Stillness

“What happens when you get an itch?” the clerk asked.

It was everyone’s first question, and she’d tired of it. Irrelevant, unimportant, and silly. Yes, itches happened, and they mattered as much as asking an astronaut if the capsule was small. Yes, it’s small, but they were too busy flying to the moon to care.

“Just have to think of something else,” Cora said and forced a smile.

Turning before the mirror, the dress they’d given her flowed like the robes of a Greek Goddess. It left her shoulders bare with gathers around her bust and waist. The gathers turned into artful pleats that followed the curves of her body.

She watched herself as she posed. Lifting one hand to her lifted chin, her gaze moved on its own from her face down the length of her arm, over her bust, and along her torso where the pleats coalesced at her waist. From there, they traced along her thigh before falling away and revealing her skin beneath.

Adjusting, she lowered her chin and looked downward, her expression shy and innocent.

It reminded her of the myth of Persephone when Hades burst forth from the earth. Driving a chariot with four fierce black horses, he’d kidnapped her to the underworld, and after Persephone’s mother demanded Persephone’s return, Hades had relented but had offered a pomegranate. Persephone had refused all hospitality, but at the moment she was to leave, she ate one seed and sealed her fate. The single seed bound her to live as Hades’ consort for half of each year.

Cora glanced at her virginal pose and smiled. Persephone knew exactly what she was doing. She’d tempted Hades many times, pretending to reject his advances while walking alone and leaving herself vulnerable. Cora would have done the same thing and bathed in the adoration of the underworld’s ruler forever.

The clerk held out the elegant circlet of flowers, and Cora set it atop her head and looked into the mirror again. Perfect, and chasing that adoration, she felt that pang of sadness. People didn’t understand. It wasn’t vanity. She loved the beauty. It didn’t have to be hers. Seeing it in others or in art had the same effect. Whether she observed or was observed, she wanted to freeze those moments and never leave.

“Store’s opening in a few minutes,” the clerk said.

Cora nodded and checked her hair before turning away from the mirror. The clerk’s eyes made jealous inventory, then led Cora out and towards the front of the shop.

Heads turned among the staff. Cora smiled in response, but as they approached the front of the store, nerves tightened her chest. It was like being first in line for a roller coaster and worrying they might close the ride just before you got on.

They could still change their minds. The lights might not work. Any of a dozen things could ruin it.

The clerk unlocked the doorway, and Cora stepped up onto the platform. As she did, the bank of lights overhead came on, and she squinted. The clerk stepped in behind and adjusted the sign: Spring Collection 20% off.

“All set?” the clerk asked.

Cora nodded. On the sidewalk in front of the store, a few people paused, not understanding. She smiled and waved.

The clerk backed out and closed the door. The latch clicked. Cora was alone.

Cora let her smile melt away. One hand on a hip, the other hanging by her side, she stared past the people on the sidewalk and imagined she stared into eternity. She kept her expression neutral, just like a mannequin, and as she did, the stillness began.

Leaving her lips just parted, she drew in a breath gentle enough that she didn’t hear the inflow of air. As her chest began to rise, she paused and held it until the first sense of tension appeared. Then, a gentle, silent exhale. Her chest subsided over long seconds, then she paused and held herself still again until the first need to exhale began the cycle again.

The people who’d paused were first surprised, then fascinated as though they were watching a transformation. A woman became a statue before their eyes, and they waited for the trick or for her to bow or something to prove she was still alive.

And this was what Cora never could explain. In the stillness, she lived. She felt the weight of her shoulders, her arms, and the subtle tension on her neck. She felt the brush of air over her skin. She felt the slowing pulse of her heart, and as her trance deepened, she could feel the subtle throb of blood in her veins.

She lost track of time, only aware of movement on the sidewalk, frantic and chaotic compared to her stillness.

The foot traffic picked up. Most only glanced. A few paused to look at the dress and a few who glanced and did a double take. The model in the window was alive, not a mannequin.

Some turned it into a game like tourists who try to distract the red-coated guards in front of Buckingham Palace. Some tapped on the glass, some pulled funny faces, and Cora had been mooned more than a few times.

There were also the wolf whistles and compliments on her ‘nice tits’.

She’d broken a few times at first, but the longer she held herself still, the less any of it touched her. What she saw stopped being people on the sidewalks or the interior of a shopping mall. It became like energetic tendrils that reached out for her.

When someone reacted and felt the beauty she felt, admiration flowed, and despite her stillness, a part of her reached out and met it. And in the swirls of that energy, her body and mind vibrated. It became the only thing.

They saw her, and she felt their seeing, and the challenge became remaining still while the pleasure teased and touched the nerve endings which resonated with stimulation.

A torture she never wanted to end, she stared into space while silent breaths and her faint pulse continued. They watched and admired and drove her to near insanity.

She thought of Persephone, teasing a smitten Hades, wanting him to break, wanting him to give in, and take her.

Persephone had the earth beneath her feet to protect her. Cora had a pane of glass.

Far, far away, Cora heard her name.

“Cora.”

Right, her name was Cora, something she’d not thought about in an eternity.

“Cora, are you ok?”

Cora blinked, her pose faltering. She felt the clerk behind her.

“Lunch?”

They’d pester her if she didn’t take the lunch break. A little girl had watched the pose break, eyes wide. Cora waved and exited the display window.

“I could grab a sandwich from the deli if you’d like?” the clerk asked.

It was a downside. There wasn’t time to change, and walking the sidewalk dressed like a Greek goddess felt odd.

“I’d appreciate-“

“Excuse me.”

The man had a neat gray beard and wore a black suit and tie.

Cora took a half step back, and the clerk stepped between Cora and the man.

“May I help you?” the clerk asked.

He nodded to the clerk and looked at Cora. “Yes, I was wondering if I might take you to lunch.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the clerk said.

He looked past the clerk to Cora. She touched her throat. The way he looked at her. She felt the energy as though she were deep in the stillness of the window. Cora touched the clerk’s shoulder.

“It’ll be ok,” Cora said and looked at the man. “I’d like that.”

He held out an elbow. Cora slipped her hand into the crook.

“Cora, are you sure?” the clerk asked.

“Yes, everything will be fine,” Cora said.

He held the door, and she floated onto the street.

“I’ll be mindful of the time. I know you want to get back,” he offered.

“I do?”

“Is that wrong? You looked bothered when she pulled you out.”

Her clothes drew a number of glances. The man led her to the restaurant at the end of the block. The hostess furrowed her brow at Cora’s outfit before leading them to a table.

The man held Cora’s seat and settled her in before taking his seat opposite. The hostess handed them menus and departed.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t tell me your name?” Cora asked.

“Galen Vale.”

“And how did you know my name?”

“I asked the manager,” he said.

“And why ask me to lunch?”

His smile became unreadable. “Why did you say yes?”

She leaned back, aware of her bare shoulders and arms, along with the thin fabric of the dress, and how he’d looked at her and made her feel like he saw, really saw her. But, in the busy diner, saying that out loud felt silly.

“I’m not sure.”

“I asked you because you looked like you wanted to be in that window.”

“It pays well.”

“Would you do it for half the rate?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“How about for nothing?”

She looked away. “Yes.”

“That’s why I asked.”

He produced a business card and handed it across. “I have a private gallery, and I think you would be a great addition.”

“Private?”

“Yes, private.”

The waiter appeared, and they both ordered. Cora laid the card on the table.

“What kinds of shows do you have?”

He considered. “May I demonstrate?”

“I suppose.”

He retrieved a large golden coin from his jacket pocket. He showed her both sides. One appeared to be a modified Greek letter. The other resembled a Norse rune. Cora shrugged.

“Look closer,” Galen said.

She did, and as she leaned towards it, the Greek letter appeared to morph and shift like it had been drawn into a vortex. Cora blinked, and when her eyes opened, the coin had flipped to the rune. The individual slashes making up its shape shifted and slid over the top of each other as though they orbited a central point she couldn’t see.

Like the moment when she first went still in the display window, Cora felt her breathing slow, but unlike the window, she didn’t guide it. It slowed on its own, and a spreading stillness radiated from the center of her chest. She tried to move her arm. It did not respond.

The coin turned again. Greek letter swirling and falling into a central point. Her body had stilled, nerves along her skin sensitized as the voices in the diner retreated to a distant babble.

Coin turned. Rune. Orbit. Emptiness.

The quiet beckoned. She never wanted it to end. But, she hadn’t posed. She wanted to be beautiful first, wanted to feel people see it.

*snap*

Cora blinked. The coin was gone. The sandwich she’d ordered waited on the table.

Galen watched. “The worst thing is when you try to explain, and they don’t understand. When it happens enough, you stop trying and feel you’re alone.”

“What is your gallery for?”

He shook his head. “Check up on me. Be sure.”

His expression broke into a smile, and he began to eat.

“You have to get back in a few minutes,” he said.

Her mind swirling, she ate without tasting anything. Galen ate quickly and checked his watch. He signaled the waiter and paid the check while Cora tried to categorize what had just happened.

She managed about half the sandwich before saying she was ready, and he escorted her back to the shop, stopping before the entrance.

“You’re lovely, Cora. Thank you.”

The words sent a shiver up her spine, and as he pulled the door open, she wanted to forget the job and see his gallery. But she thanked him for lunch and stepped inside.

The clerk approached. “Everything go ok?”

Cora nodded.

The clerk led her to the window, and as Cora stepped up onto it, Galen watched.

She remembered the coin. Her mind softened and tried to blank. But, she dragged herself out and moved her body into a pose, head bowed and shy. Then, she remembered the coin, and as her body went still, the crowd on the street paused.

Amongst them, she felt Galen and her beauty being reflected. The ache started. She never wanted it to end.

He departed after an eternity, and it eased the tension that held her in place. It was a relief even as she missed the ache and the feeling of being witnessed.

The clerk popped open the display window door.

“All right, dear. We’re closing.”

When Cora blinked, her reflection blinked back at her. Outside, night had arrived, turning the window into a dark mirror with the people outside appearing as shadows. Shoulders relaxing, she flexed her hand and took deep breaths, enjoying the blood flowing back into muscles held still.

In her dressing room, she removed the gown and circlet and slipped on her jeans and t-shirt. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she sighed. Ordinary again.

The clerk gave her the envelope with the day’s check and promised they’d call again. Cora thanked her and stepped onto the street. She decided to walk for a dozen blocks to enjoy the sense of motion before she dipped down the stairs to the subway.

When she arrived home, the muffled sound of the television filtered through the door, and she rattled the key into the lock and pushed the door open.

“Home again,” she called out.

Jared glanced up from the couch. All the lights were out, and the television light caught his eyes.

“Good day?”

She raised her eyebrows and waved the envelope with the check.

“Good enough.”

She went to the refrigerator. A half-full container of leftover chicken salad waited under the blue-white lights inside. She pulled it out and grabbed a fork before returning to the couch.

Jared rubbed her shoulder as she sat. “Were they nice?”

She shrugged and took a bite. “Said they’d call.”

“What about the dress?”

“I was the goddess of spring,” she said between bites.

Jared thought. “Hera?”

Cora shook her head. “Persephone. Hera is Zeus’ wife.”

“Flower crown, the whole thing?”

“Mhmm.”

“I should have come by.”

She wanted to ask why he didn’t. She also didn’t want to fight.

They’d been together almost two years, and the moments where she felt Jared stop to just look at her were fewer and fewer. When they met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, he’d crossed the room and stood before her and kind of stammered for about a minute until she bailed him out and told him her name; it was the best pickup attempt she’d ever experienced.

The first time he’d kissed her, he’d grabbed both wrists and pinned them behind her back, holding them there with one hand. He’d smiled and said she wasn’t allowed to move. She froze while he laid dozens of kisses along the line of her jaw and down her neck. She’d orgasmed fully dressed.

After a couple more bites, she set the salad down, leaned against him, and took his hand, massaging it with both of hers.

“What’d you get up to today?”

“I was horrible. Touch football in the park this morning, and here the rest of the day.”

The park was two blocks from the store where she worked. She didn’t want to fight, and she let it go.

“A gallery owner came by at lunch. He said he might want to hire me for an event.”

“That’s terrific. You’re like those girls in the Greek myth. You know, the ones that sang.”

She smiled. “Sirens.”

“Right, Sirens. Luring men with their song.”

“Some men,” she whispered.

A moment passed.

“Some men?” he asked.

She smiled. “Yes. Some.”

“You lured the one that might turn into work today, right?”

She sighed. She wished she still lured him the same way.

“Yes.”

She lifted his arm, placed it around her shoulders, and lay against his chest. He petted her between sips of his drink.

She pretended to watch the movie, but the steady beat of his heart against her ear lulled her, and she fell asleep somewhere before the movie ended. She woke to Jared shaking her awake.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“About midnight. Let’s get you to bed.”

“No, stay and talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Don’t care. Just want to hear your voice.”

He laughed. “Ok, you’ve crossed over into loopy Cora.”

She half resisted as he untangled himself and pulled her up from the couch. She leaned against him on the few steps to the bedroom before he separated and went into the bathroom. She peeled off her clothes and slid a long shirt over her head before slipping under the covers.

Jared came out of the bathroom and lay beside her, pressing his back to hers.

The sunlight slipped between the curtains and found her eyes the next morning. She swatted at it several times before opening her eyes and being blinded. Clenching her eyes shut, she looked away.

Jared kissed her cheek.

She smiled and purred.

“Heading out,” he said.

She snapped her eyes open. “Why?”

“Because I have to make a living?”

She looked at the bedside clock. It was just after seven.

She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Stay with me. I’ll keep you as my boy toy who spends all day thinking of new ways to adore me.”

He laughed. “Still loopy Cora, I see.”

He kissed her again and wrestled himself free.

“See you tonight. I expect at least two compliments when you get home,” Cora said.

“Two?”

“Mhmm. I didn’t get any last night.”

“And what do I get?”

“I’ll lie at your feet, gazing up at you with submissive doe eyes.”

“Two compliments, huh?”

“Not much to ask for submissive doe eyes.”

She opened her eyes a crack. He was shaking his head.

“See you tonight.”

She dozed for another hour before showering and brushing her teeth. When she dressed, she rediscovered the business card Galen had given her.

She did a web search for his gallery. It was named the Fifth Season. It showed several of their prior shows. All focused on tableaus of mythological scenes. One showed Delilah with Sampson lying his head in her lap as she played with his hair. Another showed Morganna in flowing robes, a group of enraptured Grail knights kneeling before her.  A third was Scheherazade sitting on a cushion, with King Shahyar lying at her feet.

Cora called her agent.

“How’d it go yesterday?” he asked.

“They said they’d call when they needed me again.”

“Perfect. I have a runway thing in the works. Should hear in a day or so.”

“A guy named Galen Vale came by yesterday and gave me his card.”

“Galen Vale?”

“It’s what it says. Looked up his gallery. The Fifth Season?”

“Never heard of it.”

“He seemed nice.”

“Cora, they always seem nice.”

“All right. Could you check?”

“Yep. Call you about the runway thing.”

The call ended. She leaned back in her chair and began to turn the business card over. It reminded her of the coin, the swirling letter, the runes. She began to still and closed her eyes.

Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to look, she sat up and put on a coat before going to the street. She took the subway, and as she climbed back to street level, she crossed to the side of the street opposite the address.

She passed the number several times but didn’t see the gallery. There was a clothes shop next to a jeweler. The gallery should have been between.

Crossing the street, she traced along the address numbers. On her second attempt, she saw the shingle. It was a black sign with a golden leaf in relief on the metal. Beyond it, a staircase led  down and ended in a black door.

She went to the jeweler and asked about the gallery. They confirmed that she was in the right place, but they’d never met the owner. The clothes shop said the same, except they’d seen a man come in and out a few times. They’d never spoken with him.

Wanting to go and knock, she remained on the street, trapped between curiosity and wariness.  She wanted to ask about the coin and how he knew what the stillness meant, but most of all, she wanted to feel the quiet and the tension of his seeing her, along with the teasing that ached and that she never wanted to stop.

Too dangerous, she decided. Instead, she spent the afternoon working out, grocery shopping, and picking up dry cleaning. It was just after seven when Jared got home. He entered and began stripping off his tie, his expression taut.

“You ok?” Cora asked. He opened his mouth to speak and stopped.

“Nothing you did. Just give me a minute,” he said and strode into the bedroom. He returned a few minutes later in shorts and a t-shirt and forced a smile.

“How’d it go today?” Jared asked.

“No. How are you?” Cora asked.

He shook his head. “You first. I need to settle down.”

She shrugged. "Might have a runway job soon. They're checking on the gallery."

He kissed her cheek. “That’s great.”

She took his arm when he tried to step away. “How about my compliments?”

His eyes searched.

“Right. Can it be three tomorrow?”

“You’re running up a tab,” she smiled.

“I know.”

“It’s almost like you don’t want submissive doe eyes.”

“Oh, I do. Just-“ he shook his head and kissed her again.

She’d gotten dinner for them both, and they ate on the couch. Distracted, he tried to hide his irritation, smiling when she looked at him but regressing to tight irritation when she looked away.

They went to bed early. Jared had left for work when she woke. He left a note promising three compliments.

Her agent called and said that the runway job had come through. He made her write down the details. He’d also checked on Galen Vale.

“Nothing.”

“He has a website.”

“Yeah, I looked. Nice stuff, but no one knows him.”

“I went by.”

“Cora!”

“I didn’t go in. I just walked by. The neighbors don’t know him either.”

“Red flags everywhere. Let it go.”

“Ok. Anything else I need to know about the fashion show?”

“Be beautiful. But you do that in your sleep.”

“Right.”

She looked at the gallery’s website again, looking through the pictures. They showed the tableaus from all angles with several close-ups of the models. One showed an angle looking upward into Delilah’s eyes as she looked down on Sampson.

Imagining the vulnerable adoration so close with Sampson gazing up and willing to sacrifice everything sent a bolt of pleasure over her shoulders, which cascaded along her back. They would have sat that way for hours, frozen in the moment when Sampson had broken. All his cleverness and resistance gone, he had nothing but adoration, and if Cora had been Delilah, she would have held him on that cusp forever. She didn’t want to ruin him. She wanted the adoration that said he would let her.

She didn’t remember deciding and went back to the gallery entrance while the images of Delilah, Morganna, and Scheherazade played in her mind.

She stopped at the top of the stairs. The door was closed, and the warning from the clerk at the store, her agent, and common sense rolled through her mind.

Then, the door opened. Galen appeared. He remained on the other side of the threshold and stood aside, ready for her to enter.

She smiled and started down the stairway. She stopped halfway, feeling Galen’s gaze. Then, she stopped and turned away, climbing back up the stairs.

At the top, she looked over her shoulder and waited.

He put a hand on the door and waited. She didn’t move, eyes on his.

Swallowing, he stepped out, crossed the space, and climbed the stairs. She started to tremble.

He tugged her arm. She followed and looked over her shoulder. The staircase rose behind her as she descended. The walls closed in on both sides.

He led her through the door and closed it behind her.

“Let me show you what I had in mind,” Galen said.

He walked before her through a narrow hallway with black painted walls. It opened into a shadowed space with high ceilings. A pair of Grecian thrones waited with a pair of braziers burning on either side.

A table sat before the thrones. The sculpture of a pomegranate lay on top, stylized seeds spilling over the table.

“I often wondered what Persephone’s moment of decision would have been like, the moment when she decided to stay with Hades,” Galen said.

This wasn’t real, Cora told herself. She’d dreamed this. It wasn’t real.

Galen led her past the thrones to a dressing room. He remained outside.

“You can try the costume if you’d like,” Galen said.

It hung on a rack beside a tall mirror. Black as night and light as gossamer, her approach moved the air and disturbed the hem.

She held it up. The dressing room door closed. She hung the gown and began to undress.

Tailored to her body, she slipped it on. Leaving her arms bare, it had a high collar. A silver belt cinched it tight across her waist. A silver necklace fit close around her throat.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Cool, imperious, she could rule both the underworld and the god who lived in it. The grim deity would watch and never want to look away.

Stepping out to the set, Galen waited. His breath caught, and her body caught the gaze like a net. She clenched her jaw at the force of it.

He gestured to the throne. She strode towards it, back straight.  

She paused at the table with the pomegranate. She lifted one of the seeds and discovered it was not a sculpture. Wet and ripe, it left a red stain on her fingertips.

Galen watched, frozen in place as she held the seed before her mouth.

“I understand Hades a little better now,” Galen said.

She thought of Jared. Sweet, kind, ordinary. She hoped he would understand.

She slipped the seed into her mouth and swallowed before going to the throne.

He approached with a silver circlet in his hand.

She found the right pose, one arm on the chair, the other across her lap. Chin raised, she turned towards the other throne, imagining Hades looking back at her.

The silver was cool as it slid over her forehead, and when the onyx gem in the center touched her forehead, the world stopped.

Galen watched her with folded arms, a hand over his mouth.

She felt no breath, no heartbeat. Nothing disturbed the silence.

All that remained was stillness. Adoration flowed from Galen and was met by her gratitude. They mixed and curled around her, finding a resonance that would have made her tremble if she could move.

She wanted to gasp, cry out, anything to relieve the tension. But she was still, and she hoped it would never end.