The floor in Arthur Nickel’s basement was covered in old purple matted shag carpeting, and the walls were covered in paper that had been so yellowed by time and cigarette smoke that the flowers on it look decayed and wilted. The room was devoid of furniture, except for a small oak coffee table. It stood on rickety legs, and the surface was covered in rings from long gone drinks. The finish had been dulled and worn away by time, but was still visible on the sides of the legs if the light hit them just right. One corner had been broken away, and the pale wood beneath it stuck out like the face of a sharp cliff.
Before it was put in the basement, the table had sat in an apartment that Arthur had lived in with his new wife, and his newborn son. She had been beautiful, with dark chestnut hair and eyes grey and hard as steel that were between her haughty cheekbones and her slanted arched eyebrows. Their baby boy, Zander, had been beautiful as well, with a tuft of soft sandy hair sprouting from just above his forehead and his mothers steely eyes.
Arthur stood in front of the mantle in his current home, a small bungalow not too far from a park with a pond in the middle. He loved to watch the sun as it moved across the wall above the mantle, he would breathe in and remember the little boy, or the young happy family that had left him so long ago. He remembered how his son used to crawl around the legs of the coffee table, and giggle and smile when Arthur would crawl around with him. His wife would stand aloof in the kitchen, never touching the baby unless he needed feeding or to be dressed.
Arthur sighed, and began to dust the mantle. There were no pictures on it to be moved, nor were there any pictures throughout the house. The walls were bare and simple. All of the furniture was beige and all of the walls were white, to match the white shirt and khaki pants that Arthur always wore. Everyday he would go from breakfast, to coffee, to dusting, to vacuuming, to lunch, to reading the paper, to laundry, to dinner, and finally to bed before the sun went down.
Arthur jumped when the phone rang, and set down his duster and walked nervously to it.
“Uhm... Hello?”
“Arthur! Glad you picked up, it’s Ma.”
“Ma?”
“Yes, your Mother. You remember me, your mother.”
Arthur paused, he had not spoken to his mother since he had moved into the bungalow.
“Why’d you, uh, why’d you call?”
“I’m just tired, and old, and haven’t seen my boy in so long.”
“Ma, I’m, uh, I’m fine. Just was dusting. Why’d you call?”
“Arthur, it’s-”
Arthur waited for her to finish, but the end of the sentence never came.
“Ma?”
“It’s your father Arthur... He passed Sunday. The service is Thursday. And I want you to be there.”
“Ma I, uh, you know I can’t be there. I, uh, I have to stay in.”
“Now we both now that’s not true, Arthur! You didn’t see your father for years, not since you moved into that little sterile box you live in. He missed seeing you around, and well, it’s not like your being shut up all the time made him any better.”
“Ma.”
“Arthur you know I’m right. I haven’t heard more than ten words from you since they locked that crazy wife of yours up! Now the least you can do is come pay your respects to your father! Hell we oughta lock-”
As she spoke, Arthur felt tears rise in his eyes, and his throat began to close as pain gripped him.
“M-ma, please stop. Please. Your being so loud, ma, please.”
The voice on the phone stopped and took a breath.
“I-I’m sorry. I just don’t know you anymore, Arthur. You were so bright, and had it all laid out. Had that wife and that baby boy, and everything together. And, sure, she lost it. But that’s-”
Arthur did not hear the rest of the sentence. He took a deep breath, and wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Ma! Enough, Ma! You have no idea. It was so messy in there, she had stained everything. And when I got home it was so silent, and she was smiling, Ma. And the carpet was all stained up under the coffee table, and the corner was chipped off. You don’t get it, Ma! I kept scrubbing and scrubbing but the stain never came out. I looked everywhere for Zander, but all I found were more stains. They were everywhere! And even after they took her and told me the whole apartment was clean, I knew they were wrong, or lying, or... I just had to leave, to be clean. And out there it’s filthy, and I can’t go, Ma!”
“You think you would come out of sympathy, Arthur. I feel like I lost you, and you know what it’s like to loose-”
Arthur dropped the receiver, and let the phone hang by its cord. The voice on the other line just kept making an unintelligible series of sounds, like a jazz band trying to play three songs at once. He ran up the stairs into the bare master bedroom, and opened the window. He looked at the sky, and how brilliant the sun was that day. He tilted his head back in the light, and wished to be back in that apartment without his wife, so he could be alone and filthy again. Arthur let the warm light hit his cheeks and looked down out of the window. He looked out across the street to the park, with its tall cottonwood trees, and peaceful green lawns all surrounding the cool water of the pond. A mother was pushing her baby down the sidewalk. The infant in the stroller began to fuss, and his mother stooped to pick him up. She sang and held the baby, as it looked over her shoulder and directly at Arthur with two round steel grey eyes.
Arthur looked back into the room. Held his breath, and for the first time in years Arthur went out of his house and into the outside world.
Gender:
Points: 1300
Reviews: 18