The World Behind the Door by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online Page B

attention."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "What do you know about my nature?" he asked. "I've known you for less than half a week."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "All right," she said with a shrug. "I was wrong. You hate the limelight and wish only to be ignored."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Dali couldn't repress an amused laugh at that. "All right, young Jinx. I take it back. Of course you know my nature, and you are absolutely right. Now if you truly know how to turn me into the artist I long to be, I shall forsake Gala's face and put yours into every painting."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I'd rather you didn't," said Jinx.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Why?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Because not everyone longs to be the center of attention," she explained. "All I want is to be the best artist I can be. I don't care if I receive any acclaim or notoriety; I just want to know that I have made the most of my gifts, however modest they may be."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "That is a very unusual attitude," commented Dali, "and a very mature one. Most of the painters I know would much rather be famous than good."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I suspect that's true of writers and actors as well," said Jinx.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "The odd part is that the ones who are good are usually the ones who become famous," continued Dali. "An American president once said that you can fool some of the people some of time, and indeed you can—but eventually they realize that, as in Hans Christian Anderson's fable, the emperor has no clothes. That's why I will personally take care of the notoriety, but only to draw attention to my work—and if my art isn't exceptional, then as quickly as I make people seek it out they will lose interest and look elsewhere."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "May I see what you've done so far on the current one?" asked Jinx.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Dali shook his head. "Not until it's done."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "When will that be?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "There are two answers to that," he replied. "The first is: sometime tomorrow. The second is: never."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "They are both good answers."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Dali paused for a moment. "Are you getting tired?" he asked solicitously.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "A little," she replied. "What time is it?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  He looked at his watch. "Almost ten o'clock."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Already? How time flies!"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Dali shook his head. "Time doesn't fly. It lays there like a sodden beast."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I've never seen a sodden beast."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Then we're even," he replied. "I've never seen time fly. Shall we begin walking back to my place?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Yes, I think so," agreed Jinx.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "You have been asking me questions all week. Allow me to ask you one: why are you called Jinx?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Don't you like it?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "It's very distinctive," he answered. "I've never met anyone else called Jinx. But I have encountered the word many times, so my question really is: who did you jinx?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "My father," she said.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "He wanted a son?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "He wanted my mother. She died when I was born."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I can sympathize," said Dali. "We had some early tragedy in our family too."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I keep explaining that it wasn't my fault my mother died," she said. Suddenly a tear ran down her cheek. "But it probably was."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "You mustn't blame yourself," said Dali. He wanted to reach out, to put his arms around the young girl, to hold her close to him and comfort her—but some instinct prevented him from touching her. Maybe he was afraid he'd find out he didn't love Gala as much as he thought; he didn't know. He just knew that he shouldn't touch her. "I had an older brother who died just before I