The Bargain. The exhibition hall was packed with people jostling for space in the poorly-ventilated gallery. Tourists and curious visitors
The Bargain
The exhibition hall was packed with people jostling for space in the poorly-ventilated gallery. Tourists and curious visitors surrounded the displays and worked themselves into an organized queue from start to finish. The Museum of Art’s touring exhibit was a sell-out, with the museum bringing their most famous sculptures, including replicas of larger-than-life statues from Athens. The statues were portraits of royalty, of gods to be honored and worshipped, that deserved the adoration people lavished on them. The models gave off an air of pride, almost aloofness. It was as if they could stare down their chiseled noses with their colourless eyes, and sniff, with disdain, at the commoners that stood in awe at them. The white of their skins seemed iridescent, glowing under the bright lights, vanquishing any guesses that they might be only mortals. The Grecian figures basked in the light of camera flashes, as the public sought to preserve the image of a god, as if trying to take some of their aura home with them.
“Showcasing their work instead of mine? The audacity!” Arthur Brown thought and cursed under his breath. It was a privilege, no, a right that he and his associates should be there to put the museum authorities in their places. It was he who had worked to submit application after application for his works to be showcased to the world, and now the museum would not let him have even the crust off the pie, only to give it to other artisans whose work paled in comparison to his. He deserved the credit, or at least given an opportunity for one of his pieces to see the world, not a thank-you note that meant nothing, nothing at all to the hours that he put in. Loyalty did not mean anything to the young directors these days. They thought they knew everything, what with all their certificates and qualifications, but experience was priceless, but the yuppies assumed that anything could be obtained with enough cash. They would not see it coming, not expecting Arthur to trail them all the way to Spain, or that his revenge would run so deep. He planned to go on vacation for a while, after seeking revenge, with his money in offshore banks, of course. The English authorities had no jurisdiction there, and exposure of his work with his competitors far away would not hurt.
