The ExhibitionistCathy McCaskill
Gary Hobson had prayed all the way home that his wife would be at home. He drove home in absolute silence from the construction site of their fourth McGinty's Bistro in upper Chicago. He knew that Marissa would not be home on this Tuesday or on any other Tuesday. Her obsession with her new lover had transformed her.
He despised the care and concern that she poured into photography. Photography was the only lover who performed at optimum level every time. It always satisfied her and was never too tired, too distracted or just not up for the job. The right thing to do was to be happy that photography gave her a creative outlet. Gary had confessed to his Lord that he envied the time she spent with it and contemplated a way to murder his competition once and for all.
Marissa no longer worked in their first bistro. The second miscarriage had decimated her physically. He knew that his son would die the day before it happened. Baby Gary Hobson, Junior's obituary had been in the paper and there was nothing anyone could do to save him. The special paper which heralded the events of the next day stopped coming that tragic morning. The orange and white tabby vanished with it. Gary had played the strong Christian husband, but he now understood why the Apostle Paul intimated that you are closest to God when you are angry with Him. Gary knew that Paul was right because the presence of God had unhurriedly melted his anger into thankfulness for Marissa's life.
If they never saw another child in this lifetime it was fine by him. He just needed to know that his wife was with him. Being one flesh with Marissa was the main thing. Together they had endured the miscarriages and the polite smiles and the obligatory nods of family and friends who did not know want to say beyond tired platitudes.
As a red faced eager newly wed, Gary thought that love was a risk and a high stakes crap shoot at best. Being divorced on his third anniversary by his predatory first wife had given him that jaded view. Five years down the road he knew love during adversity was addictive. Marissa anticipated and understood his moments of maturity and childishness and yet she loved him. Just knowing that she held him accountable to do the right thing was like a high.
"To whom much is given. Much is required" was his wife's favorite scripture verse. She was compassionate and yet unmoving in her beliefs.
Gary unlocked and opened the oak kitchen door and shivered. The air was cold. The summer day had started with a record high temperature and then dipped into the low forties by nightfall. Gary adjusted the temperature gage on the wall near the door. A clump of the reddish brown clay from the construction site landed on the pale gold wall. Gary grimaced and wiped the wall clean with the sleeve of his jacket. Gary washed his mud stained hands in the stainless steel double sink and dried them on his black jeans. He opened the refrigerator and decided to wait to eat until Marissa came home no matter how late.
Gary plopped on to the bed and stared at the mauve ceiling. He ached to be with his wife. He stood and dropped each article of his dusty clothing on the floor near the taupe suede boudoir chair. He thought a cold shower would help him. It had been over two weeks since they had been intimate. He blamed photography for being forced to abstain. In the shower, he contemplated how to eliminate his rival. Crushing it under the tires of the SUV, placing it in the dishwasher, and letting it drown in the washing machine were his favorite methods of elimination. Gary laughed aloud at the image of the digital camera broiling on the gas grill. Gary heard the familiar tap of Marissa's high heels on the tile floor.
"Honey, how was your day?" asked Marissa opening the shower enclosure's tempered glass door. Gary saw the digital interloper hanging from the black strap around her neck.
"Hey there beautiful. The place's going up just fine. Believe it or not we're on schedule. Come on in. The water's fine. Come on baby. We haven't been together in months," begged Gary.
"I know honey. I've missed you too. But just let me show you this one shot of Tony. The lighting bouncing of his torso, his expression…it's all so so…." Marissa searched for the right word.
"Perfect. Tony the Hunk's s cute little expression on his cute little face and his perfectly chiseled ebony body is so so so perfect. Pardon me I need to hurl and I don't want it splashing onto your lover, Mr. Kodak," said Gary angrily. He slammed the shower door and turned up the shower head to full throttle. She thought she heard him curse.
Marissa got the message. "Tonight you'll have to stay in your case Mr. Kodak. Mr. Hobson has first priority," joked Marissa to herself. She hurried and showered in the guest bathroom. Marissa slipped between the cool Egyptian cotton sheets and left their bedroom bathed in darkness. Although photography had taught her to appreciate the interplay of light and shadows she felt revived in the darkness. It was like going home. She had only been blessed with sight for a little more than a year.
Gary could hear his wife giggling as he fumbled for the light switch.
"Don't tell me you're laughing with me and not laughing at me cause I ain't buying." said Gary groping and feeling his way towards the bed. "I know you have me drag this furniture around every few days in this mall of a bedroom to keep me disoriented," smirked Gary. Marissa giggled again.
"You're the one who wanted this house because of the huge bedrooms," laughed Marissa.
"What else could I do when my loving mother-in-law stops by on our honeymoon night to say "Mr. Hobson, sugar if you ever find that you can no longer feed or cloth my little darling daughter please bring her back home. Where we can do just that," said Gary as he made it to their bed. He felt his wife's keen jaw line and traced his finger along her lips and kissed her deeply.
"I love you Gary. Nothing or no one can replace you in my life," whispered his wife.
"I love you and need you Marissa. I need to be you lover tonight." replied Gary echoing the sentiment.
"And I need to be yours," said Marissa returning his kiss.
Chapter 2 – The Viewing
Gary woke to the comforting smell of brewed coffee. He wrapped his silk black robe around his masculine body. He ran his hands through his hair. He enjoyed the feel of the taupe Berber carpet against his bare feet.
He strolled into the den and admired his slender beautiful wife arranging her photographs. There was a sea of them on the cherry desk. She frowned at some and smiled contently at others.
"Good morning, Sunshine" said Gary kissing her on the back of the neck and wrapping his arms around her slender waist.
"Good morning, Mr. Hobson." She said letting a photograph drop to the desk and returned the kiss.
"You know I never get tired of watching you smile" commented Gary looking at the fallen photo. His anger flared.
"I never should have agreed to this. Here you are as brazen as you please deciding which pictures of which….. guys to use in your exhibition next week. You would have been arrested a couple of decades ago for doing this sort of lewd thing," fumed Gary smugly.
"You would have been arrested for marrying a black woman a couple of decades ago and for doing that sort of thing," said Marissa harshly pointing toward their open bedroom door. "These are professional models. Not one photograph will portray any lewdness. I resent your implying otherwise. The only thing lewd in this room is your mind. I love you Gary, but you don't own me. That kind of ownership ended officially at least a few decades ago give or take a few years." Marissa's anger was building with each word.
"I'm the one who is treated like a discarded tramp. You left me, your husband in bed to look at ……these pictures. I'm sick of talking about it….do what you will, you're an adult," stated Gary coldly and walked out of the room.
The Hobsons ate in a self-imposed silence. Neither was willing to make the first step to repair the damage nor stop the hemorrhaging.
Chapter 3 – Wednesday Evening
Gary felt guilt nibbling at his thoughts. His guilt was patient and yet it's appetite quickly became ravenous. His every thought forced him to think of Marissa. He envisioned her delighted and traumatized; dressed in a fur coat and partially clothed. In every scenario Gary was guilty of letting the sun go down on their anger. They both knew better and they both were suffering from their arrogance and rebellious spirit. Late that afternoon Gary confessed and gave up the battle. He went to three florists searching for the perfect gift. He had found them just before the owner closed. He drove home admiring them as they rested on the front seat of the SUV. He walked into the kitchen from the garage. Gary placed the large bouquet of roses of every color imaginable in the Waterford vase. He added the dried powder to prolong their beauty to the tepid water. Gary took the small white card that the florist had placed in the bouquet from the plastic transparent fork like holder. He scrawled, "I am an idiot, but please love me anyway – Gary." Gary picked up the vase in his muddy hands and placed the peace offering in the middle of the teak kitchen table. He sloppily washed his hands and dried them on his blue jeans. Gary turned to look at the fragrant roses once more and saw the trail of mud from the door to the sink. He tool off his jacket, wet it in the sink and mopped up the evidence. He smirked and heard the garage door open as Marissa's black and blue Viper pulled into the attached garage. Gary stuffed his jacket into the stainless steel trash compactor. He ran to the bathroom.
"Sugar where are you? We need to make amends," called out Marissa. She pulled the large bouquet of roses of every imaginable color from behind her back. She strolled into their bedroom and slipped off her red high heels.
She pulled back the comforter and the top sheet and placed the two dozen roses on Gary's pillow. She hoped her husband would get both messages. She pulled a sheet of stationary from her Chippendale desk and wrote neatly, "I am idiot, but please don't stop loving me – your wife." Marissa folded the note into a tent and tucked it into the bouquet. She could hear Gary singing in the shower. She took out Gary's favorite black sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of her red bikini panties and showered in the guest bathroom.
Gary heard Marissa in the guest shower and started to join her but he wanted them to clear the air first. He threw on his terry cloth robe and ordered two large pizzas with all of their favorite toppings. He turned on the CD player in the den eagerly awaiting his bride from the shower. Marissa stuck her head into the den.
"Gary have you been in our bedroom yet? If you haven't then you need to take a look on our bed," purred Marissa.
"If you say so honey, I need you to go the kitchen and wait for me there." said Gary clearly excited by her beauty. He thought he heard Marissa's laughter from the kitchen as he rounded the corner to their bedroom. Gary laughed as he picked up the roses and read the note from his wife. They both walked into the corridor holding their bouquets.
They spent two hours apologizing, eating and snuggling together. Gary gave Marissa that look and they held each other hands and prepared to go to bed. Gary heard the door bell ring. He kissed his wife and went to the door.
"Hey, Mr. Hobson, ask your wife if we may come in. We have a great idea," said the men. Gary opened the door a few inches and stuck his head out. He rolled his eyes as he saw Marissa's band of merry men models.
"Look guys Marissa's in bed and we've had a long day. I'll ask her to call you in the morning. Thanks," stated Gary flatly.
"Gary. It'll just take a moment. I promise. They may have an idea for the exhibition. Just a few minutes," Marissa smiled and opened the door. The seven men spilled into the living room each seeking his wife's attention. Gary was slowly pushed into the shadows of the hallway. The tallest and most rugged man, Tony, sauntered down the hallway into their den, picked up the camera and carried the black portfolio full of photographs out of the room. Gary wondered how this mass of ebony muscles knew the way to their den, the location of the portfolio and camera. Gary defiantly stepped into the man's path. "Hey, man…Tracy is it? How did you know the way to our den?" demanded Gary.
"Marissa told me. What's up with you man? You insecure of something? Or maybe its jealousy? I don't blame you for that under the circumstances," smirked Tony as he brushed Gary's hand away from his shoulder. Both listened to Marissa's giggling with the others. Gary blushed and felt embarrassed by the accuracy of the pompous man's words.
By the time Gary and Tony reached his wife and the others three of them had stripped off their shirts and had covered their muscular chests with oil and Marissa was photographing them with the shutter clicking rapidly.
Gary brushed past Tony as he unbuttoned his shirt and reached for the oil. Gary turned up the music in their bedroom and locked the door.
"Good Night guys drive carefully. Thanks for the great ideas," Marisa locked the door and flicked off the porch lights. The cherry grandfather's chimed thirteen times. Walking into their bedroom Marissa covered her snoring husband with the blanket and slipped into bed next to him. She mentally listed all the things she needed to do over the next three days. She was committed to rest on Sunday.
Chapter 4 Thursday - Sunday
The den became command central over the next three days. Gary left trays of food for Marissa and sat them outside of the locked door. His wife has a willing prisoner of Mr. Kodak and Mr. Perfection. The shredder hummed as reject photos were grinded into oblivion. Gary either heard his wife humming or cursing.
"Wake up Gary. It's time for worship and we're going to be late if we don't hurry. I hate being late to St. Matthew's and having to perch on the last pew. Gary wake up come on please," said Marissa shaking his arm.
"You look beautiful. I can't believe you're dressed and ready to go." Gary jumped from the bed and into his navy blue suit which Marissa had left in the bathroom for him.
Chapter 5 – The Exhibition
The gallery was packed with people. Critics and the public intermingled. Conversations bounced off the walls. Whispered conversations danced between husbands and wives and business partners preparing to purchase the photographs buzzed about. Gary served as supportive husband and shrewd negotiator for his wife.
Gary had to admit that none of the photographs were what he expected. He had half thought in his jealousy that they might suggest or show the anatomical features of the male models. Most of the photographs featured the models a washed in either a bright beam of or they were draped in shadows. Gary thought the exhibit celebrated God's skill in crafting his creature from the dust. One of his favorites captured the dusty palm of a man. The calluses of the rugged hand were deep and looked hard earned and blistered. Another which touched him was of Tony, although his face was covered in blinding beams of white light. Gary knew it by it's unrestrained power and the flawless ebony skin. The work captured the man on his knees in prayer clutching a rosary. The long beaded chain from it dangled from out of his stretched left hand.
Another featured the yellow skin of Matthew. His head was bowed and light crisscrossed his face. A small puddle of tears lay on the table before him. Two tears were caught as they splashed against the black table top. The entire exhibit was moving. The only photograph of a woman was in the right corner of the large gallery. The clasped hands of the demure woman rested upon her the collarless short sleeved crisp gown covering her expansive abdomen were in bright light as well as the pool of water that had formed on the tile floor upon which she stood. The light above it was too low thought Gary. The placard read, The Second. The Third is a Question Mark" Gary wondered to himself and fought back the painful possibility. He needed to distance himself from it. He was too close in physical proximity to the art and too close emotionally. Gary thought about turning off the light which illuminated it, but he couldn't find the courage. He forced his mind to think of other less important things. Tonight was his wife's and he would not spoil it for her no matter what.
Marissa had sacrificed too much on this exhibition. She did not care about the profit, but Gary wanted her to build a nest egg for herself. Their jointly owned seven bistros were profitable. He wanted her to keep the every dime of the proceeds from her hard work. Gary nodded knowingly as Marissa smiled for a photo from one of the local photographers' magazines. Marissa stood in front of the largest veiled work only the silver placard was not covered by the black velvet drape. The card read, The Exhibitionist a Study in Progress. Gary moved to his wife's side. One of the wealthy husbands placed a check into Gary's hands and smiled gratefully.
Marissa gave Gary a quick kiss on the lips and gave him a card onto which she had written a brief announcement for him to read to the audience.
She gently pushed him toward the crowd.
"First we want to thank you for coming. My talented wife has given me the honor of revealing this last piece. Gary pulled the cord and the audience "ohhhed" and "aaahhed".
The six foot life size photograph was in black and white. A well built man reclined on silk sheets. The muscular chest glistened in the steam of lights from an unseen source. His clasped hands rested against his chest modestly. A beam of silver light reflected from his wedding band. His head was turned to an empty pillow. His face was covered by the shadows leaving only his chin and prominent nose visible. His legs were crossed at the ankle. and his taunt thigh and calf muscles were impressive under the fabric of the knee length silk robe. Gary thought that the body was Jose's Marissa's professional catwalk model. Gary envied the man's well toned body. He knew that it was easier to maintain a body like that when you could afford to live in the gym and age was on your side. Gary's only exercise was helping the construction crew out every now and again. Gary saw the small heart shaped red tattoo. It was the only item in color on the photograph. Inside the small henna tattoo was the letter M. Gary blushed crimson in recognition. He grabbed Marissa and kissed her deeply. The audience applauded and tapped their crystal flutes asking for more. Gary was happy to oblige them.
"I snapped it while you slept Saturday night," whispered Marissa to her husband. "Most of the photographs are of you. I hope you don't mind. I love you Gary Hobson."
"And I you Marissa Hobson." smiled Gary.
The End
