THE WINDOW
By Julie Maitrejean
Copyright 2012 Julie Maitrejean
I reached out and touched the large window. Its smooth, cool surface met my fingers like an invisible wall. The sensation puzzled me. Always had.
I felt that somehow I stood outside a house peering in. The vast ravine of checkered flooring reached right and left under my window. A white wall rose high on the other side of the chasm. The Man in Metal stood holding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. I tried waving at him but he never moved.
Throughout the day people would walk by my window. Some lingered while others passed by without a glance.
At night a uniformed man would walk by with a dog and a flashlight. Sometimes I would try to follow them with my eyes and bump against the window, drawing too much attention to myself.
While the man never noticed me at all, for some reason the dog always did. She would look right at me and bark until the man made her follow him away.
When the people were gone and the lights dimmed I would walk on the bright green grass that lay soft under my bare feet. The sun always shone on my side of the window. The trees felt so real although everything remained still. Unless I dangled my legs off the dock and dipped my toes in the pond, the water didn’t move either.
I didn‘t know where I had come from or anything about myself at all. I only knew this simple yet perplexing life.
Oftentimes the people who looked at me would make comments. Their speech sounded muddled from this side of the window, but I could make out some of the words.
“I like her dress.” “Her hair is long.” “She looks very young.”
The younger ones didn’t have much time for me. Their remarks, if any, struck me as critical. The ones that made comments usually said, “I’m glad women don’t have to wear dresses like that anymore.”
My name is Danielle. At least that is what I have heard many say.
My surroundings never changed. To my right stood a big, bright red barn. A tree with huge branches and beautiful leaves rose tall. Behind me lay a pond with a dock reaching the center.
I could only go a short distance in each direction. I had tried many times to go as far as I could while no one was watching. I always end up back where I started.
Often I wondered where these people came from and where they left. Once, curiosity got the best of me. I pressed my face so hard to the glass to watch them walk away that the window cracked, making a clear view more difficult.
Sometimes people would get so close they scared me. The closer they got, the larger they appeared. Their heads were the size of the window as they peered in.
One day a group of children came and stared at me. Some expressed interest in what they saw. Others obviously didn’t want to be there.
One child lifted his hand and threw something. The window shattered. The object that the child threw struck my cheek.
A startling sharp pain made me touch the object, which now protruded from my face.
I pulled my hand away and looked. Something red dripped from my fingers. Some of the pain eased but the throbbing remained.
The man in uniform ushered the children away. He put a black device to his mouth and spoke into it.
Two people whom I had never seen before came and inspected me. They wore strange clothes. The woman was dressed similar to the man, wearing a thick black jacket and matching pants. Their expressions conveyed surprise.
The man, a young fellow, spoke first, asking, “Is that blood?”
“Maybe the kid was hurt when he threw the rock,” the woman replied.
Two women rolled a cart up to me. Each took a side of my window and hoisted it onto the cart, laying me on my back.
Moments later I felt myself moving as they wheeled me away. I noticed strange things passing by. Some were huge statues. Some resided behind windows much like mine. Others were scary creatures, while many appeared delicate and pretty.
The motion made the water behind me ripple and splash. The grass waved. Air blew past my face. The barn creaked and my dress rustled. This was the most frightening thing that had ever happened to me.
When the cart stopped, the women picked me up again and laid me on a raised flat surface. Bright lights shone down nearly blinding me.
A man appeared from nowhere and leaned over me, examining closely. He held a long metal object. He used it to remove the protruding thing from my cheek. Then he lifted and propped me upright again. After a few moments the man walked away.
Just then, I noticed a woman with long dark red hair that reached her waist. Her beautiful blue dress touched the ground. A gold necklace lay perfectly around her neck.
The barn next to her looked just like the barn that stood next to me. The tree, the dock and the water were also identical to mine.
The lights quickly dimmed, startling me, but remained just bright enough so I could still see. When everyone left the room I stepped closer to the window to get a better look and noticed the woman looked directly at me.
I leaned to where the window usually stopped me and realized I could stick my head through. The room outside was huge. My excitement overrode my fear of stepping inside my window for the first time.
She had the same idea I did. She made the same motions as I. I raised my hand, she raised hers. I stepped forward, so did she. I decided to dance, thinking she couldn’t possibly know which steps I would make. It annoyed me immensely when she performed the exact same moves.
A red mark marred her face, reminding me of my still-throbbing cheek. My annoyance got the best of me when I walked quickly toward her and she came at me just as fast. We bumped into each other and both fell backward.
For the brief moment that we were in contact she felt as smooth and cold as my window had before it had broken.
Watching her as we both stood to our feet I came to realize that she was I, perhaps even an image of me. I reached to touch her. Our fingertips met perfectly. My pulse quickened at this discovery.
Then I heard a familiar sound: The dog barking. It grew louder and closer.
I thought my heart would pound right out of my chest. I turned around. I hadn’t realized that I had come this far into my window. My barn and tree looked so small. I stood on a flat surface with a soft layer on top that threatened to make me slip when I walked. It shifted under my feet.
I had to get back through the window. The barking grew louder as the dog approached. I wouldn’t make it back in time.
Hearing a strange click, I turned to look. A section of the wall moved. Light streamed in from around the crease of this wall. It swung open.
I looked for a place to hide. Beside me stood a big hot cylinder standing on end. I slipped behind it.
I peered past the hot round thing. The dog saw me and barked furiously. She rose on her hind legs and put her front paws on the surface in front of me. I fell backward. The soft layer below me jerked. The cylinder toppled, spilling steaming dark liquid.
I scrambled to escape the scalding black wave. My only route of escape was to jump onto the dog’s back.
The dog wiggled vigorously, trying to make me let go. She even sat down and tried to scratch me off with her foot. I hung on even tighter. The harder I gripped the harder the dog scratched and shook. Finally the man pulled the leash, distracting her enough to make the shaking stop. Nonetheless, the flesh under the fur I grasped continued to twitch.
Without thinking I climbed up on the dog’s neck and sat down as she followed the man in uniform.
I gripped the fur as the speed picked up. They walked down a long dark hallway and entered a small room where the wall closed behind them. They stopped but it felt like we were still moving.
When the wall opened again they resumed walking
. I looked around and saw more images, as far as I could see. Many more windows like my own hung on the walls. Some were huge. Others were the same size as mine.
While they moved, my hands rubbed the dog’s soft fur. The man in uniform stopped to shine his light down one of the dim hallways. The dog stopped as well. She turned her big head and sniffed my face. Then a huge tongue licked me. I had to use my skirt to wipe the wetness off. When I looked back at my dress the redness from my face had smeared on it.
The man turned off his light and led the dog further until we came to a familiar place. The Man in Metal and the lighting along one wall were the same that I looked at every day. This was the hallway that my window usually looked in upon.
He stopped and began reading something under an empty spot on the opposite wall. It was a beautiful brown plaque with gold writing. It read:
Danielle Ann Masters
Born May 3, 1880
Died of Scarlet Fever November 23, 1909
Painted in loving memory of my wife -- the most beautiful woman and mother of my seven children
Signed: Alex N. Masters
Note: According to lore, Masters painted this portrait with his wife’s blood. Thus some have claimed that her spirit lives in the painting.
I slowly realized that I was a painted image. I am this woman who died from a disease. I had a husband and a family. My surroundings were part of my home and where I had once lived.
The man in uniform began to move again. He returned to the room where my window waited. The dog moved near the raised flat surface and I climbed off her back. I eagerly walked back into my window.
A strange ease came over me. I had returned to where I belonged. The familiar surroundings calmed me. The tree, the barn, and the water were all I needed to feel at home. I took a deep breath.
Thoughts of what the man had read off the wall gave me a new view of my small world. Those words had become my link to the life I had once lived and a memory that my husband had wanted to preserve.
Pride in my surroundings and newfound sense of purpose filled me. I did have a reason for standing in this window at which so many come to gaze. My husband painted my picture after I had passed and that was a memory that would live on.
The darkness of the night faded. The new dawn approached. The strange man who had leaned over me the day before returned. This time I noticed the name pinned on his shirt: Dr. John Masters.
He began to talk as though to me. “I suppose you think I’m crazy for getting a Doctorate in Fine Arts just to keep you in perfect shape, grandma.”
He took a stick with a soft end and brushed my face and my dress with it. When he was done he picked me up and laid me flat. Then I watched as he laid a sheet of fresh glass on top of me. My window had been replaced.
Then he laid me on the cart again and took me back. He securely hung me back on the wall.
I stood more proudly than before. Through this experience I had gained a friend who noticed me more than anyone else. The dog, with every passing, stopped to stare. She even protected me at times. When someone would get too close to my window she would growl until they backed away.
The man in uniform might have typically just walked by without stopping as he always had -- but now, each night, the dog would make him pause, ever so briefly.
I had made a friend who looked after me.
THE END
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