Animated, In More Ways Than One

The house was a shade of blue that should be reserved only for the bottoms of pools or the sides of fishing boats. It covered the whole house, roof to foundation, save the bright electric yellow shutters around every window. It was a shotgun style home in the deep deep marshes of the Florida everglades. A home not meant for the faint of heart.

Great grandmother Aida lived in this house. No one knew exactly how old she was. Or where exactly her accent was from. No one knew her past and no one could predict her future. She was an aged woman of much mystery and gumption. The stories she told were never to be disregarded, as they always accidentally either predicted something or revealed something about history that was never once known. But more than that - she was an artist. And an artist of the most great renowned. Some people even owned pieces of her works. A portrait of a lady in a green dress dancing. A vase filled with the most stunning arrangement of flowers. The thing was, about the woman's art, was that they were never finished. In every single one of her paintings, sketches, drawings or anything - there were always parts left unfinished. A blank eye. No background. Missing strokes or blank spots on the canvas. No one knew why this was, and Grandma Aida never explained. Everyone just assumed it was because she got bored of the pieces. Or excited to move on to the next.

But this... was not the case.

Today was just an ordinary Wednesday, when a familiar Yellow Bicycle rolled up to the porch. It was discarded with a toss to the lawn, and 17-year-old Jessica skipped up the steps. She was no stranger to the strange house. She came almost every day - claiming her grandmother was the only sane stable person in her life. The one who knew her inside and out, who could tell her a story and always make her laugh or cry or dance. Grandma Aida had never failed her precious granddaughter. Ever.

Jessica slipped past the screen door as it crashed shut behind her. Everyone knew the Springs needed replacing, and yet no one cared enough to actually fix them. She was met by her favorite spot in the whole wide world. The sunroom, filled from head to toe with plants of all species and variety. Plants Jessica didn't even know existed. She smiled, running her fingers across that of the giant fig leaves. A frail voice called back from the very far end of the house, snapping Jessica from her little trance.

"Lanny is that you?"

Jessica's smile widened. Her grandmother, being older than dirt itself, had forgotten entirely who she was, at least more or less. So she always called her Lanny, which Grandma Aida had no idea was Jessica's middle name. She loved it. As sad as it was she found it endearing that even Aida's subconscious wouldn't let her go completely.

"I'm here!" She hollered, making her way through the rest of the house. She stepped over huge easels and canvases, Benz of paint and vintage furniture straight out of the 1920s. She found her grandmother approach delicately on the love chair, bright violet fabric glowing in the hot afternoon sun streaming in from the shutters. She held - very gently - a thin paintbrush in her hand. Tapping gently at the canvas the size of her countertops. She had a familiar look of enchantment on her face. As well as impatience. For being an artist, Aida was surprisingly unable to sit still for long periods of time.

Jessica leaned around to get a look at the latest masterpiece, and as soon as her eyes met the front of the canvas she drew in a deep breath.

It was a stirring scene.

The colors and patterns depicted an animal, at least she thought it was an animal. The thing looked like something straight out of a mythological story. It looked like a creature from a fever dream, but somehow it wasn't terrifying or deformed. The thing looked delightful to be honest. People were gathered around it smiling and laughing. The creature could have been a guardian or companion, Jessica had no idea. She just stared at it and as her grandmother Aida added speckles and spots to the feathers tracing down its neck and talons. She added bright oranges and blues. And when Jessica turned back to look at her, a small smile spread across her cheeks.

"His name is Raul," she said calmly. Smiling, she was remembering an old friend from school, which was creepier than the painting itself.

"He's cool." Jessica ventured. She had no idea what else to say, maybe her grandmother finally had lost it.

Then again it wasn't so out of character. Over the past few months she had been painting things like this. Places that don't exist. People with wildly unfamiliar faces. Animals and creatures and critters that look like real life just twisted ever so slightly. Some detailed complete fantasy - and paired of course with the unfinished factor. An unpainted ear or eye or wall. Something was always missing. It was the one and only thing you could count on.

Jessica watched as the painting neared completion. She almost felt as though the longer she stared into the things eyes, the more it stared back at her. She could almost swear she saw it take a breath. Chest rising and falling just as much as her own.

As per usual however, Aida put down the brush before adding the second ear. It just sat as a blank empty hole in the canvas. She leaned back, smacking her lips and smiling wide. Raul was as complete as he would get.

Aida, with greatly shaking hands, and Jessica with a steaming cup of black tea. Before either of them could take a sip, Jessica finally asked a question she had been dying to for a very long time.

"Grandmama," her voice sounded unsure, way wearing across the air between them. "Yes, dear?", said Aida.

"Nothing - just wondering..." Jessica stared at her grandmother. Hoping she would get an answer. "Why... why do you never finish the paintings?"

There was a long pause. Uncomfortable, and long. Her grandmother looked down. Thumbs twisting around the teacup. She frowned and Jessica's heart dropped, she didn't mean to make her sad or anything. Aida continued to stare out the window. A bird flew by, bright blue and green feathers catching the sun. Grandmother set her tea aside, turned back to face her granddaughter. Entirely serious, and with a completely grave straight face, she whispered the following.

"I can't let them all come to life."