A PORTRAIT OF TRAGEDY
By
J. Niessen
* * * * *
Published By:
A Portrait of Tragedy
Copyright 2013 by J. Niessen
Cover Page by J’s Art Emporium, Copyright 2013
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
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A Portrait of Tragedy
The couple walks in to their anticipated studio apartment for the first time. A lengthy waiting list postponed their expected move. In the unfurnished accommodations the walls are painted a dull white, with plain cabinets, a pantry door, a kitchen sink and a faucet. The bathroom and storage closet are both closed. There’s a collection of door-sized posters (backed with cardboard and wrapped in cellophane) leaning against the entranceway wall.
Lace considers looking through the enlarged pictures, but turns to Judy.
“So, sweetheart, what would you like to do?” hoping she’ll entertain his fascination.
“Let’s go see what there is to eat, Hon.”
His agreeing smile hides the dampening disappointment, not saying aloud, “Judy, you already know what there is to eat.”
His curiosity in the depicted scenes (stowed at the doorway) for now placed aside, knowing he’ll find out later their purpose. What matters most is to help with settling in.
“Here’s all the ingredients, Lace, but I don’t feel like going through the trouble of preparing the dish I had in mind. I was hoping it’d already be fixed.”
“I’ve always enjoyed your cooking. Wouldn’t you prefer a meal you’ve put together?”
“Lace, you know that I would rather you take me out to eat; that way I don’t have to worry about a dirty mess left behind.”
“I understand, dear. I was only wondering if you noticed a difference between the two types of meals?”
“Enough already! It’s food. You eat it and it’s done. It’s not enjoyable either way. End of discussion. I’m just gonna have canned chicken with my salad for lunch.”
Now Lace wonders…as he has many times in the past…is it absentmindedness, complete selfishness, or focused animosity that keeps Judy from ever offering to fix him something? Sure, there’ll be times when she’ll prepare enough for both of them. But never does she ask what he’d like to have. She gets irritable when hungry, suggesting that’s probably why she would neglect asking him about his preference. It still feels lonely, though, he reflects, saddened, and exhales a breath of hot sorrow.
After going through the pantry and cupboards, Judy lets out a frustrated groan, “Go check the storage room to see if there’s a fridge. If so, I hope it has a freezer on the bottom.”
Lace knows what he’ll find when he opens the storage closet. Before proceeding he considers an industrial dolly to roll the awkward appliance in to the small kitchen area.
Within the darkness of the storage room the space feels empty. He reaches for the lightswitch and flips it on. There in the center is a brand new (still in its factory package) fridge, and a dolly. He carts the large unit to the back wall of the kitchen. While crouching to activate the wireless power-receiver, Lace mentions in an optimistic tone, “It’s a good thing energy comes standard with this place. Remember living with the generator constantly running?”
With her mind on other matters she answers, “There’s still a lot of work to be done. We’ll check out the bathroom after lunch.”
Opening the refrigerator door, Lace finds in the crisper a head of lettuce, and extends it to his wife. She hesitates to take the offered produce, replying, “Let’s see what else is in there.”
Lace’s intuition warned him this would happen.
Judy opens the fridge door. Looking into the crisper for herself she finds a sealed bag of different types of fancy leaves to use rather than regular Romaine Lettuce.
She’d never been this particular about her salad before, Lace ponders. Knowing the topic is sure to come up, but hoping she would go to find out for herself, Judy pushes, “I hope you remember the list we talked about, with the Tacori dishes and Ricci silverware?”
Lace keeps from saying something he may regret. With his wife staring, waiting for a response, he knows he’ll have to answer the question before she’ll move on her own.
“It’s the two sets we discussed on the way over. I remember, sweetheart.”
With a fine dish retrieved from the kitchen cabinet, and a fork taken from the silverware drawer, it dawns on Judy that they don’t have a place to sit. It’s been a long time since breakfast, having traveled from their far-off countryside estate, to this expanding residential area. Lace assumed they’d sort the furniture details out later, after eating a quick and simple lunch, however Judy politely imparts “Dear, it’d be nice to be able to sit. It’s unladylike to stand and eat.”
It’s a reasonable request, and Lace hopes to accommodate. He carefully asks, “Do you know what you would like as a dining room set?”
Knowing it won’t be easy to move, Lace grabs the dolly, and heads back to the storage room. Switching the light back on, he finds a circular marble tabletop, the support frame, and legs for assembly. To the side of the setup rest the parts for six chairs and the toolbox he’d hoped for as he was making his way to the closet. Last is the latest fall-style catalog for Judy to occupy her time with as he labors on the construction process for their dining-room set.
Once Lace is done with all the chairs, which Judy insists must be set up, his wife is adamant about watching evening television, prompting the need for another chore.
Having a nutrition shake for lunch, Lace retrieves the TV equipment and begins work on the entertainment center Judy’s decided on from the catalog.
Adding more wants from the storage closet makes their living quarters less spacious. Judy goes along with Lace’s idea to set up a multi-functional couch in front of the TV instillation, which converts to a bed, so they can use the sectional to sleep on as well.
Once they’re settled in for the night (with brand new sheets on their folded out bed) Judy, sounding half asleep, whispers “Maybe we should just start all over in the morning.”
For a moment her husband’s anxiety levels rise, before deducing that she’ll probably change her mind by then. To set his mind at ease Lace concludes silently, “With the bathroom done I can relax. That should be the last big project.”
The thought is semi-enlightening, but Lace remains awake. He slips out from bed to get dressed. Kissing his wife goodbye prompts her to warn, awakened by the stir, “Be careful.”
It’s the second day and Judy’s anxious to get it started.
The bathroom is no larger than a walk-in closet, and though she and Lace were instructed not to make outward additions, that doesn’t mean they can’t renovate in the space they have. To the end of the restroom is a tiled corner with an overhead spigot; the 3-walled space doubling as a bathtub and shower. The water basin’s hardly big enough for one person
to sit in, let alone stretch out and enjoy having a bath in.
There’s the sound of a plate dropping. Judy sharply curses, “For Christ’s sake.”
Wondering if the alarm was purposeful, Lace awakes as Judy’s done with her breakfast.
“There’s food on the stove if you’re hungry, dear,” Judy replies, as Lace yawns and stretches his sore muscles. “And be careful in the kitchen, there’s broken glass everywhere.”
Unaware of the walls before, he notes the dimness of the room and its off-white color. Judy crosses her arms, waiting for him to fold in the bed, scanning through the TV channels as she waits. By the time he’s done with the couch she comments, “We have all these stations and not a single thing is on! Even with On-Now I can’t find one good movie to watch.
“I’ll be in the bathroom,” she remarks, tossing the remote onto the sofa. “You’ll have to go to the closet to get a dustpan and broom,” reminding Lace to clean up the shattered mess.
Not only is there nothing to peak his interests, but there are no news channels either, Lace thinks, flipping through the directory guide. He settles on a listing that plays commercial-free music, then shuffles to the small corner of the kitchen, gets some ketchup out of the fridge to squirt on the side of his scrambled eggs and hash browns, and pours himself a bowl of cereal.
“I hope you cleaned the tiles after taking a shower last night!” Judy hollers over the sound of falling water. “We need to do something about this tub, dear!” she finishes by closing the bathroom door. Alarmed, Lace looks down at glittering shards of glass all around his feet.
After careful cleanup, Lace pours milk over a bowlful of Captain Crunch, and studies the streaming listings. It’s an off-time of the hour, and yet there is a movie he’s been hoping to see for the longest time. Enthralled, he absentmindedly leaves behind his unfinished breakfast plate on the kitchen counter, going to sit down and watch with his cereal.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Judy interrupts, opening the bathroom door to release the confined steam from the room, and disrupting his immersion 20 minutes into Pilgrim’s Progress.
“We have a lot to do today. You need to set up the washer and dryer for one. Then get the lighting done in here. I’ll start looking for the tub we want, that way I can have a moment to relax and take a bath tonight before bed.”
As if a giant warning sign were glowing in the kitchen, Judy then adds, “And Lace! Clean up after yourself. I made breakfast, the least you could do is take care of the dishes.” With a low groan Lace turns off the TV and then heads to the kitchen.
By the time he’s finished with breakfast and has the dishes put away, Judy’s out from the bathroom and back to sitting on the couch, flipping through the fall catalog. A tinge of guilt insists shame within Lace, for having even considered watching the rest of the movie. Still standing in wait, he asks “Have you had a chance to figure out how you want the bathroom to look?” encouraging Judy to make up her mind for the next step of renovations. With the components chosen, the supplies are acquired from the closet and the project is set to task.
“We really need the chandelier, that way you can get it out and have it set up in time for dinner,” she informs as Lace labors on the bathroom. It’s close to lunch time and he’s trying to get the large tub she’s picked out properly fitted. Glancing at the dated countertop, and cabinets below the sink, he knows that renovation will be next on the “honeydew list” (Honey, do this).
Intuition warns that as pleasant as his wife is behaving now, Judy plays the part when wanting something done. He dreads having to address his pending work schedule, by recalling times when his wife has harassed him for leaving, and brought on cause for him to worry while he was gone. He imagines the ease of slipping away from the apartment without mention.
Every time he’s about to leave for work, Lace considers this may be his last opportunity to spend time with his wife. The idea of leaving without saying goodbye and then never returning, due to a tragic happenstance occurring at work, brings horrible feelings from the mere contemplation of doing such a thing to the woman that depends on him.
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