Short Story
Mr. and Mrs. Marks had been married for some 50 odd years at this point and had a pretty routine schedule. Mrs. Marks would get up at dawn every morning to make Mr. Marks a simple breakfast of oatmeal with exactly four slices of a Granny Smith apple in it, two eggs sunny side up, a slice of toast, a cup of black coffee, and half a glass of orange juice. She’d make herself some too because it was just easier to eat what he did than it was to make two different breakfasts.
At exactly 7:01 Mr. Marks alarm would go off because of course, he had to get his extra minute of sleep. He’d let out a long sigh, roll until he could sit up, put on his slippers, and stretch his old bones for a good thirty seconds before beginning his day. He always grunted quite loudly while doing this, sounds that use to annoy Mrs. Marks to no end. But now she hardly noticed them.
In the following order, he would brush his teeth, wash his face, brush what was left of his hair, and put on his deodorant. Then he’d put on his uniform, pants first and then button his shirt top to bottom. Sitting back down on his bed he’d put on his right sock and right shoe and then his left sock and left shoe. Only after grabbing his hat off the stool, would he go down to meet Mrs. Marks for breakfast.
As always everything was perfectly warm and ready for him. When he came down the stairs, Mrs. Marks would be pouring his cup of coffee and only when he sat down and picked up his fork to begin with his eggs did she pick up her spoon to start on her oatmeal.
Mr. Marks would comment on the weather, complain that he couldn’t get his paper anymore and Mrs. Marks would nod. Mrs. Marks might ask him to drop a package off after work or pick up something and Mr. Marks would nod. Then at 7:31 exactly, because of course he needed his extra minute to digest, he’d rise and bring his dishes to the sink. Kissing her goodbye on the cheek he’d say, “Thank you dear. Excellent breakfast, oatmeal always sticks to your ribs. I recon, I’ll be tide over til lunch.” Then he’d grab his lunch pail and be out the door. On his way to Magginns wax factory.
That day was a Friday. But not just any Friday, it’s was an every other Friday, and every other Friday Mr. Marks got paid. When he got home he always gave his check to Mrs. Marks so she could pay the bills on Monday and keep their livelihood in order. Then he’d sit down to his favorite dinner, a turkey bacon casserole she’d started making as a joke a few years into their marriage: Bring home the bacon and you can actually have some.
One thing was different that Friday though. Instead of the usual monotony at his boring factory job, he found a machine at his workstation, doing his job at ten times his speed.
“Marks!” Mr. Con, the foreman shouted. “My office!”
Mr. Marks took his hat off, wringing it in his hand, his heart pumping he walked slowly into Mr. Con’s office to delay the inevitable.
Mr. Con shut the door right on his heels.
“Hurry up now, time is money. Listen here Marks, it’s time you retired. You put in a good many years here. But, well, times change. Technology updates and we all have to adjust. Some people just get left behind.”
“I can’t retire yet. I have things that need to be taken care of. How will I find another job at my age? What will I tell the missus?”
Mr. Con shrugged and put out his hand. “Anyway thanks for all your help old boy. Here’s your last check and we got you this plaque. You can hang it up at your place with pride. Your welcome. Best of luck to you.”
He then pressed a button to open his door and turned back to his screen saying all he had to on the matter.
“Honey what are you doing home so early? Are you feeling okay?” Mrs. Marks said an hour later.
Mr. Marks sank deep into his favorite living room chair and sighed, the same long sigh he did in the morning and looked at his wife.
“Here’s my last check dear. I got fired today.”
“What?! Why?!”
“Well they’re forcing me into retirement. They got in some new fancy machine at my station that can do triple what I do in half the time.”
“Surely you must’ve had some kind of notice though before hand?”
“No dear, just found out about it today when I walk in and saw it. They gave me this plaque for my years of service.”
“Years of service indeed! You gave them the best years of your life and they throw you away like an old rag without out so much as a howdy do and with no concern to you and yours. I don’t even think that’s legal. I’ll tell them exactly what they can do with their ole plaque-”
“Now Mrs. Marks there’s no need for that kind of talk.”
“No need? Honey they used you up and threw you away the minute something better came along. If there was ever a need it’s now.”
“I may be old now dear. But I am far from used up. I have always taken care of us and I always will. Don’t worry I’ll figure this out. I can get another job. I have years worth of experience being a loyal employee.”
It was Mrs. Marks turn to sigh and she just shook her head and put her arm on her husbands shoulder.
“I’m sorry this happened, you certainly deserve better. But maybe this can be a good thing. Take a little rest. We’ve got enough of a nest egg to help tide us over until you’re ready to go back to work.”
"You always were better with the money than me sweetie. I’m glad you’ve been saving for us, but I’ve always been a working man. I’m not interested in retiring just yet. I’m going to lay down for a bit. Sorry, I don't much feel like bacon casserole today.”
The next day Mr. Marks got up to go look for a job and the next day and the next. But he kept getting turned down.
“I’ll tell you Mrs. Marks all they want these days are young people or machines. I was young once, but I traded in my youth for experience, and now no one wants it. I just don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“I know dear. I’m so sorry. But you’ll find something. Just try again tomorrow,” Mrs. Marks said preoccupied.
“I’m not used to being stuck in this house all day. What do you usually do?”
“Oh well I cook and clean. Clean and cook. Run errands. Hey why don’t you bring that box to Agnes house for me? It’s just some things she needs for tomorrow’s bake sale and it’’ll get you out the house for a bit.”
“Why not? It’s not like I have anything else to do?”
“Great dinner will be ready when you get back. I’ll be...washing clothes in the basement.”
After dinner Mr. Marks was restless. He kept flipping through channels and walking back and forth. He had several cups of coffee and couldn’t stop pestering his wife.
“You know what Mrs. Marks. I think I’ll start cleaning out that basement. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. You usually do all the cleaning around here, but since I don’t have anything else going on I could contribute right? You’ve been trying to get it cleaned out for years and I couldn’t tell you the last time I was down there. It’ll keep my mind off things. There’s no reason something that that should be a one person job when we can do it together.”
“NO! I mean not right now honey. It’s- it’s just that I have boxes everywhere. It’s a maze in there right now and I’d hate for you to hurt yourself while you’re looking for work. Don’t want to give 'The Man' another reason you know? I’d love for you to help once it’s more manageable, but for now why don’t you kick back and relax? I know you’re worried, but don’t you think you’ve earned a little rest?”
“Well I’m sure I could handle it but I guess you’re right. I can try to take it easy. But hey, why don’t I help you in the garden? What are you planting right now? Need some helping hands tomorrow morning?”
“Oh no dear, just enjoy your break. I do a little bit of trimming and pulling, but the garden pretty much takes care of itself these days, and don’t you go bothering it. Here look, this is Netflix, it’s a new way to flip back and forth. You can binge all your favorite shows. Once you find a show to watch, all the episodes are right there for you to play back to back, kinda like an old TV marathon. People spend hours watching until it’s over and then they feel this great sense of loss that it is. You should try it.”
“I don’t know if that’s for me. Everything’s better in moderation I always say. Anyway I don't want to add any further to that feeling.”
Mrs. Marks put her arms around her husband. "Sorry dear, that was careless of me to say I didn't mean-."
"Oh, no I know. It's fine. I just hope you know you can still count on me to help you. I don't want my wife thinking I'm useless too," he said with his head down, absent mindedly patting her hand.
She lifted his head up and kissed him on the cheek. Then turned his face so he was looking directly at her. "I have never thought that and I never will. No matter what happens."
Five days after finishing Blue Bloods, and feeling lost and bored out of his mind, Mr. Marks decided to go down to the basement after all. I’ll surprise her he thought. Mrs. Marks had left to do the shopping and despite what she said, he had the feeling she didn’t think he was capable of helping her around the house. He aimed to prove her wrong.
As he walked down the steps to the basement he saw what looked to be fluorescent lights beaming out from underneath the door. Frowning, he pushed open the door and to his amazement found at least 40 tall green leafy plants in trays all around the room. There were four little old grannies about his age, that he recognized in white lab coats misting them.
“What the hell?” Mr. Marks said falling backwards.
“Lawd have mercy.” He heard one of the ladies say.
“It was bound to happen at some point” said another.
“I’m surprised it took this long,” said the last.
“Loretta, Agnes, Mabel, Victoria, what are you ladies doing in my basement?!
“Mmhhhmmmm, nope, don’t come in here yelling with all that foolishness. You’ll upset the plants. Talk to your wife, said Loretta who promptly walked up and shut the door.
Incredulous Mr. Marks went upstairs to find his wife but she still wasn’t home. You never really know your spouse, he thought and decided to check out the garden in backyard for the first time in many many years. The plants back there were similar to the ones in the basement. He started to think about all the times she’d had him deliver or pick up packages from her friends over the years and how he’d never asked or paid attention to what they were for. He began to realize why it was taking her years to clean out the basement and why she didn’t seem too concerned with him finding another job.
“Honey I’m home. I know you’re not working now, but it’s still an every other Friday. How do you feel about having turkey bacon casserole?” Mrs. Marks said.
Mrs. Marks had been bringing home the bacon for who knows how long and Mr. Marks hadn’t even realized it.
“I’m in the garden,” was all he said.
“Oh dear. Well I guess the grass is out of the bag now isn’t it,” she said coming up behind him with a nervous laugh and a worried look on her face.
Mr. Marks did not find that amusing.
“What the hell is going on here? Why are your friends in our basement in lab coats? Are you some kind of drug lord or something? Have you just been using me all this time?! Am I just some fool for you?”
“No! No, of course not dear!”
“Don’t you dear me right now Mrs. Marks, explain! I swear I don't even know you!"
"Of course you know me. I'm still the same woman you've been married to all these years," she said nervously wringing her hands together.
"Are you? Because it certainly doesn't seem like it! Are you running some kind of network? All those packages you had me bring around, am I just a mule to you?" He shouted.
“I got bored okay and we were struggling! You didn't want me to get a job but always wanted me to handle the money so I handled it!”
"Oh, I see. So this is my fault then," he said quietly turning away from her.
Seeing her husbands crushed face she felt a pang in her heart and tried to back track.
“No! Please listen honey. It's not your fault. I wasn't bored of you, just bored being here all day without you and nothing to do but cook, clean, and pay the bills. Cooking and cleaning this place is definitely work but I wanted more purpose! Then I’d feel guilty because you’d come back dead tired and here I am complaining of boredom. And all that work you put in, almost all day everyday, and you still weren’t making enough. I know you wanted to take care of me and you have. But I couldn’t have you taking on more hours. It just wasn't right.”
Mr. Marks glared in silence so Mrs. Marks continued nervously.
“One day Gretchen- you remember Gretchen? Matt Henderson’s wife, who died all those years ago, and everyone was like that’s way too young for someone named Gretchen to die. Well anyway, we became friends and I told her about our predicament and she offered me a solution. She said all I had to do whenever I saw Bernadine Harvey again, you know from church, was just give her this small little baggie and she’d help me out. Soon it was a few more and it just kept growing until it was more than enough to make up what we were missing from your paycheck.”
“Why didn’t you turn to your husband when we were struggling instead of Gretchen? Why didn’t you at least tell me you were doing this?” Mr. Marks snapped.
“Oh I don’t know, we got married so young and you were so proud of making an honest living at the factory and taking care of us. I loved you so much and wanted to help, but I also didn’t want you to think less of me or less of yourself. Years went by and Gretchen died. Somebody needed to take over. You were so tired all the time and never paid any attention to me anymore, so I tricked myself into thinking you’d never notice.”
“Do you still love me?”
“What? Of course I do! It's just that we- you know we've lost touch over the years and got stuck in our routine. Not that there's anything wrong with that. We've had a good life and love together.”
“That’s true enough and I could’ve certainly tried harder then, we both could’ve. So why don’t we try harder now? Mind you, this doesn’t let you off the hook. You shouldn’t of kept this a secret from me.
"I know. You're right. I'm so sorry," she said hanging her head.
"But...I want us to have a chance at having the love and excitement we should’ve all these years. Besides this could be a interesting retirement project. What do you say, need a new partner? You’ll have to explain to me how all this works.”
“You were always my partner,” she said kissing him. But I’ll have the girls prepare a welcome abroad presentation."
