The Red Box

by Laura Sgarella

  “I have found a flat where I live on my own. I’m simply Mark now. Not Mark the homeless.”

  “We are happy about this. Now, we apologize, we have to get on the first train to go back home. We hope to be able to see you as soon as possible. By Mark and…with pleasure.” Araon kissed smartly Mark’s companion. Jill and him rushed to the station eager to enjoy a fabulous night at home. It all started with a kiss to end the day with… There is nothing else to say.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Mark Ward’s flat in Bazenchrat was in a mess. Socks everywhere, boots, boxer shorts, all of them were on the floor. Mark decided to take a day off that Monday in order to have more time to think over and over. His thoughts were addressed to his usual dilemma: the acrostic L. A..U. R. A. Did the owner of the pub know about it? If so, why not talk? He was very calm when he had a chat with him. The blood was very smelly and stinking as menses blood. In comparison, Sharon Tate’s blood with which her murderers wrote the word pigs on the wall, was a bummer. Another idea came to his mind. A woman who had been forced by her boyfriend to commit abortion wrote her name in the form of an acrostic on the pub door with her menses blood in order to ransom him. “The world we are living in is going to be a sewer,” he thought under the shower. “I have to be nice and tidy to start a brand-new day in full respect of my revolutionary ideas.” He looked at himself in the mirror and he saw a handsome, tall guy without the finest wrinkle in his face.

  Now he was ready to go and get the train to rush to the Van Gogh Museum. There were about two hundred paintings of the genius but Mark’s favourite one was, incidentally, The Sunflowers. He remembered that there was another version of the painting, the one with a lily in the middle of the sunflower. The message was clear: he felt alone. It was not probably schizophrenia that killed the great artist but his loneliness. But was that painting exposed there or was it the fervor of Mark’s notorious imagination? Or was it simple ignorance? He needed to stop and get a cup of coffee somewhere. The foyer, where they served it, was in the atrium next to his room.

  He heard the loudspeaker calling a certain officer call Jeff to be present at the office as soon as possible A manly man rushed out of the foyer dropping some money from his trouser pockets. Mark went to collect them for him.

  “Here is a five euro note for this guy’s coffee,” the officer said to the cashier to thank Mark for his kind gesture.

  Mark blushed instinctively when he realized one of the cashiers was watching him. She was a beautiful creature, not very tall, with curly long hair and a huge breast. “How old are you?” she asked Mark to break the ice.

  “Actually, I am thirty years old,” he answered clumsily.

  “You are a foreigner, aren’t you? How long have you been living in Amsterdam?”

  “Not a long time. I started working in a riding school a few months ago and I bought a small flat in Bazenchraft. What about you? Is this your first job?”

  “No, I have worked as a shop assistant for a couple of months I have a degree in law and frankly I am fed up with being underemployed.”

  “I’m sure luck will bless you very shortly. Can I see you sometime in the evening?”

  “Yes, here is my telephone number. Call me whenever you like in the evening after six pm.”

  “I’ll contact you shortly. Bye for now:”

  When Mark reached the exit of the museum, he bumped into Jeff the officer. “Is everything OK?” asked Mark.

  “Not really. I have been called to be informed that the key of the main room of the museum has a duplicate. It’s the room I have to look after. They took a note of the fact in the register of the disciplinary procedure. Two more notes and I’ll be out of work.”

  “I’m sure you won’t lose the job. By the way thank you for the coffee.”

  “It has been a pleasure. I hope to see you again.”

  “I hope so. Bye for now.”

  “Bye.”

  Mark had a lot of time left to organize everything for the day. He had heard of a guy who had a sort of farm on the very outskirts of Amsterdam who used to give a bottle of fresh milk for free to whoever went to visit him. Mark was looking forward to going and staying with him for a short visit. Walking in the street was such a pain! The stink of cigarettes came from a group of teenagers. The bad smell made Mark believe they were smoking joints. A girl put a cigarette in the mouth of her companion and he started moving her bottom with voluptuousness. What a dreadful sight! He walked as fast as he could and he arrived at the train to get to the farmhouse.

  Once arrived on the very outskirt of Amsterdam, it was not difficult to notice the building he was looking for. It was just opposite the train station stop. “This must be the place,” he thought.

  Sure enough, he rang the bell and a man in his sixties opened the door welcoming him, friendly. “Hi, my name is Hans. Am I wrong or you are here for a bottle of milk?” He introduced himself.

  “I’m here looking for friendship I have heard you go to my riding school, so I decided to pay you a visit. my name is Mark. Mark Ward,” Mark answered giving a glance to the garden where he saw a thick population of cows, bulls and mild beasts. “I hope I haven’t disturbed you,” he said shyly.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to seeing strangers here at any time. I’ll show you the house. Come in.”

  Mark was taken to a big sitting-room with shelves with piles of books, large spaces, an oak table and a disturbing calendar with a girl in a bikini. In the middle of the shelves there was a picture of a well-groomed woman. She was the wife of Hans. “You are astonished, aren’t you?” Hans said a bit annoyed by the way Mark was looming at the picture of his wife. “My wife, the woman in the picture you are devouring with your eyes, died three years ago and now I am all alone here. My two kids are working abroad and I see them rarely.”

  “I also live alone. I think today I made an impression on a young lady in the museum. She gave me her telephone number in order to meet each other soon.”

  “I wish you good luck and, be careful, women today are very cunning. Come with me, I’ll give you a bottle of milk.”

  “Thank you very much. It’s fresh and beautiful to the sight.” Mark and

  Hans had a sympathy way of chatting together. They were glad to share their opinion on everything but they were shy when it came to talk about their personal life. Time passed quickly and the time arrived for Mark to go and pick the girl at the museum up. Actually, he had to call her on the phone first. He trembled with deep fear and, finally, he contacted the girl. “Hi. It’s Mark speaking. Are you free today?”

  “Hi Mark. For you I am always free. Let’s meet each other at the museum entrance in half an hour. I’ll be with you shortly.”

  “I’d rather pick you up at your address at seven pm. I’ll take you to a fabulous place.”

  They went out for dinner eventually and Mark was looking forward to sliding in a passionate kiss. Rose was nervous. She didn’t know if she had made the right choice to meet Mark. She didn’t even remember what falling in love meant. Anyway, they had a nice time and Mark accompanied Rose home at half past ten. When Rose made the gesture of getting out of the car, Mark approached her with warmth and bent his lips against the one of Rose. “It is not time yet,” she said but she finished with being involved in one passionate kiss after the other.

  Jill was all alone early in the morning. Araon left the flat before seven am. to go to the yard to pay his employees. Now the yard had to be closed and the workers had to wait six months before starting work again. Jill was feeling weird and lazy. All she wanted was to lay down in bed and abandon herself to her own thoughts. She had a piece of paper where she had written different names: Piss, Bulk, Iron, Rokin, Amstel. She placed the paper under Araon’s cushion. They had to choose the name of the baby together, it was fair enough. Her mood changed disruptively during the day. She constantly alternated elation with depression. She had spent joyful hours with Araon talking about their arriving responsibilities as pare
nts and it seemed it worked. But she was prey to fits of depression. Birth depression arrived earlier than due for her. She thought that all the myths regarding motherhood were big flops. She experienced moments of such tiredness that she blamed all the women crying: there is no greater joy. But, nevertheless, she was sure she would experience such ecstatic moments as well. Actually, she knew very little about motherhood. She had thought well to book an epidural in advance since she had always been frightened by the pains of giving birth in her life. And Araon wasn’t able to face that reality properly. Not that she was blaming him. Of course, he had to be a good companion anxious of sharing all those beautiful and sad moments with her. He had pledged to enter the delivery room with her and make his best to relieve her pain. No foreign bodies would be admitted in that room. They clearly wanted novices to go away from the delivery room during those magic moments.

  Jill had a glance at her wristwatch and she realized it was already ten am. She was supposed to attend the knitting course at eleven am. But she was too tired to go. She phoned the teacher of the course to make sure that she wouldn’t be annoyed by her absence. The teacher, in her turn was very kind to her. She simply said that they would go through the former lesson that day. She just advised Jill to exercise herself at home. “Do not worry – exclaimed Jill - here I have the little dress for my baby. It’s all green and it has an l in the middle of the front side. I have placed it next to Araon’s favourite jacket so that he will see it as soon as he arrives.”

  “I’m proud of you Jill. I hope to see you here next time. Enjoy your day,” said the teacher.

  Jill made the bed and wandered through the house doing nothing but savour the freshness of praising sweet memories. She had in her mind the picture of Araon dressed as a pastry cook for having lost a bet. He was supposed to be blindfolded and recognize her by the way of breathing. She also remembered the day they were on a boat and saw in the small trait of the sea a cat looking for help. It was the cat that now embellished their days with his lovely purring. It was easy for her to make comparisons between the days of the past and the current ones. The past was full of companionship of the glad guys who usually hung out with them. The present was a frame of distinguished loneliness. After all, that was what they wanted. Jill was willing to enjoy her pregnancy with Araon only at her side. She became suddenly sad at the weird thought of husbands who cheat on their wives. She had never been suspicious that Araon would be so disloyal to her. He was faithfulness in person. They trusted one another, being never alarmed by the so-called safe sex.

  Her agony was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. It was a guy selling asparagus for one euro. She went to take five euros and thanked the guy for her surprise. The rice with asparagus cream was Araon’s favourite food. The doorbell was very accomplishing: it had a cathartic effect on Jill who finally lost her laziness. She forgot the bed and started her housekeeping She did only some dusting of the furniture in the flat and washed the floor of the toilet. Araon would be home very soon.

  As a matter of fact, Araon closed the yard that precise moment and went into a pub to relax himself with a pint of beer before going back home. He was alone and he didn’t want to speak to anybody. He ordered an ale and he sipped it slowly to taste it as a punch-drunk guy. Unfortunately, a man came next to him and started to talk. “Hi, it’s the first time I’ve seen you here. Are you a foreigner?” he asked Araon.

  “Actually, I was born here,” answered Araon who felt the victim of a betrayed intimacy.

  “I guess you are the son of immigrants.”

  “Sure I am. But what about you?”

  “I am a poor blind man. I came to Amsterdam three months ago, I started my activity and now I’m looking for love. I feel so lonely. I love this foreshortened view of Amsterdam. I hope not to be too boring.”

  “Not at all. Go ahead.”

  “I have a lot of hobbies but I haven’t got too many girlfriends. Sometimes I believe women are intimidated by my tattoos on the arm.”

  “I don’t think this is the problem. Try again and you will be luckier. I apologize now I have to go. My wife is waiting for me for lunch.”

  “Don’t worry about the beer. I have already paid for it for you. If you want to see me again, I am here always at the same time. By for now.”

  “By for now and thank you for the company and everything.”

  Meanwhile Mark was in his flat with Rose. It was ten am. and he had just woken up. Rose was still sleeping. What happened during the night was a surprise for him. He went to dress without having a wash. He wanted Rose’s odour to stick to his skin. So he went to the kitchen to prepare some brunch. He had it all: omelets, fries, eggs and rice. Sure Rose would appreciate it.

  “Good morning, love.” A faint voice could be heard from the bedroom.

  “Can I call you love?” asked Rose.

  “Of course you can. Actually, you have to do it. I didn’t want to wake you up but I have prepared some brunch for the two of us.”

  “Thanks, but I’d like to have a shower first.”

  “Sure. Everything you need is inside.”

  Rose enjoyed the warm water on her body. She picked some body oil to be rub into her skin and she took from her handbag some antiaging cream.

  “It’s already twelve o’ clock, isn’t it?” she said aloud.

  “Yes, darling. I was supposed to be at the riding school by now. I will take you there after brunch and I’ll show you the way I work.”

  “Fantastic. I have a day off from work. I asked for it because I was sure that I would wake up late today even if I had not imagination enough to think that things would have proceeded like this. It’s the first time for me.”

  “You have not to justify yourself. I have a crush on you.”

  They ate quickly and rushed to the riding school by car. The journey to the place of work was so easy. Rose felt comfortable and protected by the way Mark was driving: not too fast, not too slow. He was patient, calm and well mannered. Rose was dreaming of him as Mr. Right. As soon as they were at the riding school Mark dropped from the pocket of his jacket the necklace with the acrostic written on it in red. “What is it?” asked Rose.

  “Nothing special. It’s a lucky charm.”

  At the riding school a lot of people were waiting for Mark who apologized promptly for his delay. He introduced his companion to the jockeys and started to work. It was a beautiful day which finished at seven pm. Rose and Mark went to their own way and departed from each other with a passionate kiss.

  London summer didn’t arrive late. It was not foggy any more. “Nelly. “

  “I told you to call me Samantha.”

  “OK, Samantha.”

  “Yes, Lucia?”

  “You look so astounded. Are you ready for our next adventure?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about” answered Samantha a bit downtrodden.

  “Tell me: who is that certain Van der Baast. I heard you on the phone with him when I was pampering myself.”

  “What acute hearing!” Samantha said shocked. “He is a doctor famous all Europe around for keeping organs available for transplantation. My mother, before dying, expressed the will to donate her gall bladder. And I have to respect her will. It was her only organ which was not affected by cancer. I just want to make sure that the organ will be donated to a blood relation of mine. That’s it.”

  “And you call him late in the evening?”

  “He assured me that I could contact him any time during the day. He puts people first. He must be so exhausted when he dealt with so many requests from whoever needs him!”

  “OK, you have won. But now we have not to forget that we have an appointment to see the flat you are wishing to buy. And you have to start working at half past eight. We have to rush.”

  The guy of the flat arrived on time to pick the two women up at the hotel. He drove them into one of those narrow streets in Soho and welcomed them into the flat. “Here we are,” he said. “I hope this flat
will be the one of your dreams. Here is the kitchen, a modern style. Finally, the sitting room. As you can see there are a lot of books left for your enjoyment. And here you can see the bedroom and the toilet. I’ll rent it to you for eight hundred pounds per month. Oh, I forgot the most important thing: the safe. You must be careful when you put your money in it. Thieves are cunning visitors of these streets. You can choose the combination that meets your needs. I hope I have been helpful. Now I drive you to work Samantha and…I have not been told the name of your friend.”

  “Lucia. I am Samantha’s best friend.”

  “Where are you directed?” said the guy with gallantry.

  “You can accompany me whenever you like. I’m here for just one week. I think I’ll go to the hotel.”

  The guy was off like a shot and he immediately took Samantha to the Versace shop. “I hope you think everything over and that you’ll make the right choice. Ring me when you are ready to give me an answer. By for now and have a nice day at work,” he said.

  Samantha was a bit irritated by the man’s manners. When she entered the shop, she had just to toast for a victory: her salary, she had been told, was raised to two thousand pounds per months without an increase in the hours of work. Probably the guy of the flat had a hand in the matter. “Are you relaxed enough to start dealing with our customers? I’m happy about your make-up. If you want to wear something special, please, feel free to choose the dress you like.”

  Samantha nodded and waited patiently for the first customer to arrive. Suddenly the cell phone rang. “You are not supposed to receive phone calls at work, you know?”

  “Sorry, I’ll switch my mobile off,” said Samantha embarrassed. She read the number: it was Van der Baast.” He perceived the fact with the pinch of salt. She hid the cell in her jacket pocket and started seriously to work.