Bleeding Heart

Daphne took to drawing early on as a comfort and an escape. Her observations were keen and she drew everything; scenery, portraits, hand and foot studies, wildlife and fauna.

Her attentions grew increasingly towards portraiture and studies of the human body. When she was 16, her tutor suggested to Angela that she enroll her in life classes. Her mother didn’t like the idea of her daughter exposed to nudity in such proximity but her tutor assured her that the college level classes were conducted with professionalism and she would go along with her in the beginning. The tutor knew that she had talent and needed to see the body in the flesh to give it accurate representation.

Daphne didn’t like the idea of a baby sitter just to attend a college class. She soon convinced her tutor that she could behave in an adult manner and the tutor agreed to let her attend on her own after just three classes. But she had been sworn to secrecy and her mother mustn’t know.

She flourished in the class both as an artist and as a young woman. The first model in the class was a male model; 19, sandy blond hair, 6’2”, well-built and the object of every girl’s hormonal attentions in the class. Daphne didn’t seem to mind or notice that she was the youngest female in the class. She liked what she saw. Brad Wilson was a super fine specimen. She was still a virgin but knew in her mind that she was ready for Brad to release her from her chastity. She had read Jacqueline Susann and Erica Jong novels and figured she had a good grasp of the general concept.

Daphne followed him one morning after class and found that he took a lunch break between posing and his next class. Most of the time she wore jeans to class but on this day, she wore a short skirt. She found him eating a sandwich under a tree and made her way to her target. When he looked up and saw her, he shielded his eyes from the sun and could see up her dress. And he blushed.

“Hi Brad, enjoying the view?”

“What?!”

“I’m Daphne, from the life drawing class. It’s okay if you looked up my skirt. I’ve got panties on. Mind if I join you?”

Brad scooted himself to a more upright position and she sat next to him.

“I didn’t think you’d be this shy.”

“Well, I’m not… normally. I do pose naked so I can’t be too shy.”

“Yes, and you’re a terrific model. You should see my renderings of you. Our instructor says I can see inside you.”

“You’re certainly not shy, Daphne. How old are you?”

“I’m 16. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a kid.”

“Well, I’m 19. And I don’t date girls.”

“Really? So… you date guys?”

Brad could feel her piercing his very consciousness.

“Look, Daphne. You’re a nice, pretty girl and everything but I’m not the guy for you.”

“It’s okay if you date guys. I don’t want to date you. I’m more interested in the sex.”

He wanted to scold her but he just looked at her, agape.

“Brad, it’s like this. Not that I’ve seen many naked men but you are amazing. Everything about you triggers lust inside me. You’ve got all your clothes on and I am still vibrating. No strings Brad.”

He wanted to discourage her; she was a minor for one thing and he lusted after Dirk Benedict. But this girl had some sort of power. It’s like she was conducting his penis with her mind.

Brad missed his next class and she phoned her mom to tell her she was going to spend some time at the library. The library as it turned out, was his van. It became their love den. There were plenty of missed classes and trips to the library. Daphne was true to her word, no strings, just sex. She even indulged him on occasion by wearing a strap-on. By the end of the term, she had been satisfied and then thanked Brad for a mind-blowing education.

Brad went on a whirlwind man dating spree after they parted ways. The other girls gossiped about the two of them and said that she had turned him gay. She was much bemused by it all. Her artistic talents seemed to benefit from the experience. Her drawings of Brad made him out to be a hungry, sexual being. She dallied with a few women relationships, too. She liked the experience but decided she liked men better. It was in her best interest, she surmised, that she needed to experience sex with her own sex to become a complete being and a better artist. As was the case with both sexes, she had the sensation of ‘ingesting’ their souls, which she found to be all kinds of exciting. It was apparently not a mutual experience.

What was initially euphoric soon became a feeling of having lost part of oneself. And like a drug, the need to feel that euphoria again was never again satisfied. A few of her partners were devastated by the termination of the relationship. She thought there was no need for such drama; after all, she told them up front that this was just sex.

Her priority was still her education. She had enrolled in the Maine College of Art full time where she completed her MFA. That is where she met Leonard Cleese. He was a fellow art student, a bit on the nerdy side. His shyness appealed to her. But he surprised her in the bedroom. During foreplay, he was gentle and tender; during love making, he became lusty, almost savage. Sometimes Daphne would look at his face sweaty, distorted features and swear she could see another man. She liked this Jekyll and Hyde persona.

They married after a two-year courtship. They had a son, Stewart and a daughter, Laura. Stewart was on the shy side like his father, but Laura exhibited the same lust for life that her mother had.

She settled into her life of wife and mother and had all but abandoned her art. She supported Leonard’s career which had taken a turn to architecture. She still had the urge to create but pushed it aside. Until two months before Leonard became ill.

Daphne took to her paints and canvas and started to paint a faceless being in varying stages of decay with missing body parts. She painted picture after picture in shades of dark blues, greys and black. The more grotesque her paintings became; the more severe Leonard’s illness had become.

She used the attic as a studio. No one was allowed up there after she had begun to work. She worked feverishly. The kids were on their own with laundry and meals. Her kids were concerned not only for her neglecting them but moreover, forgetting about their dad.

Leonard had begun working from home because he was too weak to make it into his office. His office hours became shorter and shorter. He was weak and losing weight but did not complain. He did not disturb her while she worked. He did not complain about the lack of care or concern from his wife; he seemed oblivious to it. His kids rallied around him and did the best they could to care for him.

Daphne was obsessed with her painting in her dusky and grubby attic. She too was losing weight and smoking a lot pot. She was sustaining herself with quick meals of cereal, fruit, yogurt, sandwiches and booze. She was turning out a canvas a week and would send the kids to the art supply store with a list of supplies and cash or a blank check. They were instructed to do the grocery shopping as well and pick up anything else they needed; which transpired to a lot of pizzas, frozen meals, snacks and sodas. All the while, Leonard smiled. And deteriorated.

The state of the kids clothing did not go unnoticed by the neighbors. They did their best to get home quickly and vanish behind closed doors when they got home from school but the neighbor across the street, Mrs. MacTavish, took it upon herself to pay them a visit. She rang the bell and Laura answered the door.

“Is your mother or father at home?”

“Um, my dad isn’t feeling well, and my mother is working.”

“Well, I’d like speak with your mother, dear. You look a mess, child! What’s going on in this house?”

Stewart ran up the stairs to call to his mother. “Mom! Mrs. MacTavish is at the door and she wants to talk to you!”

Daphne had a fatty hanging off her lip and hollered back to Stewart, “Tell that bitch to leave us alone. If she doesn’t leave, tell her I’m calling the fuckin’ cops!”

Laura was doing her best to hold the door open at just a crack. She could hear what her mother had yelled to Stewart and so could Mrs. MacTavish.

“I have a mind to call the police myself! That’s no way to treat a concerned neighbor or talk to your children!”

“We’re fine, Mrs. MacTavish. No need to call the cops. Good-bye now!”

Laura had to shove the door closed because Mrs. MacTavish was trying to get a look inside. When was this craziness gonna end, she wondered?

When Leonard could no longer get out of bed, Daphne stopped painting. She stepped back and looked at her collection. They were raw with thick, fleshy paint. You could almost smell decaying meat. The figures were still faceless but on the last canvass, she painted the eyes. They were Leonard’s eyes and they were pleading.

Their finances were depleting, and she needed to get help for Leonard. She was slowly coming back into her world as a wife, mother and care taker for her husband. She had been stoned for so long it took her a while to realize how bad things had gotten in her own home.

She hadn’t done a show in years, but she knew she had enough material to show at a local gallery. The gallery was thrilled to have her work. The curator was taken aback by what he saw but took the paintings to set up an opening. The show opened as Artist Daphne Collinson: The Lost Souls Collection; she didn’t bother to correct it to her married name. She was more concerned with making some money on the paintings.

Her show was quite the affair. All the local society people of Bangor showed up. Daphne was a wreck. She kept making herself scarce to smoke a joint to calm her nerves. The asking price on her pieces were princely and the curator worried that they were too high. She watched the crowd nervously and chased the waiters for more champagne. The faces of the guests were either that of horror, disgust or a mixture of both. “Fuck them; what do they know about art anyway?” she remarked from behind a partition.

At the end of the evening, she expected the curator to tell her ‘I told you so’ about her prices but he looked quite pleased.

“Daphne, I don’t know how but all of your pieces were bought for above your asking price!”

“What? By whom? Those phonies acted like they were smelling shit!”

He cleared his throat, “By a single buyer. A tall, handsome, well-dressed man with an oddly pale complexion. He didn’t leave his name but he paid cash!” He produced a hefty bank role for Daphne’s viewing.

“I didn’t see anyone that looked like that.”

“Perhaps you were, er, taking a… smoke break?”

“Maybe.”

Daphne headed for home, ecstatic with her wad of cash, ready to give her family the good news. When she opened the door, Laura was waiting for her with what appeared to be a letter.

“Better read it, mom.”

She felt a tightening in her throat as she read silently. She had to call her sister.

“Daphne? Is that you?! Oh… my… god, I can’t believe you’re calling me! I’ve been thinking about you so much lately and I really need to talk to you about Cosimo!”

“Victoria, listen. I’ve been thinking a lot about you too and I really need to talk to you about Leonard but I’ve got something to tell you first. This is important and it’s not good.”

Victoria clutched her chest and felt her blood draining from her body. “What is it Daphne?”

“It’s mom. She’s dead.”

“What?! When did it happen? Was she ill? She never said anything! When did you hear?”

“No, Vic. Mom wasn’t ill, not physically, anyway. Laura handed me a telegram just now from the university where dad worked. She committed suicide.”

Daphne heard the phone drop. “Victoria? Are you there? Victoria?! Are you still there? Victoria?!”

Victoria picked the phone up, sobbing. “Yes… yes, I’m still here. How did it happen… I mean, how did she do it?”

“She drove her bug off Widows’ Hill. I thought maybe it was an accident but there were witnesses

. Oh god, Victoria, she just drove over the embankment and into the ocean.”

“I’ll come, Daphne; I’ll come right away. I… I think I’m going to puke.”