《Memory Lane》Amelia
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The dinner table was quiet as Alex and I took our seats. The only two chairs left were beside Marcus. I guessed that the others found it awkward to sit next to such a famous and accomplished man.
… or perhaps the girls didn’t want to sit next to an old man they’ve never met before. That’s especially understandable in the current circumstances.
Marcus was visually unremarkable, you wouldn’t be able to tell how influential a person he is just by looking at him. He was roughly seventy or eighty years old. Bluntly, he seemed to be on his last legs. He didn’t have many days left to be sure. His hair was gray and his face was covered in wrinkles. He wore a similar suit to William but with no bow-tie. Just sitting still, his hands shook gently.
‘Hello,’ Marcus spoke loudly, ‘I suppose that I’m your host on this island. As you know, I brought you all here to…’ he stopped for a moment, searching for the words. ‘see the future. I’d like to witness the finest of the youth so that I can understand what the future holds. So, what are all of your names, again?’
Unlike Lilah, his poor memory was understandable. It was probably due to age.
‘I’m Mary,’ The girl with long black hair spoke in a rough voice.
‘So that’s her name. I hadn’t gotten it until now. She hasn’t talked to anyone much, let alone me…’
‘I’m Alex. It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ He smiles as he tries his best to act professional.
‘Hehe! The name’s Lilah!’ The bespectacled girl in the beret laughed as she reached for a serving of food in the center of the table, following Mary’s lead.
‘I’m Daniel,’ I said.
A few moments passed as everyone’s gaze turned to the quiet brunette.
‘… I’m Amelia,’ she managed to squeak out.
‘Good, I’ll do my best to remember each of your names,’ Marcus gave a polite smile. ‘As you all know, I’m Marcus. But, pleasantries aside, you can all start eating. This feast is for you.’
My eyes were drawn to William who stood with his eyes closed just to the right and behind Marcus. He kept his posture strong and hadn’t even made a facial expression since dinner started.
Noticing the confusion on my face, Marcus spoke up, ‘Sorry about William. He takes his job very seriously. I insisted that he join us for dinner but this is as far as he’d go.’
Slowly, the rest of us began to serve ourselves some food. It felt so fancy. The food was extravagant. It was prepared almost perfectly and presented as though it were art. The taste was amazing as well. Even the food here was worthy of a billionaire.
Amelia was the only one who had yet to take a bite. She, as always, took impressive care in observing her surroundings, ‘… This food looks fantastic. Tell the chef that he’s one of a kind.’
‘No need!’ Marcus announced. ‘He’s right here, after all!’
‘Many thanks,’ William bowed slightly.
‘Wait... so he’s the captain, butler, and chef?’
Mary spoke up. Her voice was so beautiful, yet she always added an aggressive tone to it, ‘Speaking of, I haven’t seen any other staff. Is that butler really the only one doing any work around here?’
‘Of course,’ Marcus spoke in a proud tone. ‘William was something of a prodigy himself, back in the day. He’s managed to clean this mansion and take care of the garden day after day. He’s a wonderful chef and he’s even our captain for the boat! Truly a man of many talents.’
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William bowed once more, ‘I’m honored.’
‘His one fault is how polite he is,’ Marcus let out a hefty laugh. ‘He does so much for me but doesn’t seem to recognize his own importance… Anyway, since we’re all together, does anyone have questions for me? I certainly have questions for all of you.’
Immediately, unable to hide his excitement, Alex jumped up and asked, ‘How is it that you became so successful? What’s the secret? How can I make a company as great as yours?’
William, who had been unresponsive for everything that wasn’t about him, raised a brow.
Marcus couldn’t hide a troubled expression, ‘I… I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s a rocky road, and the top isn’t as bright as you think. It’s best not to aim for the top.’
‘In other words… give up.’
Everyone slowly stopped eating, except for Mary who didn’t seem bothered by the suddenly serious reply.
Alex looked shocked and disappointed before he sat down, ‘I see…’
Suddenly, everyone was quiet and left only the sounds of Mary eating her food with no regard for the current mood.
To lighten the atmosphere, Lilah spoke up, ‘Do you use all of the facilities here regularly? It’s hard to imagine someone as old as you actively using the tools in the workshop or swimming.’
‘Ah no, no. Not anymore. William filled the pool back up in preparation for your arrival. I figured it might be a fun activity for you all to bond over.’
‘I see!’ Lilah smiled at me. ‘We should all play sometime! Everyone here can swim, right?’
Everyone either nodded or gave an ‘mhm’ in approval.
‘I don’t really want to,’ Mary said as sour as always.
‘C’mon! The pool is fantastic! It’ll be fun~!’ Lilah insisted while playfully grabbing Mary’s arm and giving her puppy dog eyes.
Mary looked away and tried her best to ignore her, but it didn’t take long for her to sigh and reluctantly accept the offer.
‘Fine. But, let’s wait until tomorrow. I want to rest tonight.’
‘Yay!’
The rest of our dinner was uneventful. We all talked a bit more and asked Marcus a few more questions. Mary finished eating and left the table a little before everyone else. Eventually, Amelia and Lilah followed her lead.
Alex was pretty quiet after Marcus’ response to his question. Having your idol tell you that you shouldn’t keep chasing your dream must’ve hurt.
‘Well, it’s best that I just leave him alone. So, I guess I should meet Lilah in the garden now. The sun should start to set soon and she’ll be upset if I skip out on our portrait plans.’
I stepped out from the mansion’s giant doors and recalled an odd detail, The front door didn’t even have a lock. Well, actually, only the rooms that us kids were sleeping in and the bathrooms had locks in this mansion. I figured that living on an island meant not having to worry about intruders. Although there was one more locked room. Marcus’ office. Even though it already had a lock on it, William forbade us from entering.
‘Oh well. No use in thinking about it.’
I glanced around at the garden.
‘Exactly like I remember it,’ I thought as I let out a deep sigh.
Although, there was now an easel facing the sunset paired with a small chair. Sitting with her back to me, I could make out that it was Amelia, not Lilah. Lilah wasn’t even here. I looked around but she was nowhere to be seen.
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‘Hey,’ I tapped Amelia on the shoulder.
She let out a little yelp in surprise.
She swiftly turned around to get a look at my face, ‘H-hello!’
‘Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to startle you. Have you seen Lilah? She was supposed to meet me out here.’
‘No, sorry. Although I doubt I would’ve noticed her if she passed by…’
Amelia was very distracted. I sighed pretty loudly when I left the mansion but she didn’t notice. She didn’t hear my footsteps either, ‘What is she doing?’
I turned my eyes over her shoulder at the canvas on the easel. Painted on it was a very detailed brick path surrounded in flowers. In the distance there was an arc of water from a fountain in a pond. I could easily recognize the view. It’s the one that was right in front of us.
‘Ahhh!’ She saw me look over her shoulder and immediately stood up to block my view, ‘D-don’t look yet! It’s not complete. It still has a long way to go. At least you didn’t get a good look at it…’
Too bad for her, it was already memorized. It looked fantastic. Somehow, she painted the scenery nearly exactly the same as it looked right in front of us, but the brush strokes added a sort of charm to it that you could never find in reality. The colors were more vibrant and the occasional flower’s position was adjusted to look perfect. The painting invited me to rest and bask in the beauty of the things all around me. The things I took for granted. Almost impossibly, she managed to make the garden appear as though it was based off of the art. The already wonderful garden was only half as beautiful as the unfinished painting.
‘This isn’t even finished yet!? Wow. She’s a fantastic artist. But, wait…’
‘Hey, Amelia?’
‘Yeah…?’ She looked at me a little funny while keeping her body between my eyes and the canvas.
‘Why did Marcus invite you to the island?’
‘Well… I don’t like to say it but, apparently I’ve made some pretty good pieces of art.’
Modest.
‘Then… What's Lilah’s talent?’ I pondered aloud.
She pretended to have been the artist.
‘…Or maybe she didn’t? If I remember the conversation correctly, which I do, then she never actually said that she was the artist. I came to that conclusion all on my own. All she asked was if she could paint my portrait. No wonder she was laughing so hard… she got me good. Did she prepare the beret just for that!?’
‘Uh… What happened?’
‘Well, I guess, I thought Lilah was the artist because of her beret.’
‘Yeah, that struck me as odd too… I figured she was French,’ Amelia smiled a bit and giggled. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t trying to keep my talent a secret or anything. It just seemed like kind of a stigma around here to talk about it- kind of like bragging. Nobody else really seemed interested in who was talented at what. Although, you did tell everyone your talent.’
‘Actually, I was asked about my talent by Lilah when we first met. Now knowing her, she probably already knew it anyway.’
‘Well… uhm,’ Amelia forced a polite smile. ‘Could you turn around so that I can stop standing like this?’
‘Oh! Uhhh-’
Swiftly, I turned around. We had a whole conversation and I left her standing like that! Although, blocking the canvas wasn’t necessary.
A few moments passed as I listened to the sounds of Amelia moving around the easel and canvas.
‘Alright, you can look again. Sorry about that, I just feel really embarrassed about my art that I don’t feel is my best work.’
She put the canvas into a plastic bag containing a few more canvases that laid on the floor. There were a few more bags scattered around that contained small bottles of paint and various brushes.
‘Really? It looked great to me.’
For a moment there was silence and then suddenly her face grew bright red, ‘Y-you saw it!?’
That was a mistake.
‘Oh- uh… yeah. I remember it pretty well,’ Noticing the panic on her face I adjusted and began to nod in appreciation. ‘But it’s really well done! I’m not much of an art person, but it was really great!’
The barrage of compliments only did more damage. She placed her face in the palm of her hands and let out a tiny, ‘Aaaaaa.’
‘Um… do you have any “finished” pieces that I can look at?’
Slowly looking up, she nodded a bit, ‘Can you help me carry this all back to my room? I have some finished art there.’
Not wanting to refuse after making her so embarrassed, I picked up two bags and folded up the easel.
It was tough to press the buttons in the elevator with our hands full, but we eventually made it to her room.
The room was almost identical to mine. The main difference was that everything was on the opposite side that mine was. My bathroom was on the left side of my room while hers was on the right. Our rooms were on opposite sides of the hallway, so they ended up mirrored. It was a spacious area with a relatively large bed and a window overlooking the garden. An easel was already set up in her room next to the window.
Unexpectedly, the painting on it was not of the view through the window. The painting depicted a small island in the distance, surrounded by water. The island itself appeared lonely and sad. The blue of the water was much darker than that of the sky. The light from the sun seemed to avoid the island and the water grew darker as it approached the gray shore.
Of course, I’ve seen this view before as well. It’s what she was looking at so intently as I talked to Lilah and Alex on the deck of the ship.
The details weren’t perfect, however. The island itself looked a bit off. The trees weren’t in the right position either, though that’s to be expected. The art itself was abstracted intentionally to fit with the loneliness of the painting.
‘Is that one finished?’
‘Yeah. It’s not my best work, though.’
‘No, I think it looks great. What made you choose such melancholic colors?’
She gently set her bags down on the floor and then stared at the painting for a moment, ‘It must be sad- to live out here, on this island… all alone. Nobody would choose such a fate because “they like it this way.” My art isn’t usually so somber, but something about the scenery was emotional to me, so I captured it.’
Her talent was unquestionable. She had already painted two paintings since we arrived. And here I had spent my day staring at a clock. Although, I guess only one of her paintings was finished. Yet it was still better than anything I’ve ever made.
‘What’s wrong?’ She asked.
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ There was something about her art that stood out to me. Unlike most typical art I’ve seen, it managed to convey very specific emotions without a need for words. I suppose art is supposed to do that, but I’ve never seen a painting so effective. I guess I did have her explain it to me, but I only asked about the image because of how lonely it already felt. ‘How is it that you can paint your feelings so well?’
Although I didn’t expect a serious response to my question, she gave it her best shot, ‘I’m not entirely sure. I never really felt that my art was special, there’s plenty of artwork that does exactly what mine does. I think the only reason that I’m praised for this “talent” is because of my age. No one expects a child to be competent.’
‘Well that can’t be. I’m not really involved in art, but I’ve never seen pieces that were so expressive.’
Even though my words tried to be encouraging, she let out a sigh, ‘No. My art isn’t something that would make me famous.’
‘What do you mean? You are famous!’
‘Not for my art. I’m famous for my age. If I made these pieces just a few years later, I’d never have caught on the way I did,’ She looked at the lonely island painted onto the canvas. ‘My art conveys emotion, but when I look at the most famous contemporary art… there isn’t any. Most people don’t want to become emotionally invested in anything that they don’t have to. People use art as a way to distract themselves from harsh realities. So art that conveys emotion, especially negative, usually isn’t in demand. They already have their own lives to deal with, after all. The media just likes the fact that a child can paint, they don’t like the paintings. My art’s actual audience is very niche.’
‘Oh… so that’s the way it is huh? Well, at the very least, I was very moved seeing your artwork. I might be in that niche, myself.’
Amelia looked away from the lonely island and chuckled, ‘I’m glad.’
‘But, what does it say about a person who is interested in art such as this? Do they have no life taking up their limited emotional energy? Do they just have more emotional energy to spare? Or, perhaps they simply don’t invest their emotion into reality? It’s obvious what category I fall under, but what of Amelia, who creates such art?’
‘What made you become an artist?’ I asked, seeking an answer to my thoughts.
‘I assume this is true for all artists, but I was inspired. I used to be a very stressed person until I saw a piece of art that captured my attention. It was like I could understand the painting like it was a person. So, I tried to express and let go of my stress and feelings in the form of art. From then on I just kept creating art when I felt surrounded by feelings. I was relieved, being able to paint away my problems. One day my teacher saw my art and suggested that I should enter a competition. You probably know the rest from there.’
‘That’s incredible.’
‘She took a much different route from me. To think, she dealt with her overflow of emotion by painting it all away. She expressed how she felt and that was enough to relieve her. Would something of that nature have worked for me too? Oh well.’
I reiterated, ‘It really is.’
We talked a while longer that night. The conversation continued until it was time for me to sleep. All of us had to be tired. It was our first day on this island and our first time meeting each other.
I shut my door behind me and locked it. It felt like I hadn’t gone anywhere due to the similarities of our rooms, but there was no doubt that this was my room for the night. I remembered it well.
With a gentle click, I turned off my light and threw myself onto the bed. I had waited for it all day and finally, I allowed my mind to wander off as the monotonous world around me faded to black.
‘I’m back… Rose.’
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