The Painting

The Painting

Wesley had always liked art. When he was just five years old, his grandmother had taken him to a local art gallery to see the new Cubism section. While the pictures might have looked a bit odd to him, Wesley loved the colors. As he grew older, he started to appreciate art and fell in love with artists such as Picasso and Da Vinci, but his favorite artist was Albrecht Dürer. His sense of nature and the way he drew creatures fascinated him. Even though he wasn’t rich enough to own any originals, several prints adorned the walls of Wesley’s small apartment.

On a cold Wednesday, Wesley was out for a walk in Nuremberg, Germany. He was visiting there for his schooling and was falling more in love with the country by the week. He landed in January and had been there now for almost two months. One of the main reasons he chose Germany was because it was the birthplace of Dürer, and Wesley wanted to learn more about him in his home country. In between learning his backstory, Wesley would browse antique shops and thrift stores, fantasizing about finding a lost Dürer and finally having an original.

After strolling for a while, he entered a shop named Der Laden, hoping again to strike gold. He soon found the shopkeeper and asked if there were any paintings or drawings for sale. The shopkeeper led him over to a small display, but everything there was either too modern or didn’t match Dürer’s style. Not seeing anything promising, Wesley asked the shopkeeper if he had anything that might be from Dürer, even if it was just a copy. The shopkeeper suddenly grew very withdrawn and led Wesley into a back room. It was very dark and very cluttered. There was a certain mustiness in the air that made Wesley feel as if he was entering a tomb. The shopkeeper pulled a string and a single bulb started to flicker, revealing many objects scattered throughout the room, many covered with sheets and dust. The shopkeeper led Wesley over to a small nook where he gently revealed a small painting of a simple countryside and a couple walking hand in hand. Wesley started to speak but the shopkeeper shushed him, stating with a sharp certainty that the painting was by Dürer. Unnerved by the shopkeeper's sudden change in attitude, Wesley quickly bought the painting and left.

Back in his small room, Wesley hung the painting on the wall. Regardless of whether or not it was a Dürer, it was still a very pretty painting. After eating a light supper, Wesley turned in for the night. For the next few days, Wesley got caught up in coursework and forgot about the painting. It wasn’t until Wesley had a friend, Rachel, over for dinner that he remembered. While showing it to her, she said that she loved the way the artist had drawn the rabbit. Not remembering seeing a rabbit, Wesley studied the painting and saw that sure enough, there was a rabbit munching at some flowers in the bottom left corner of the painting.

After Rachel left, Wesley studied the painting to see if there was anything else he missed. Not seeing anything of particular interest, he left it and turned in for the night. The next morning, Wesley walked over to the painting and admired the way the artist had captured the couple embracing. Grabbing his bag, Wesley entered a bus and left for the day. On his way home, Wesley picked up a camera to take a picture of the painting so that he could show it to his art professor. Upon arriving at his small lodgings, Wesley went to take a picture when he noticed that in the tree there was a small bird nest. Wesley was sure that it wasn’t there the prior night. Taking the picture off the wall, he placed it on the table and took several pictures of it from different angles. After rehanging it, he studied it for several minutes, this time taking extreme care to absorb every detail of the painting. He didn’t notice anything else, no new animals or homes, so he took one last picture for himself before cleaning up and going to bed. The next morning, Wesley was very careful to check the painting for new objects, not really sure whether or not he expected them. Seeing nothing new, he grabbed the photos and headed for the college. At the college, The Academy for Fine Arts, he met up with his art professor and showed him the pictures. The professor agreed with Wesley, saying that they didn’t much resemble the works of Dürer, but he would look into it after class.

Upon arriving home, Wesley again stared at the painting. Still not seeing any changes, he went out for the rest of the day to try to drive the painting from his mind. The next morning, he deliberately didn’t look at the painting, telling himself that it wasn’t possible for a painting to change after it was finished. Presuming himself to be going crazy, he left again for the college to see if his professor had any answers. Upon arriving at the classroom, Wesley found the door locked, which was odd because the professor usually showed up early to prepare for the lecture. After waiting outside the class for over thirty minutes, he went to the front desk to enquire about the whereabouts of his professor. The receptionist told Wesley that she hadn’t seen the professor all day and that he hadn’t called in sick. After waiting a bit longer, Wesley went back to the apartment feeling slightly perturbed.

Upon arrival, Wesley immediately went over to the painting almost as a habit. Upon seeing it, he uttered a small gasp. The rabbit had vanished, in its place a fox disappearing into the tall grass. Grabbing the photo of the painting off of the table, he compared the two. In the photo, there was a very plain image of a rabbit in the corner and nothing at all to suggest a fox. Snatching the painting off of the wall, Wesley ran out of his house to try to find the place that had sold him the painting.

After dashing through the streets of Nuremberg, Wesley eventually came upon Der Laden once again. Bursting through the front door, Wesley ran up to the counter where the shopkeeper was standing and demanded to know what kind of painting he’d sold him. With a forlorn look on his face, the shopkeeper told him the painting's story.

Many centuries ago, in the year 1526, Albrecht Dürer and his wife, despaired due to the fact that they had no children. Despite trying for years, there was no result. Dürer began to grow more and more reserved in the following months, desperate for a son to continue his line. While out one day for a walk, he came upon a beggar leaning against an black alder. As he passed, the beggar called out to Dürer, asking him for money. Turning towards the beggar, Dürer told him he had no money to give. The beggar then asked if there was a service he could do to earn a few coins. In his desperation, Dürer cried out, “If you will but give me a child, I will give you a thousand florins!”

Rising from his spot, the beggar hobbled over to Dürer. Dürer noticed that the man had a clubfoot that he dragged with him. As he grew closer, Dürer grew more uncomfortable, but his curiosity rooted him to the spot. Now next to Dürer, the beggar told him that all he needed to do was paint a picture of the surrounding country, and his wife would conceive. Feeling somewhat foolish, Dürer turned away and started walking back to his house. Feeling bad for the obviously deranged beggar, Dürer turned back to give the man a coin, but he’d disappeared. With a feeling of dread in his chest, he returned home to his wife.

He didn’t tell his wife of his encounter with the beggar for fear that she would consider less of him. For the next week, he still couldn’t manage to forget the meeting. As the days went on, he felt more and more inclined to paint the picture, until finally, he could stand it no longer. Gathering his supplies, Dürer went back to the black alder tree and sat against it as the beggar did. As he painted, he lost all meaning of time. He stayed at the spot for two days without leaving for food or water, yet he still couldn’t make a satisfying painting. Depressed, he returned home to his wife to finally tell her what he saw. After another two years of trying to have children, he went back to spot to see if he could finally create a satisfying painting. As approached the area, he again came upon the beggar. Rushing up to him, he begged him for help, anything he could do to help Dürer paint the portrait.

After Dürer finished speaking, the beggar rose to his feet. Reaching into his doublet, he pulled a brush out of a hidden pocket. He handed it to Dürer and told him that the brush was imbued with a sacred magic that would allow the painter to paint a perfect replica of whatever was in front of him. Accepting the brush, Dürer bowed to the beggar, but when he looked up, the beggar had again disappeared.

Immediately, Dürer began to paint. To his horror, the brush did not seem to improve the painting. Thinking he must be doing something wrong, Dürer vowed to stay at the tree until the painting was correct. He stayed at the spot for three days, painting and painting, until eventually he died from lack of water.

After a week without seeing him, Dürer’s wife, Agnes, went out to find him. Upon arriving at the tree, she wept uncontrollably to see her husband die in such a way. As she laid upon him mourning, the beggar walked up beside. He offered consolation and said that if she needed help moving the body, he could help. Together, they moved the corpse to his bed, placing the painting on top. After laying it to rest, the beggar told Agnes that he’d walked past Dürer earlier in the week. He seemed to be in a frantic state, not even acknowledging the beggar as he called out to him. The beggar said he didn’t know what Dürer was doing, or he would have tried to help in some way.

Agnes snatched up the painting and tried to tear it in half, but being so frail from her misery, she was unable to damage it. The beggar gently took it from her and placed it on the table, bending down to comfort her. After a moment in his embrace, Agnes began to feel better. Rising up to wipe the tears from her eyes, she went to thank the beggar for his help. Startled, Agnes couldn’t see the beggar anywhere. Rushing to the door, she threw it open and looked up and down the road for him. Not seeing him, she thought him to be a benevolent spirit, helping her through this trial. Upon reentering the house, she became overwhelmed at disgust towards her husband, not being able to stand his selfish actions. After the funeral, she withdrew to her house, selling all the paintings and drawings that Dürer had done, trying to eradicate his presence from her house. Eventually, her despair overwhelmed her and she too passed away. After her passing, the beggar entered their lives one last time, this time to take the painting that took Dürer’s life and caused such pain in Agnes’. Eventually, a wandering merchant bought the painting from the beggar, who kept it, passing it down for generations until it eventually went to the shopkeeper.

No matter matter how hard Wesley pressed, the shopkeeper would neither tell Wesley how he knew this story or how to fix the painting. He wouldn’t accept the painting back, no matter what Wesley did. Eventually, Wesley left the painting on the counter and rushed out, headed back for his apartment. Upon his arrival, he felt relieved to finally be rid of the cursed painting. As he opened the door, he almost fainted from fear. The painting was again hung on the wall. In the place of the fox tail was the rabbit’s carcass, and the woman was now all alone in the painting. Taking up the painting, Wesley cracked it over his knee, trying to destroy the possessed object. He only succeeded in breaking the frame, and try as he might, he couldn’t tear the paper. Falling back against the wall, he passed out.

Wesley awoke to an incessant banging on his door. Not quite remembering the last few hours, he stumbled to the door, only to find his art professor outside. He burst into Wesley’s apartment in a frantic state. It took him a minute to finally calm down enough to tell Wesley what he found. He told him that the painting he’d shown him was actually a little known lost art of Dürer’s that could sell for almost nine hundred thousand euros. Not quite sure what to say, Wesley thanked the professor and showed him to the door, not registering the professor’s complaints.

After the professor had gone, Wesley picked up the painting off the floor, the frame reduced to splinters. Again, the scene had changed. Now, the woman was gone, leaving only the bones of the rabbit and the decaying remains of the nest. The whole countryside seemed affected, as if the whole valley were dying. Sitting heavily into his dining chair, he set the painting on the table, resolved to watch it until it changed again.

Six days later, the door to Wesley’s apartment opened. An old man dressed in rags hobbled in, and walked over to Wesley’s body, sitting in the chair. His dead, sunken eyes staring down at the painting, his shriveled skin leaving his eyelids open. The old man grabbed the painting and hobbled out of the apartment, taking care to close the door behind him.

The End