awa gnawed the inside of her cheek.
“I do,” said Manuel. “My friend Monique’s, er, lady-minded, too. Likes girls, I mean. So that’s, you know, not a big deal. To me. Most women, right, and men, they don’t get it, but yeah. Women are beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Awa said, amazed yet again by her fabulous friend. She might cry, and of course as soon as she thought that her eyes started in with their old dampening.
“And I’ll pass on the compliment to my wife.” Manuel frowned at his empty skin, and seeing Awa’s confused expression said, “The model. For the bigger one? Curly hair. Katharina. Don’t use her for the commissions, she asked me not to, the one I did for Bernardo’s a pretty little whore was with us just fore we hit Lombardy. Can’t recollect her name but she was decent enough a subject. She’d make a good Salome, yes indeed …”
Awa had stopped paying attention, too guilt-ridden over her amorous thoughts regarding Manuel’s wife. She had nearly taken matters in hand while looking at the portrait, and with the artist—and husband—lying behind her watching, a little dead and powerless to speak. Awa imagined herself sliding her hand down the trousers she had stolen from the dead Bernardo and shuddered—could they have ever been friends if she had done that, if he had seen what a nasty little beast she was? Could she—
“What?” Awa’s mouth said, capturing the attention of her mind. He had said something.
“I said,” Manuel repeated, “I’ll introduce you to Monique. My friend? She likes whores but I always imagined that’s cause they’re more inclined to keep secrets and play different. Never know, you two might hit it off—”
“No thanks,” Awa said quickly.
“Already got someone?” “No!”
“Oh,” said Manuel, finally appreciating that he had hit a nerve. “Well, you know, if you change your mind …”
They stood together by the fire for some time, utterly missing the many opportunities to look into one another’s eyes and cast aside their old loves, the myriad chances