MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 21 (Patreon)

I had never thought of that. I had thought I had nothing to fear in this meeting and now I was scared to death. My hairsnakes were getting angry. Whatever Mom and Daddy were paying this guy, it wasn’t enough.

Lionel sat down as the room erupted in a cacophony of everyone speaking at once. The mayor eventually reestablished order and immediately threw the ball into the judge’s lap.

“Mr. Barber brings up an important legal point that is further complicated by the fact that Miss Harrison is not a medical practitioner. Since I was going to sign this court order, it behooves me to ask you, young lady, are you willing to use your trick in the manner presented by Doctors Lewis and Adelaide for the experimental treatment of Miss O’Malley’s stage four lymphoma?”

I looked at Mr. Barber and he nodded.

“No,” I said. Before everyone started speaking at once again. I held my palm out to keep them quiet. “There is another choice. In some ways, it is more burdensome for me. In other ways, it is not. The suspended animation state that is at the heart of this discussion does not have to be permanent. As long as I have access to the statue, I can renew the effect of my trick prolonging the duration. A friend of mine spent eleven days as a statue at the beginning of the summer. I only had to be present to maintain her suspended animation three times in that eleven day span. Ultimately, I believe Miss O’Malley would prefer to spend her time as a statue in her own gallery than locked away in the Spiral Clinic under the fiction that she is undergoing a medical treatment.

“My only regret is that I didn’t offer this solution to her before things reached the point of involving of all of you. But I’m glad to know where I stand in terms of the law.”

“I accept,” Gillian said.

“We’ll talk later.”

I stopped paying attention at that point. Mom took my hand and held it. Eventually we were standing in the hallway outside of the meeting room.

Gillian approached me. “I’m going to make a few changes to the trust. Nothing will change for you. It will just become a living trust instead of an estate trust. I’d also like to speak to you and your parents and our attorney’s about forming a legal partnership in order to make you co-owner of the gallery for the time when I’m... indisposed.”

“I suppose that’s a good idea,” I told her. “I have good news. I have a dozen pieces ready for you to put on sale.”

“That’s wonderful. Bring them by tomorrow and we’ll get that started as well. Though, you may end up selling them yourself.”

* * *

Fallout from the big meeting was limited. Somehow both sides of the euthanasia issue had reason to like or dislike me. Thankfully, it wasn’t a topic embraced by many high school students.

My senior year of high school was set to start a few weeks after the meeting. A week before that, I met with Gillian and our lawyers at the gallery. Mom and Daddy were there. The paperwork was completed and the limited liability corporation we were the officers of now owned the gallery. Gillian’s role in the company was as a silent partner.

Her time was nearly up. She threw a going away party at the gallery that evening. A few of her friends arrived and she said goodbye to them all privately and individually. When she was ready, the two of us slipped away from the party to go into a back room. She said to me, “Thank you for this.”

“No need to thank me. You’ve done so much more for me.”

“The fact that I will know what you do with my gifts to you is a far greater gift that give to me. Even if I’m just a block of stone, as long as you live, I will go on. It is more than I could ever ask for. Let’s do this before I cry.”

“Okay.”

She disrobed and stood on the plinth she originally commissioned to be her final resting place. Now, it was going to be the display stand from which she will watch the world go by. Standing in a classic Roman statue pose, she recited her final words. The same words were already carved into the plinth: “May Euryale keep me from Hades’ grasp.”

I was glad she had chosen Euryale over Medusa for the not-an-epitaph. I flashed her to stone. The swirls in her body were awful. I took several sips. Even close to death it was still ambrosia. I pulled a sheet over her and called Arturo in to use the hand truck to move her back into the main room of the gallery.

The room was packed. The number of people had tripled or more in the time since I had left the room to turned her into a statue. I found out later Arturo had been keeping the pre-reveal party private. Once she and I had left, he had allowed others to enter the gallery. The guests fell silent as the covered statue was moved into place. Arturo picked up the edge of the sheet and announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Gillian O’Malley’s final commissioned work of art.” He flipped the sheet off the statue.

The room remained silent for a few heartbeats until someone shouted, “Long live our art maven, Gillian O’Malley.” Applause broke out along with other shouts of long life. Several people turned to me to compliment me on how regal she looked. I just smiled and nodded at whatever anyone said.

* * *

“My girlfriend is a real work of art.”

“Elliot, that’s the third time you’ve said that,” I said.

The gallery had closed for a few weeks after Gillian’s statue reveal party. We rebranded it as The Gillian O’Malley Gallery. We were having a small opening party on the eve of reopening the next day.

“Sixth or seventh time. You missed at least half the times I said it,” he said. “In all our testing, I rarely had the chance to really look at the statue of Marie.”

“She is very beautiful. And she looks great standing next to Gillian. It’s too bad she wants to spend time with you on weekends.”

“Not so loud. It’s bad enough she spends every weekday here while we’re in school. I only get to talk to her on weekends.”

“You could talk to her right now.”

“Ha ha.”

Ross tapped me on the shoulder and when I turned around he kissed me. One of my snakes left its eyes open and watched Elliot trying to figure out how to occupy himself as he waited for the kiss to end. When it did, Ross said, “Elliot, your girlfriend is a real work of art.”

“Not you, too,” I said with a pout.

They high fived.

“I still can’t get over the idea that this is your art gallery,” Ross said.

“I barely believe it myself,” I said. “And look at the room I have for more statues.”

“More statues?”

“I’d be a lousy gorgon if I didn’t collect statues. It’s supposed to be a garden in a remote mountain location, isn’t it? I have time. I can work my way up to that.”

At that moment Dr. Parker from the Clinic approached the three of us. “It’s good that you can joke about that.” Dr. Adelaide was with him.

“I think I finally like who I am.”

“Is that a new feeling?”

“Aren’t you off the clock?”

“I can practice psychiatry in my spare time.”

I giggled. “Yes, it’s a new feeling. As Gordon, I was the ugly misfit.”

“You weren’t ugly,” Elliot said.

“Say that as much as you like. My face was ugly and I felt ugly inside no matter how many people told me not to.”

“You aren’t a misfit now?” Ross said.

“Will you be disappointed if I am or if I’m not?”

“Figure it out.”

“I’m still a misfit. But I’m a misfit who owns an art gallery. I’m a thriving member of society. I make art. I’m not just a pretty face. It took a while to get comfortable in this skin. But now that I am, I like who I am.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Dr. Parker said. “I was going to suggest at our next session that it be our last. But, you can cancel that session if you like.”

“I’ll miss our talks.”

“No, you won’t. I use to visit Gillian’s gallery a least twice a month. Now, it’s your gallery I’ll visit.”

“And how are you?” I asked Dr. Adelaide.

“I’m, like, just here with Francis.”

“Francis?”

“Like, duh, Francis Parker. My husband.” She kissed Francis and he kissed her back. For some reason I thought he’d be against public displays of affection.

“I had no idea.”

“Get a room,” a voice said. Tara Parker joined us. “I thought you said you’d just be a minute.”

“You know my daughter, Tara.”

“I never noticed you had the same last name.”

“It’s not like any of us were friends with Tara,” Elliot said.

“Is there something I don’t know?” Francis said.

“I believe Tara was, like, dating the young man who, like, assaulted Gordon and Medusa multiple times.”

“I dumped him before she twisted.”

“You dumped him the day I twisted,” I said. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“Thank her?” Ross said.

“If I hadn’t had such a radical twist, or worse, if I had become Gordon 2.0, I wouldn’t have all of this today, I wouldn’t have Ross, and Ryan would probably still be picking on me.”

Ross put his arm around my waist and held me.

“I still don’t know if I want to be thanked for all the other stuff Ryan probably did to you because I dumped him,” Tara said.

“No worries. You’re always welcome here.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate that,” she said to me before turning to look at her father. “Are we ready to go?” She looked at her mother and added, “Oh, I suppose not.”

“You did interrupt prematurely.”

“Talk like a normal person.”

“What did she interrupt?”

“I was, like, hoping you might, like, squeeze me in here between your two statues. I’m hoping a few days, like, as a block of stone will, like, help me figure out the morphic transformation so I can, like, do it to myself properly.”

“Is that really the reason?” Elliot asked. “Or do you just want to be a statue? It’s not as rare a desire as you might think.”

“There’s some literature on the subject I could send you links to,” Francis said.

“No, thanks, Dear,” she said. “So? Can I?”

“Sure. I was just talking about gathering a statue garden when you arrived.”