Page 96 of The Edge of Always

Chapter Twenty-Two

NOW

The Juxtaposition of Life and Death: Oil on canvas. Spencer’s use of colour in this piece is extraordinary. The interplay of light makes the scene almost pulse and shimmer, adding a breathing quality to the composition. The brushwork of the tree cascades across the canvas, as if it is alive and in flux. c.2007.

I settle onto the bed in Emmett’s room, the aromatherapy oils making me almost light-headed.

I’m flicking mindlessly through the comments on my blog, just like I’d do at home when I want to escape my own thoughts. I click on my profile and see that my followers are still going up.

I’m never going to be a social media guru, I’m not even close to being in influencer, and I wouldn’t want to be. I wasn’t lying to Emmett when I said that initially I just wanted a place to vent, and talk about the art that interested me, after my diagnosis. I guess that deep down, I’m hoping that I’ll find an artist who’s solved it. Death – what happens after.

I read once that humans have evolved to live with death because we simply refuse to believe that one day it’ll happen to us. It’s one of the reasons why living with a life-limiting condition is so tricky. We don’t like to be confronted with our own mortality.

I’m bone tired, weirdly horny, and also now depressed. Which is a heady mixture.

I have several Instagram messages. One from Darth saying that he can’t find the blue door. I’m disappointed, since Darth seems intelligent. If anyone had found it, I’d have expected it to be him.

I scroll and reply to some more when a message from Vincent, one of my earliest followers, comes through. I jolt upright.

VincentVanGetOutOfHere: I think I found the building!

I reply right away.

TheArtofDying: What where? How did you find it?

VincentVanGetOutOfHere: AI. It only took all night and day.

Vincent has Parkinson’s disease. His muscle spasms make it difficult to sleep.

TheArtofDying: I could kiss you! Great work.

VincentVanGetOutOfHere: There’s more.

TheArtofDying: Do tell.

VincentVanGetOutOfHere: It’s an art studio. They have a class on tomorrow night, life drawing. It could be that Spencer actually went there to paint.

TheArtofDying: Wow, imagine that.

Even as I type it, I’m thinking that I could go there. I could draw in a place where Earl likely was. If drawing was a thing that I did anymore.

Vincent has sent a link! It’s to the art studio and I can see it then, the same bright blue façade of Earl’s painting.

TheArtofDying: Brilliant work!

VincentVanGetOutOfHere: I live to serve our leader.

‘Guess what!’ I tell Emmett the second he walks through the door, tiredness and unwelcome horniness gone. ‘A follower found the door in The Rubicon. It’s an art studio, and they have a class tomorrow night.’

‘What, no way?’ Emmett looks like a man who has endured several cold plunges. His hair is flatter than normal, sticking to his head. In my excitement at Vincent’s discovery, I’d forgotten that Emmett and I are staying in this hotel room tonight. Together. In separate beds, but together still. ‘Are you going to go?’

‘I don’t know. They have a life-drawing class on tomorrow night, but it’s been so long since I drew anything, I’d be all crappy.’ This, I think, is as good an excuse as any.

Emmett walks over and sits next to me on the edge of the bed.

‘You don’t have to go. Not if you don’t want to.’

Emmett has asked several times why I don’t draw anymore, so it’s unexpected, the ease with which he gives me an out. I think about how it would be to not go. To just let this opportunity pass me by, float away into the distance never to be seen again. It would be easier to return to neutrality, without living through this experience, I’m sure of it.