Page 91 of The Artist
“Oh, right. Ehm…” Belle shifted her balance and looked away.
“Let me guess; we got the polished version, didn’t we?” Freya touched Belle’s elbow. “Don’t worry. You can tell us everything. We’re friends.”
“All right. I’m not sure how many homeless people we have, but they’re removed every time we have a summit here in Old Europe. The government wants our country to look its best. That’s why they arranged for a massive community event to clean our streets and plant flowers before each summit we’ve hosted. On the news the anchors would encourage all citizens to dress their finest and smile at you outsiders to leave you with a good impression.”
“It’s all bloody staged!” Aubri shook her head and exchanged a glance with me. “Can you believe that shit?”
“But what happens to the homeless? Where are they taken?” Freya wanted to know.
“There’s a shelter down at the utility level. It’s next to the sewer station so the smell is awful, but it’s warm and dry. In the summer months the homeless don’t want to sleep down there so they spread out in parks and streets.”
“You said everyone starts at level one when you begin to work, so what level are you on now?” Aubri asked Belle.
“Level four. I’ve worked for six years. When I reach level five, I can apply for a home one level up.” Belle pointed upward. “But there’s such a lack of housing that it can take years for anything to be available.” Opening the door to her house, she called out a greeting in French. I assumed it was to give her roommate a heads up before we all walked in. Despite the warning, we still walked in on her roommate in the living room half naked with a man scrambling to get up from the floor and pulling a blanket from the sofa to hide his private parts. The two people had messy hair and stared at us like we were aliens.
“Lucy…” That was all I understood from the gabble of French words that came out of Belle.
Belle’s roommate disappeared up a steep staircase with her lover behind her.
“Sorry about that.” Belle bit her lower lip. “We have a rule of no lovers in the living room, but she must have thought I wasn’t coming home anytime soon.”
The place was tiny compared to what we were used to back home and I didn’t see a kitchen.
“Our houses are small but well designed.” Belle began explaining how everything doubled as something else. “This couch holds storage space and as you can see, the staircase can be moved to offer extra seating in the kitchen.
“What kitchen?” I asked and gaped as Belle rearranged what had looked like a living room space with an entertainment center. It was like a magic trick the way she pulled, turned, and pushed furniture around until there was a small but functional kitchen.
“Our architects are skilled at making every bit of space count. By the way, this is the light channel that Victor was talking about.” Belle pointed to a round window in her ceiling. “Mirrors help the sun’s reflection reach us all the way down here on the third level, but it’s not the same as being above the ground.”
I rubbed her back and the others gave her a sympathetic smile, but Belle wasn’t looking for our pity, and swung her arm.
“And behind that door by the entrance is my bedroom. Feel free to take a look.”
She hadn’t exaggerated when she claimed that my bathroom was bigger than her bedroom. It held a single bed, a nightstand, and a closet for her clothes.
“It’s cute,” Freya said with a smile. “I love the picture. Did you paint that?”
Above Belle’s bed hung a large painting of mountains, trees, and a gorgeous waterfall.
“Looks like the Northlands,” Indiana remarked.
“It is. I was inspired after my last visit.” Belle threw the pad she always carried onto her bed and went to pick up a wristband from a drawer in her closet. “Let me see if I can reach Banni.”
It was cramped with all of us in Belle’s bedroom, so the others followed her out. Looking down at the pad on her bed, I saw a drawing so beautiful that I picked the pad up and whistled.
“Wow.” It was the cabin from Alaska with the snow, trees, and lake out front. Swiping, I saw another drawing of the snowball fight with the kids from the experimental school.
Fascination and curiosity made me scroll through her drawings. I loved every one of her sharp observations from this summit. Curious, I searched for older drawings and found that scrolling through them gave me insight into her life. Babies that were crying, smiling, or sleeping. Friends who were laughing, eating, and sunbathing. A few self-portraits that didn’t do her beauty justice. I realized that while some people had diaries, Belle had dated sketches going back ten years. I found the ones from the first summit that we held in the Northlands back in 2456 when she had been fourteen. Mostly it was sketches of trees, flowers, dogs, and birds. As I scrolled on, drawings of people appeared. There was one of Freya whispering with Khan in the garden like they were plotting something ingenious. Another drawing showed Aubri sparring with me in a fight ring. Then there was one of me sitting in the grass bare-chested followed by yet another drawing of me competing in arm wrestling with Thor. My pulse spiked from counting – of the nineteen sketches Belle had made during her first summit in the Northlands, six had me in them. Jumping through each year’s summits, I saw the same pattern. Each year there were more drawings of me than any of the others. From last year’s summit here in Old Europe, I was in eight out of her fourteen sketches.
“Are you coming?”
I looked up to see Indiana in the doorway.
“We’re waiting for you outside.” His gaze fell to the pad in my hands. “What are you doing?”
Looking out the window, I saw Freya, Aubri, and Belle talking. “She has a ton of drawings of me.”
“Huh?” He walked closer and snatched the pad from me. “She’s good.”
