Chapter 14. Polichinelle's Secrets.

March 14, 1964

Thirty-year-old artist Horace Dorsy, driving a white BMW 507 with his beloved Alexandra Stevens toward his very exquisite home, at the moments described, was not thinking at all about the gray-faced road continuously flowing before his eyes, like the current of a stream—at this hour, being in the company of the unusually lovely Alexandra Stevens, as paradoxical as it may sound, he felt a special happiness not because he was now located near her and she was near him, but because he was very naturally reproducing in his mind the moments of half an hour ago—those very scenes when they were indulging in exceptional tenderness in the quiet embrace of the blue-eyed ocean. These minutes were among the most vivid and eventful moments of his life, and therefore he frantically wanted to reproduce them again and again in his mind in order to forever capture them on this unique canvas—this was necessary so that at any other subsequent moment of his own life he could, without the slightest effort and without the slightest difficulty, indulge in an extremely sweet contemplation and tasting of the feelings once experienced by his heart in the smallest details and subtleties. Not at all wanting to pay attention to the present beauty of Alexandra Stevens, he mercilessly tormented his mind with still fresh memories of the past—he tested his soul with the still warm aftertaste of truly happy emotions and states.

Again and again, he reproduced everything that happened in his mind in the smallest details—here they playfully enter the endless azure of the capricious ocean: the cold water slightly burns their bodies, but they very quickly get used to its state—they are constantly warmed by extremely ardent feelings. Another moment, and Alexandra Stevens is already in his arms, after which Horace Dorsy swiftly lowers her gentle young body into the cold water—a cute dissatisfaction appears on Alexandra Stevens' salmon-colored lips, and he, smiling sincerely, with sincere passion, gives her countless kisses, while faintly, for everyone except the lover, confessing to her in the purest and most virtuous love. Alexandra Stevens feels his love—she feels it even when he does not perform a single action or a single word: his love is expressed in his gaze—he is the personification of this greatest feeling! In these minutes, he wanted nothing more than to make her the happiest person on earth, and accordingly to make himself the happiest person on earth—wasn't his soul noble and his intentions pure? Looking into her eyes and seeing there the history of everything that has existed since the very first day of the birth of this world, he remembered the feelings he felt in the first days of acquaintance with her—Horace Dorsy was cold-blooded in communicating with her, but after this communication, being alone within the limits of his home, he experienced the greatest torment, for he was burning alive: he realized that if he was easily accessible to her, if he was what he was, then she would think that he was like everyone else—he, on the other hand, realizing her strength, did not want to lose her at all. She was tormented by no less torment in those minutes. Falling asleep, each of them dreamed of waking up as soon as possible in order to taste the beauty of the very day when they would be next to each other—every minute before going to bed seemed unbearably long to them, and therefore it burned extremely painfully and bitterly: every minute spent by each of them in the company of each other died protractedly and sweetly—no, it did not die, it was resurrected, for the two minutes they spent on each other revived in their hearts whole years, years of life without each other! They would have exchanged two minutes in each other's arms without the slightest doubt for many years when they were not yet acquainted. Horace Dorsy continued to enjoy these memories. A good beloved is nothing more than the highest reward of the Universe for your labors and achievements in its endeavors: if you properly fulfill your own destiny, realize yourself, embody your givenness, and accordingly achieve certain results that are significant for the Universe, it will undoubtedly and unconditionally thank you! If you go against its will, tasks, and processes, you will always get a refusal—you can understand this or not understand it, accept it or not accept it, but this is how it is. In this world, everything happens as it should be and in no other way. If Horace Dorsy had met Alexandra Stevens—and would he have met her at all in that case?!—in the process of his own becoming and realization of his givenness, would he have had the motivation to create then? Being lonely, rejected, and persecuted, he created a series of unique paintings of genius, which subsequently attracted Alexandra's attention to Horace's nature and person: if he had met her in the first stages of his formation, would he have had the desire to create something great and truly talented? Bathing in bliss, he would not have hardened his talent, his soul, and his mind—having performed a decimation on his nature, he found true freedom, and accordingly, as one of the results of the first, his true love. With each refusal of one or another to some extent lovely girl, Horace Dorsy comprehended life more and more—he soon began to accept them with indescribable joy, for he perfectly realized that if he received a refusal, it means that the best awaits him ahead.

But how exceptional in her beauty was this little woman with the name of the greatest conqueror! Horace Dorsy admired her in his mind, he sang her praises there, although at this hour she was next to him in the passenger seat of their white car. A few moments later, he thought that it would be good to draw, to depict her on his next canvas from memory, from the depths and abysses of his own memories—the way she was in his mind: at this hour, being next to him, she was smiling sweetly. Such was Horace Dorsy. Strange to some, insane to some, and a genius to some. It is also necessary to mention that in his heroes, images, and together with them, he lived truly millions of lives: he grew old and grew young, together with them he became kind and evil, poor and rich, sick and healthy—there he was both a woman and a man, Adam and Eve. Horace Dorsy was happy—happy because he познал his own destiny, and also met the one who was the crown of his life: the one who herself was striving for him! She was striving for him when he had established himself as a person, but did not yet have colossal wealth—at this moment he was himself, a great artist, but, even if temporarily, still, without significant material benefits: with his success, she also gained her own success—with his happiness, she also gained her own happiness. Alexandra Stevens was able to see the most important wealth of her whole life in the nature of Horace Dorsy, and he, in turn, was happy because he was finally able to find truly human feelings in this world: she sincerely loved him, and therefore he wanted nothing more than to elevate her to the top of the universe in his own happiness. Horace Dorsy everywhere, in everything, and always looked for what was truly human, and accordingly everywhere, in everything, and always despised ephemeral success, fame, wealth, and emotions—wanting to look for what was human in everything, he was able to find it only because he himself had it at the appropriate time: hundreds and thousands of millions of people looked at young people, but only one among all saw the Doryphoros in the crowd; hundreds and thousands of millions looked at the sea and the storm, but only one of them was able to find the "9th Wave" there. To see a person among people is also an art, and therefore only a truly enlightened person is capable of this kind of understanding.