“Hey, Ralph… do you see that? It’s… it’s from Egypt.”

Wendy stands beside a glass display case, pointing at a golden ancient Egyptian sculpture. Ralph nods, but his eyes drift to a speck on the polished museum floor.

“Yeah… yeah… it’s… ugh… nice. Nice.”

He stares at the speck as his shoe unconsciously inches toward it.

Wendy squeezes his hand and pulls him back.

“Honey… it’s your day off. Stop worrying about the specks.”

Ralph smiles. “You know… it’s just… you never stop noticing dirt when you’re a janitor.”

“I know. I know… that’s why I love you. You’re my Mr. Clean.”

Ralph smiles to himself and closes his eyes so Wendy can’t see him roll them. She grabs him by the arm and walks forward.

“C’mon… let’s… let’s see more art.”

Wendy pulls him along. Midstep, Ralph attempts to swipe at the dirt with his shoe but misses. He keeps looking over his shoulder until Wendy gently turns his chin toward her.

“You know, honey… I always thought I’d be a painter who lived in Italy. I just… just love how artists really capture the moment.”

She twirls, her skirt catching a breeze, and leans her head back to take in the atmosphere. Then she notices Ralph looking toward a trash can, where a piece of paper hangs halfway out.

Her smile fades.

“Ralph…”

She hurries over, takes his arm, and rests her head against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of his Old Spice aftershave.

“Sorry,” Ralph mutters and wipes his nose with his sleeve. He takes a few steps forward then stops.

Under a display light sits a piece of modern art. Black Sharpie. Sharp edges. And an oval with two smaller circles on either side.

People crowd around it, nodding thoughtfully. One woman tilts her head. A man leans forward, hands clasped behind his back, apparently finding meaning in the meaningless.

But Ralph…

Ralph presses his thumb into his index finger until the nail turns pink.

His throat tightens. He swallows, then swallows again.

“Oh, honey! Do you see that? This is from the hot new artist, Flamingo!”

Wendy hurries toward the display like a cow following a UFO tractor beam.

But Ralph stays where he is and adjusts his glasses.

His fingers curl into fists. A muscle jumps in his jaw.

Slowly, he closes his eyes.

The museum fades, replaced by a flickering memory.

He’s in the high school locker room, wearing his maintenance blues.

The boys are crowded around a stall, but scatter when Ralph’s ex-Marine boss, Gary, comes waddling in. He wears a black T-shirt and blue jeans and carries a plunger like a weapon.

“Get out of here!” Gary barks.

The boys scatter. Gary points at Ralph.

“Open it.”

Ralph hesitates, then pulls the stall door open.

That’s when they see it.

Graffiti spreads across the stall like veins branching through a leaf, leading to a central drawing: a larger-than-life oval with two smaller circles on one side, a slit, and a half circle on top.

Gary throws his plunger down so hard it bounces back up.

“These fuckin’ kids, drawing dicks. Damn it… Ralph… clean it up.”

Ralph’s eyes widen.

Clean it up…

Spit flies from Gary’s mouth.

“Clean it up!”

Gary’s face turns red, then purple.

Clean it up.

The drawing grows larger.

Ralph shrinks.

“CLEAN. IT. UP.”

Gary’s face seems to swell, his mouth opening wider with every word. Ralph raises his hands, palms out, his shoulders curling inward as if he’s bracing for a blow.

“Clean it up…”

“Honey… HONEY!”

Ralph jerks.

He opens his eyes one at a time. For a moment, he doesn’t know where he is.

The museum lights hum overhead.

He wipes his face with his palm. It’s damp. He rubs it against his trousers before adjusting his glasses.

“Jeez, Ralphie, I thought I lost you there. You were totally zoned out. Must have felt connected to that piece, huh?”

Ralph looks at the artwork, then quickly at Wendy.

His fingers uncurl, one at a time.

“What do you think they call it?” she asks.

Ralph studies the piece.

“The Horror.”

Please like, comment, share, and tell me what you think! 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT of my book Letters From Jasper.  It means the world. And if you’re looking for a new read and enjoy my writing, I’d be honored is you considered reading, Letters From Jasper.

 

PLOT:A dying father hits the road to reconnect with his estranged son, but things take a turn when they get involved in a robbery. 

Perfect for anyone who likes humor and heart reads or has ever had a dead parent.  Available on Kindle Unlimited, Harcover, or Paperback. Here it is: Amazon.com: Letters From Jasper eBook : Winn, Anthony: Kindle Store

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