The Tree At The Center Of The World

The Tree In The Woods That Didn't Belong

DUNEDIN, NEW ZEALAND. 3:45PM

Jeremy Davis peered closer at the painting on the wall. The International Lost Works Museum had opened last year, and he had been invited to view some art that had just come in the previous week.

The mauve rug beneath his feet was imprinted with large black lettering spelling out the museums initials. Pale teal marble walls lined the entire floor structure while overhanging linen and silk trim decorating the ceiling and the areas between the paintings and sculptures. Jeremy thought back to the blueprints he had seen for the hemisphere styled dome. The museum was designed like a labyrinthine maze, with interlocking walls at the centre. At the structural tour he had joked that a part of the building kind of looked like a tree. The architect had just smiled wanly and talked about something else.

The painting he was studying was titled "Birch Trees in The Silver Wood" by a late recluse named Mylo Dimitrov. The brief blurb under the painting on a gold plaque stated that it was the last work he had completed before his death in 1922. The brush strokes were thin, showing Dimitrov's favoured style of realism. Birch trees littered a little forest alcove as a middle ground between a backdrop of purpling evening sky, while a white sandy beach and calm blue ocean crawled lazily into the distance off to the left.

Jeremy looked back to the middle of the forest, where he'd been looking at before. Something about it seemed off; like something was missing, or added somehow. Stretching his right hand down into is blazer pocket, he picked out his hand lens, and pointed it at the paintings center.

'Birch trees, birch trees. Nothing out of the ordinary here.'  he thought, putting his feeling of unease at the back of his mind and chalking it down to his OCD acting up. Placing his lens back into his pocket, Jeremy slowed. He saw something, very well hidden.

In between two rather large Birch trees was a gap, a rather wide gap; a gap that under normal circumstances he would have and had indeed overlooked. The weird shape of the gap was what had been disturbing his mind and his eyes since he first saw this painting a few minutes ago.

The gap was shaped like an Oak tree.

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Jeremy half jogged back to the head office where he had seen the blueprints. That Oak tree shook him down beneath his usually bored exterior. He was sweating, a lot more than he thought he'd ever done in his entire life.

Beige carpets whizzed by his periphery, him barely noticing the other works all around him. He had, of course, memorized the map of the entire complex so he was having no trouble navigating the seemingly haphazardly placed walls. A statue of Hermes stood in the center of his path, flanked by three groups of tourists, art collectors and Renaissance addicts on all sides. Getting through that would be difficult.

He sidestepped a middle aged couple wearing matching mufflers, which in his opinion were ugly mufflers, and almost walked into a young lady who appeared to be headed to the main offices as well. He knew her, he realized as their shoulders bumped into each other. He'd worked on a team of Renata analysts of which she was part, and he'd collected her number, promising to keep in touch.

Which he did not.

Jules, or Julia. Not Juliet. Julian? He couldn't for the life of him remember her name. And now she was looking at him with that ' I know you from somewhere' face, halfway between a smile and a look of pure surprise.

"Well I never, would you look who it is? Jeremy Davis in the flesh! Award winning art critic and celebrated artist in his own right." She pivoted, looking him dead in the eyes. " What brings you to this..." She gestured randomly in  every direction,"...mehumdelehaha?"

Jeremy stared. Still trying to remember her name, her perfectly shaped feline eyes, her well kept hair and modest make up, her lips; a dark red with black on the upper lip, a false mole right underneath her lower lip, and her stunning 3 piece pantsuit, and he started to force a smile.

He hated how perfect she was.

He hated that he liked how perfect she was.

"Cat got your tongue, hombre?" She peered at him through slightly narrowed eyes. "Or let me guess, you've forgotten my name. Again."

As Jeremy stiffened, she smiled and pointed to the name tag hanging from a blue Velcro cord on her neck. 'Julienne Soren', it read, in fancy black lettering.

It also read 'CHIEF I.O, PAINTING DIVISION'. Which meant if he wanted to know anything about any painting inside the I.L.W.M, he'd have to ask her.

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Sitting in Juliennes office was like sitting in a cave with a Grizzly bear on antidepressants.

The air in the office was a few degrees colder than out in the hallways and gallerys around the museum. She had left several books open, varying on topics from art styles that had been lost to mythology and sculpture. There were stacks of paper everywhere, so well arranged that he was having vertigo from the neatness. He eagerly but subtly looked for something, anything to straighten or rearrange.

He didn't find anything.

The bear rug on the floor was (annoyingly) well swept and the entire room smelt like a Christian Dior perfume commercial. Jeremy tried not to think about the smell while he walked to a cushioned mahogany bench to sit. Or stand. Or, if possible, levitate. Because holy cow, she made him nervous.

Julienne herself was swirling a glass of 1935 Richólette red, while looking for a book that would have information on the Dimitrov painting. Her shirt was folded at the sleeves, and her jacket hung on the coat rack by the door.

Jeremy rolled a coin across his fingers, a nervous habit he picked up in the fifth grade. Somehow he always had a nickel on his person, so the habit stuck with him.

"Ah, here it is! The second edition 'Timeless' art encyclopedia, by Dennis Trimmer." Julianne looked up at him, a small smile on her face. " Is everything okay, Jeremy?".

Jeremy, zoned out, suddenly shook his head and looked at her, an air of something remotely resembling suspicion in his eyes. " Ah, yeah- yes, I'm -...I'm fine. Just a little... distracted."

Julianne brought the book over to the bench, and handed it over with her left hand. Still smiling her small, rather coy smile.

"If I can get you anything else...?", She mumbled, blushing a little. Something about the overly distracted look in his blue-grey eyes made her all tingly inside. She felt like a teenager with a crush. But no, no. She was controlled, she was calm...

"- Nd I was thinking maybe there's something going on here. I've seen this particular oak tree, right down to the branch alignment and leaf arrangement on accuracy in some other places." Jeremy said.

Julienne only caught half the sentence, but she somehow figured out what he was talking about.

A small smile, a charming twinkle of curious mischief. She got up and walked to the door. " Come on, then." She breathed. "Let's take this all the way to the top."