Artist: Caspar David Friedrich, Abby in the Oakwood
Cathlene walks into her new townhouse carrying a box. The movers were bringing in her furniture and appliances. All that was left were a few boxes to unpack. She notices a strange painting hanging on the living room wall as she places the box on the glass coffee table. A dark sky decorates the top of the piece making the ruins below appear sinister. Graves adorn the area around it with shady dead trees resting in the background behind the ruins. A small crescent moon sits in the dark sky, trying not to be smothered by the darkness. A chill runs down her spine at the foreboding scene. Something gently brushes against her leg, causing Cathlene to jump, breaking her concentration. Looking down, she sees her cat, Tyra. Chuckling at her unnecessary fear, Cathlene returns outside to grab more boxes.
Carrying in the boxes, Cathlene can’t help but feel drawn to the piece. Was it the eerie atmosphere? The strange fog in the backdrop? Turning away from it, Cathlene forces herself to focus on the boxes piling up around her. The movers continue bringing in the heavy furniture, placing it in the requested rooms. Once the movers departed, Cathlene began unpacking her things from the boxes. After putting everything in their places, her eyes rest on the painting once more. Picking up her phone, she contacts the realtor.
“Hello, Ms. Oliver, I’m Cathlene Donner, from the townhouse at 15 Fall Meadow. I was wondering if the previous owners were missing a painting. It’s a gothic-looking piece. I’d hate for them to have left this behind.” Cathlene explains, hoping the owners will be able to retrieve it.
“Ah, Miss Donner, I can certainly ask for you. Thank you for letting me know; some would keep an artwork, assuming it came with the place. Do you have any other questions or concerns?”
Cathlene shakes her head, “oh no, everything is fine, the place is perfect.”
The realtor says her goodbyes as Cathlene hangs up the phone. Staring at the dark sky and rubble of the painting, Cathlene walks close to it, seeing a splotch near one of the trees behind the ruins. Taking one finger, Cathlene places it on the splotch only to find it isn’t a flaw but a raised piece of paint. The sharp part sinks into Cathlene’s finger, causing a small bead of blood to appear. Instinctively, she places her finger into her mouth, tasting the coppery taste. Seeing a red mark where the jagged paint stuck her finger causes anxiety to rise within her. If the owners see a red dot on their painting, they might be furious. What can I do? If I try to clean it, I might make it worse. Should I call Howard? He might know since he is the owner of an art gallery. I doubt he’d want to talk to me after the divorce.
Cathlene remembers the horrible fight just before; he was angry with her for working so much. They should’ve never gotten married; their busy schedules didn’t leave much time for them. Sighing, Cathlene dials his number, hoping he would be willing to help.
“Hello,” the all-familiar voice comes over the line, surprising Cathlene.
“Hello Howard, before you hang up, can you take a look at a painting for me? I think the previous owners left it, and I may have left a bloody smear on it.”
A long pause makes Cathlene nervous. “How did you get blood on it?”
“I thought there was something on it; when I went to wipe it off, it turned out to be a raised piece of paint which pricked my finger.”
Chuckles, on the other line, create a smile across Cathlene’s face. “Figures, only you would do something like that. Sure, I’ll take a look at it; anything else you’d like to know about the piece?”
Cathlene sighs, “well, I don’t think I’ll have it for too long, but I guess you can tell me whatever you find interesting.”
“Alright, I can do that. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow since the gallery is typically closed on Saturday mornings? Hopefully, the owners don’t pick it up before then.”
“Don’t jinx it; with my luck, they probably will be by first thing.” Cathlene gives a slight laugh.
“I’ll see you tomorrow; I have customers at the moment,” Howard announces before ending the call.
Cathlene sighs, slightly nervous about seeing her husband after a year. It took a while for her to find a place of her own. She had to live with her friend Susan for the time being. Sighing at the memory, Cathlene looks around and grins. I’m ecstatic I was able to find something after months of searching. Not that I don’t appreciate what Susan did for me, but her place is too cramped for another person. With her husband and three children, there isn’t a lot of space. Yawning, Cathlene peaks at the clock; it reads ten o’clock. When her silver tabby Jax meows at her while staring at his food dish, the realization that she forgot to feed them in the hassle of the move causes Cathlene’s cheeks to turn a scarlet red.
Opening a can of chicken and vegetables, Cathlene splits the small can between Jax and Tyra. As the food reaches the dish, Tyra comes running from somewhere in the living room. Laughing, Cathlene cleans the can out and puts it in the recycle bin. Hearing her stomach rumble, Cathlene decides to warm up a cup o’ noodles. With the fridge empty and the late evening, Cathlene didn’t feel like cooking. I’ll have to go to the store after I meet with Howard. Hopefully, it’s not too difficult to fix, and the owners won’t be by to pick it up until tomorrow evening.
As the microwave dings, alerting Cathlene that her makeshift dinner is ready. She curls up on the couch and waits for the soup to cool. Feeling herself drift off to sleep, she opens her eyes, quickly eats the soup and stumbles up to sleep.
Day 1
Sunlight pours into the bedroom, awakening Cathlene to the day. Tyra lies on the pillow next to her while Jax is lying at the bottom of the bed. Getting up gently to not hurt Jax, Cathlene grabs some clothes from the dresser, walks into the bathroom, and starts the shower. Hopping in, her cats wait outside, meowing for food. Stepping out of the shower, Cathlene grabs a towel hanging on the rack. Drying herself off, she blow-dries her hair, applies makeup, fixes her hair, and gets dressed in a pale purple dress.
Walking back into the bedroom, Cathlene slips on her black pumps and then goes downstairs for breakfast. When she realizes there’s nothing in her fridge to make. Sighing, Cathlene decides to grab something on the way to Howard’s gallery. Quickly feeding the cats their breakfast, Cathlene cleans out their litter box and water dish. Filling their water bowl with fresh, clean water, Cathlene heads out the door taking one last glance at the painting before walking out the door. As Cathlene is about to walk to her car, she realizes she forgot her keys. Going back inside, Cathlene looks at the small table near the doorway and finds her keys in the small bowl. Then realizes she forgot to grab the painting. Taking it off the wall, she carries the large picture to the door, takes the keys, and walks out the door. Let’s try this again. Cathlene thinks to herself as she locks up, heads to her car, and drives to the nearest coffee shop.
Ordering a coffee with extra cream and regular sugar along with a blueberry Danish. Cathlene enjoys the Danish on the way to the gallery. As she pulls into the parking lot, Howard’s car is already parked. I hope I’m not late. With a sigh of relief, she sees that it’s only nine. Getting out of the car, Cathlene grabs her coffee and purse before closing the door. Pressing the key fob button, the car chirps signifying the vehicle is locked.
Walking towards the tinted glass door, she nervously wonders if Howard can see her to get the door. A few moments tick by before the door opens. A man in a black suit, long black hair, a goatee, and green eyes stands in the doorway.
“Hello, Cate. Did you forget the painting?”
A deep sigh escapes her lips, “it’s in the car. My hands are kind of full. Do you mind getting it?” Cathlene gives a sheepish smile.
Howard shakes his head, “sure, I guess I don’t have much of a choice. Can I have your keys?”
“I’ll do you one better.” Cathlene presses the keyfob again to unlock the doors since the keys were still in her hand.
Howard squeezes by her, “thank you.” He says before walking to her car to retrieve the sizeable dark painting.
Cathlene holds the door open for him as he carries the piece into the building. She walks over to her car to shut the door. Then presses the key fob once more before following after Howard into the gallery. Various art pieces line the building walls; the dark hardwood floor contrasts the white walls pleasantly. Cathlene’s heels click on the wood as she follows Howard through the gallery to the back, where a black door rests in the wall. Two staircases wind their way to the floors above. Cathlene wonders how big the place is; she assumed the gallery was only on the bottom floor.
Her attention returns to Howard’s back as he disappears behind the door. In the next room lies crates and various paintings with a table in the center. Howard places the artwork on the table. Cathlene can see the blemish looks more prominent but ignores it. With a magnifying glass in hand, Howard inspects the piece. A tense silence sits in the room. Cathlene was never good with silence.
“What’s the verdict? Will the owners know that I ruined their painting?”
Without looking at Cathlene, “where did you get blood on this? I don’t see anything out of place.”
Cathlene’s brow scrunches in confusion, “what do you mean?” she questions, standing across from him at the table. Looking down, she doesn’t see any red spot indicating she even pricked her finger. Wondering if she had dreamed the whole thing, Cathlene glances at her finger to find a scabbed-over pinprick from the piece of paint.
“Sorry, but it’s true. Did you just want to see me?” Howard looks up at her with a playful grin.
“No, of course not. I honestly thought I ruined their painting.” Cathlene tries in vain to defend her motives.
Howard chuckles at her, “it’s fine. Let’s see what I can find out about the piece, so you at least didn’t waste a trip.” Howard exclaims before flipping the painting over.
“What are you doing?” Cathlene tilts her head sideways.
“Looking at the back of a canvas can tell you a lot about the piece.”
“What?” Cathlene questions with a quizzical smile.
Howard places his hands on either side of the painting as his eyes meet Cathlene’s, “okay. The canvas is a dark beige; instead of staples, nails were used, and these wooden pieces are called stretchers. They’re in the shape of an H. All of these, including the medium, tell me how old it is.”
As Howard is about to tell her the age, Cathlene’s phone rings; picking up the phone, she realizes that the voice belongs to the realtor, Ms. Oliver. “Hello, Ms. Donner, I have some, I guess, good news. The painting you mentioned, the previous owners have no idea what you are talking about. They aren’t missing any of their possessions. So the painting you found is yours to do with as you please.”
Cathlene bites her lip, causing Howard to look up at her distressed face. He mouths the words, “Is everything okay?”. Cathlene shakes her head, “that’s impossible; who would have left an art piece like that in my home?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Miss Donner; maybe someone sent you a housewarming present. I’m sure you’ll figure out the mystery behind the painting. If there are no pressing matters with the house, take care. Call if anything comes up.” Ms. Oliver exclaims before ending the call.
Cathlene stares at her phone in disbelief. Slipping her phone back into her purse, she turns her attention to her ex-husband. “Did you send me the painting?”
Howard raises an eyebrow at her accusatory stare, “why would I send you a painting?”
Cathlene turns her attention to the floor, unsure who would send her something like that.
“I take it; the original owners did not leave the piece behind?”
Cathlene nods in response, “I don’t understand; it was hanging on the wall in the dining room when I first entered the house. Maybe one of the movers brought it in, but I have no idea where they found it.”
Howard’s gaze returns to the painting, “well, I can tell you this, the painting is at least from the 18th century, meaning it’s old. The art piece is an oil painting. However, I’m not sure who painted it. There’s no signature or anything to give me at least a link to the artist. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take some photos of it and continue researching this. I’m curious, especially with how dark it is.”
Cathlene shakes her head, “I don’t care, do what you want to satisfy your curiosity. I’m going to try calling friends and family to see if they sent me something.”
“I’d wait on that and call the movers first. Maybe one of them hung it up for you while you were grabbing boxes or something.”
Cathlene nods, “okay, sure. I’ll do that later.” Taking a sip of her cold coffee, she turns away from the table, deep in thought.
Howard takes a few photos of the back before turning it over. Walking over, he flicks all the lights on. Cathlene squints her eyes in response. The camera flashes a couple of times before Howard dims the lights once more.
“How are you besides the painting mystery?” Howard tentatively asks while focusing on the task at hand.
Cathlene turns around, “I’ve been doing fine. Busy with work. Lots of new cases, it seems they’re never-ending. How has the gallery been doing?”
“Busy, we’re having a show in a few weeks, so I’ve been busy preparing for it. Tons of new customers on top of it, which doesn’t help. New clients too who want to showcase their work.”
Cathlene nods as Howard meets her gaze, both wanting to ask the question looming in the air between them. Walking over to the table, Cathlene looks down at the painting. “You probably need to get ready for the day; feel free to contact me if you find any more information about the painting. I’m kind of curious as well.” She finishes her coffee, throws the cup away in the wastebasket against the far wall, away from all the artwork.
Howard shakes his head, “sure, I can do that. Let me know if you find out who sent the painting. Take care of yourself.”
Cathlene nods, shoulders her bag, slides the painting gently off the table and picks it up with both hands. Howard moves ahead of her to get the doors. Outside, the sunlight causes Cathlene to squint, unable to see. As she gets close to the car, her keys are still in her purse. Shit. Howard stands next to Cathlene, “here, let me take that so you can get your keys.” Digging in her bag, she pulls out the keys, hits the key fob twice to unlock the doors. Opening the backseat, Howard gently slides it inside. Shutting the door, Cathlene gets into the driver’s seat. As she closes the door, Howard disappears into the gallery.
Sighing, Cathlene stares at the door for a few moments before starting the vehicle. Driving home, she returns the painting to its place in the kitchen/dining room. She writes a quick list of things to buy at the grocery store and departs once more. On her way back from the store, Cathlene tells the car to call the moving company. A gruff voice answers, “Philips Movers, how can I help you?”
“Hello, I’m Cathlene Donner. Two of your guys helped me move into my townhouse yesterday. I was…”
“There wasn’t a problem, was there?” The man interrupts.
“Oh no, they did a great job. I was just wondering if one of them hung a painting on my wall. You see, I’ve been trying to track down the owner, and I think they may have thought it belonged to me, but the artwork was delivered to the wrong home.”
Silence on the other end, “what was your name again? I’ll write your information down and ask my workers if they know anything about the painting.”
“Yes, of course, thank you,” Cathlene repeated the information, spelling everything before ending the call.
Back at the townhouse, she carries all the bags of groceries into the kitchen before putting everything away. I should’ve asked if Howard would like to have dinner sometime. I hate to admit it, but I miss his company even if we didn’t see each other all that much. We’d try to plan date nights, but something would always cause us to cancel. Late nights at the office, meetings, research, clients. Cathlene sighs when she realizes a tear has fallen down her face.
Wiping her eyes, she turns her focus on making dinner. Looking through the cabinets trying to determine what she is in the mood to make for dinner. Deciding on pasta, she pulls out the boxes and a jar of sauce. Filling a pot with water, she places it on the stove. While she waits for the water to boil, Cathlene calls her friend Susan.
“Hey, Cate, how are you? Everything okay?” The sweet voice answers.
Cathlene sits at the small dining room table. “Yeah, everything is fine. I saw Howard today; I can’t believe it’s been a year.”
Worry tints her voice, “are you sure you’re okay? That divorce was difficult; I still can’t believe the two of you made that decision. You two were so happy.”
“I’m good; it was best for the two of us, though. What is a relationship when you never see each other? We were like strangers or ghosts vacating the same house. There one minute, gone the next.”
“I get that; I think you two could’ve figured it out. But how is the hunk?”
Cathlene couldn’t help but giggle at her friend’s remark. “he seems good; his gallery is picking up. I guess he has a show in a few weeks or something. Staying busy, like myself.”
“I take it you didn’t ask if he was seeing anyone. Have you even been on a date since?” Susan pushed, knowing the answer.
“Of course not, and I haven’t had the time to go on a date. I barely see you; how often was I even in the house when I was staying with you?”
Susan lets out a sound of exasperation, “true, but it’s not healthy to be wrapped up in work. You need a vacation. I think that was the problem with you two; neither one of you wanted to take time off.”
“You know Howard just started the gallery a couple of years prior, he couldn’t exactly leave right at that crucial moment, and I had the huge murder case.”
With a voice of disproval, “I guess. Where did you see Howard anyways? Doubt he was just down the street, and you happened to see him.” Susan laughs.
“No, but it’s tied to a weird mystery I have on my hands right now.”
“Ooo, do tell. I love mysteries.” Susan perked up on the other end.
Cathlene looks at the painting still hanging on the wall where she had placed it. “Okay, well, I have a painting hanging on my wall. I thought it belonged to the previous owners because it was here when I was bringing in my things.” Cathlene pauses, then looks away. “I called Howard because I thought I got a mark on the piece and wanted to see how bad I ruined the painting.”
“Oh my goodness, was he able to fix it? How did you get a mark on the painting?” Cathlene had Susan’s complete interest.
“I thought there was a splotch or something on the painting. I touched it, but a sharp piece of paint stabbed me. No such mark was found, though, when Howard inspected it. To make it more interesting, the previous owners had no idea what I was talking about since all of their belongings are accounted for.”
“That is strange. I wonder where it came from. Did Howard send it since he loves art? Maybe as a peace offering.”
Cathlene jumps at the sound of boiling water. “I thought that too, but he denied it. Which makes sense; we haven’t spoken in over a year. He also doesn’t know where I’m living now. What is weird, though, is I only live thirty minutes from his gallery.”
Susan chuckles, “that’s not weird. The city isn’t that big, plus you wanted to be close to your firm.” Susan pauses, “have you called the post office? Maybe it was delivered to the wrong house, and the realtor brought it inside.”
Cathlene pours the pasta into the pot, “it’s possible, I guess. But wouldn’t it be in a box or something?”
“That’s true, umm…maybe your mom sent you it or your sister? Could also be someone from the firm since you do like art.”
Cathlene shakes her head, “no, I don’t think so. I know I told Howard that maybe someone I know sent it. But now that I’m thinking about it, it should’ve been in a box not hanging on the wall.”
Opening the jar of sauce, she pours the contents into the saucepan and turns on the burner. “It is a mystery that leaves too many questions without any answers. Hopefully, you can find out the answers. Must be frustrating.” Cathlene can hear kids screaming in the background.
“Yeah, but it’s fine. I’m sure someone will find something. You seem to have your hands full; you want to call me tomorrow?”
“Sure, so sorry. My kid’s beckon. How is the townhouse? Been meaning to ask.”
Cathlene stirs the pasta, “it’s lovely. I couldn’t ask for anything better. It’s perfect for my cats and me. I think I’m turning into the crazy cat lady” Cathlene laughs at her joke.
“Be careful, hard to come back from that stage in your life. Glad you like the flat, though. I’ll have to come by sometime; we need a girls’ night anyways. Maybe I can find you a date unless you already have your eye on someone.”
“Just stop,” Cathlene says with a slight chuckle. “Call me tomorrow and have a good night with your family.”
“Will do; try to get some sleep. I know how you get with puzzles; they keep you awake.” Susan slyly adds before ending the call.
Cathlene finishes making her dinner, pouring the finished spaghetti into the pasta bowl. Pouring a glass of wine, she places everything at the table before attending to her cats. After dinner, Cathlene cleans up everything, then stares at the painting with pursed lips. I don’t like it here. The hallway outside my bedroom is bare; maybe I’ll place this there. I’ll see it as I get up the stairs and pass it every time I go to my room or the bathroom. With those final thoughts, Cathlene takes it off the wall. Grabbing a hammer from the tiny closet and a nail, Cathlene is about to go upstairs; when she stops, putting everything back in its place. Cathlene looks through one of the drawers looking for the no damage wall mounts for pictures. Her hand grazes a plastic box, pulling it out; she utters a sigh of relief, fearing she didn’t have any. Going to the upstairs hallway, Cathlene looks for the right spot. Walking back downstairs to retrieve the painting, carrying it upstairs, she rests it against the wall.
After placing the wall mounts on the wall, she sets the picture on it. Stepping back, Cathlene admires her work, ensuring the piece isn’t crooked and stable. Feeling pleased with her work, Cathlene puts the small box back where she found it, then gets ready for bed. Sleep finds her, but something awakens her in the middle of the night. Rolling over, Cathlene sees the bright light reading two-thirty a.m. Sighing, unsure what disturbed her, Cathlene gets up goes to the bathroom. A sudden uneasy feeling rests deep in her stomach, but nothing seems to be the cause. Cathlene returns to her room; after washing up, she wraps up under the blankets awaiting sleep.
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