The Clay Head Benediction

by Marty Rafter

draw, everything is bad. My sketches are just that, and there is nothing that really feels like it is anything close to what my ambition intends. So, I draw some more, but I am still in a heightened state of excitement from my sudden realization, so I decide to work on some projects around the building. After I have checked all of the hallway lights, and cleaned up a little bit, I get back to work, but my ideas are still stunted, and all of my drawings are constrained and derivative. So, I go out for a walk and try to channel up some inspiration. I walk around aimlessly for a while. Then, I stop into a convenience store deli to buy a pint of milk, and there is a thick fingered policeman there looking closely at a display of small stuffed animals. He gently picks up one of the toys and looks at it closely, and then squeezes it between his index finger and thumb and smiles a bit, but when he sees me watching him, he returns the stuffed animal to the display, and shoves his hands into the snug pockets on his uniform.

  And I sit outside and drink my milk and then walk some more, and I start to feel tired, and my mind drifts to the little antagonisms it occupies itself with when I have nothing good to think about. And I think about Brian Folz, and Ben’s case worker who has managed to miss my call every time I have tried, and then I start to think that they might be the reason for my block. Not by their intent, but by my own, and so I try to think of something I can do to add their voices to the tide that will carry me through my project. But Brian Folz is a lost cause, and really, that doesn’t bother me much. Maria Olson does though, and so I go back to my apartment to make a head. The head, a very good one, but not my best work, takes about six hours. By the time I am done, there is a little face with brown glass eyes and real human hair staring back and me, and I am proud. With four more hours left before her office opens, I then decide to make a box for Ms. Olson like the one I made for Ben.

  Then I write a note, it says: “this is all a misunderstanding. Kind Regards, Luke Kolbe”. And I wrap the note into the box, and sit and listen to music for a while until it is time for Ms. Olson’s office to open.

  When I get there, the receptionist does not seem surprised to see me, but she also does not try to call Maria Olson’s extension.

  “Do you expect her in later today?” I ask

  “No, I don’t think so” the receptionist says

  “Do you think there might be a better time for me to come back?”

  “Oh, she is in and out all day. Do you have a message you would like the leave?” The receptionist says as she smiles at me with professional politeness.

  Then, the lobby door opens and another woman walks in. She is short and blond haired and dressed in an eggplant purple suit and bright white sneakers. She is carrying a large laptop sized shoulder brief case, and has two more bags, a lunch bag and a shopping bag in her right hand. The receptionist casts a quick glance to the woman, and then looks back at me, and is about to say something when I cut her off, “Is that her?” I ask

  Before the receptionist can answer, I walk over to the woman and say, “excuse me, are you Maria Olson?”

  And Maria Olson opens her mouth to respond, and the receptionist stands up and says “Wait!” but is already too late

  “I am Luke Kolbe” I say.

  “Oh” says Maria Olson

  “I was hoping to catch you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you”

  “You shouldn’t be here, Mr. Kolbe” she says to me

  “Why not?” I ask

  “For one, because you were not invited” she says in a clinical measured tone

  “But I am here to talk about Ben, you see there has been a...”

  “Mr. Kolbe, it is outside of the boundaries of my professional responsibilities to talk about my clients with...”

  “He is my friend” I say

  “One thing I can tell you, is that it is extremely uncommon in my experience for a supposed friend of one of my clients to be in possession of their medical records” she says

  As she talks, I notice a uniformed security guard enter the lobby, and as he does, the receptionist very gently replaces the telephone on its cradle and returns to watching the conversation between Maria Olson and me.

  “I admit. That was a mistake. And there is a long story behind it...” I say

  “I’m sure there is a long story. There always is, but the fact that remains here today, is that you are not allowed to be in this building, and you are unwelcome to return”

  I remove my backpack to take out the head that I made for her, and the security guard quickly reaches out and smacks my hands, knocking my bag to the floor. Then he grabs me stiffly under my arm and leads me to towards the door.

  “What are you doing?” I ask

  “You were going for your bag” says the security guard.

  “I have a gift for Ms. Olson in there. A peace offering” I say

  And the receptionist says to the security guard, “Do you want me to call someone, Carl?”

  And the security guard looks at me, and I say, “You didn’t have to hit me. I would have listened to you”

  And he relaxes his grip on my arm and says “No. It's under control” to the receptionist, and he talks into his little epaulet radio, and in a minute, another armed security guard comes into the room.

  “That’s his backpack there on the floor” the first security guard says to the second, gesturing to me with his head. “Check that out for me, would you, Dave”

  And the second security guard walks to my backpack, and kneels beside it on one knee and touches the zipper, and then looks up with me with a hard look on his face, and says “you got anything in here that’s going to stick me?”

  “Stick you?” I say

  “Yeah, pins, knives…needles?” He says

  “No” I say

  And the security guard puts on a pair of tight black leather gloves and gingerly unzips it, and takes a little flashlight off of his belt and shines it into my bag. He reaches in, and pulls out the box containing the head.

  “What is this?” The security guard says to me

  “It is a gift for Ms. Olson” I say

  The guard turns to Maria Olson. “Did you ask this man for a gift?”

  “I don’t think that people normally specifically ask for gifts. It is a surprise” I say, and the guard holding me under my arm squeezes me tighter and says

  “You keep your mouth shut.” Then he looks at Maria Olson and says “Ms. Olson?

  And she says that she did not ask for the gift and the guard holding the box very gently unties the ribbon and lifts the lid, and when he does, he gasps loudly and drops the box to the floor. And the guard gripping onto my arm starts shouting “what is it? What is it?”

  “Some kind of dead mouse or something” says the guard, and Maria Olson takes a dramatic step back while the receptionist stands up to get a better look

  And I say, “No it isn’t. It is a clay head. A little sculpture”

  And the other security guard kicks the little head over with his shoe, and stands and looks at it for a while, and then picks it up, and looks at it closer.

  “What is this all about?” He says to me.

  “It isn’t about anything. Ms. Olson has somehow come to believe that I have a negative influence on a mutual friend of ours”

  “..I think it is a little bigger that that” says Maria Olson, and the attention of the room turns to her, but when she doesn’t say anything else, I say,

  “Anyway, it kind of hurts me, so I wanted to make her a little something to show that there are no hard feelings on my end.”

  Maria Olson says, “I have never met this man. Never. In my entire life”

  “Which is why I have been trying to call you.” I say

  I feel a slight relief under my arm as the guard eases his grip a bit. The receptionist says, “He calls here all the time”

  “I wouldn’t say all the time” I say. “Ms. Olson told a good friend of mine who struggles with some mental issues that I am
a dangerous influence, and the only reason that I have tried to call her is because I would like to know why she thinks that”

  “…he just showed up here...Unannounced…with that weird thing...” Maria Olson yells

  “It is a gift. Look, it was even wrapped...it was my way of saying that, I’m not sure why you don’t like me, but here is present, so you will forget about it” I say, and the guard holding me under my arm very casually lets me go.

  And the second guard puts the head back into the box and reties the ribbon, and places the box back into my bag and zips it “What do you want us to do?” The guard says to Maria Olson

  “I want you to remove him from the building”

  “I can go on my own” I say, and the guards seem to agree because they don’t make another attempt to force me to move. Instead, the second guard hands me back my bag.

  “Are you sure you don’t want the head?” I say to Maria Olson

  And she says to the guard, “I would like him removed from the building and informed that he is not permitted to return under any circumstances, and if he does, we will contact the authorities”

  And so, the guards escort me from the building, and even though I offer, neither wanted to take the head that I had originally made for Maria Olson, but they are also pretty polite, and seem to agree that the whole thing is a misunderstanding. But they still send me off with a warning that I am never allowed to return, so I promise them that I will not.

  Walking home, I don’t exactly feel inspired to return to my work, so I walk over to the goldfish pond by the cathedral to check on the