An Ordinary Man, Beatrix Rowland

An Ordinary Man

Steve did all of his thinking in the shower. Sadly for him, he preferred taking baths so he rarely got much thinking done. His life was one of an ordinary man. He wasn’t very smart but he wasn’t quite the idiot. The great blue marble that he lived on did not care very much for him, nor he it. Such was the life of this ordinary man. He lived in a house of a moderate size with a wife of a moderate size. She was the sort of woman who reminded Steve of a cheese grater: big, boxy, and possessing the uncanny ability to grate on his nerves. Her name was Helen and her two hobbies were vacuuming in the middle of the night and improving the self-esteem of plants. Steve called her a gardener but she preferred “plant therapist” because she thought it had more class. Now Steve and Helen had been married for five years and during that time each realized how boring their partner was. One day, after Steve saw the water bill, he decided to forgo his customary fourth bath of the day and take a shower. And during that shower he started to think, as he could not help but do, and he thought about his marriage. When thinking of his blessed union the image of an open fridge appeared and brought up memories of the only thing he and his wife had in common: food. His fridge always seemed to be fully stocked on Monday with enough food for a week but then Sunday would roll around and she would have to go grocery shopping. How odd was it that the food would magically run out by Saturday night? Steve wondered, while reaching for the soap. What could she possibly be doing at the grocery store once a week? Shopping? But that didn’t make any sense! Steve let out an exasperated sigh and said out loud, “A person doesn’t just go to a grocery store to shop! She must be doing something else while she is there!” Now Steve hadn’t been to the grocery store in months and as he wracked his brain trying to think of what his wife was doing there, he suddenly remembered something. His wife had thanked the bag boy after getting her groceries! As he rinsed the soap from his hair, Steve had two thoughts: either his wife was

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eating all the food and getting fat or she was having an affair. He hadn’t yet decided which was worse. He reached for the shower knobs and turned the water off. He braced himself for the cold as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. He heard the clatter of keys and the footsteps of his wife arriving home from work. A sudden image of her at the grocery store smiling and coyly waving fruits at the bag boy appeared in his mind. As he got dressed he became angrier and angrier. Steve was so upset that it took him twenty minutes to find the appropriate outfit to wear downstairs. As he marched into the kitchen he saw her, dressed in brown from head to toe and surrounded by foliage. His wife always wore brown because she said it had a more soothing effect on the plants. She was also convinced that it would help them grow because it reminded them of their origins. Helen was a plant therapist deluded about the power she had over her plants. She would tell Steve when he asked why the plants weren’t placed in the sunlight that, “she was the only light they needed to live.” Unsurprisingly, most of her plants were dead. Steve was living in a forest of dead plants. “Steve, do you think you can water the plants while I go to the dentist?” she called over her shoulder as she walked out the door. “I’ll be back at eight.” “What?” asked Steve. “Oh sure.” Steve opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass as he thought about his wife’s terrible teeth. Some of the worst ever seen according to his wife’s dentist. So bad that Helen had to go see him six times a week. Steve would never understand the world of medicine. What seemed like a perfectly normal set of teeth to him was in fact a hidden minefield. Now how would he handle Helen’s affair with the bag boy? He could confront her but then his wife would be given the chance to prove him wrong. He couldn’t take that risk. But Steve couldn’t focus. He needed to get away from this house filled with foliage and the images of his wife with bad teeth. He sulked around the house glaring for a full minute at every single

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potted plant. The thought of killing the plants flashed in his mind but since they were already halfway there, he decided a slow painful death under his wife’s care would be a better revenge. A gardening rake with a green handle caught his eye. It was the one he had given Helen just last Christmas. He could picture scratching the bag boy’s face while Helen watched in horror. He smiled, grabbed the miniature rake and ran towards the door, slamming it behind him but then slowed to a walk as soon as he saw his car. It was old, and rusty but he loved it. The bumper was half off the back and made a moaning noise as it dragged on the road behind him. He started the car and stomped the gas pedal to the floor, roaring away from his house at the breakneck speed of ten miles per hour which happened to be faster than Steve had ever driven before. He didn’t care about anything as he careened like a turtle through town thinking only of his wife with the bag boy until he saw it: the grocery store! That was where all his problems started but that was also where they would end. With its awful chirpy music and pastel colors that were aesthetically pleasing to the eye. How he hated those colors that were so pleasant. And the level of service reminded him of the perfect waiter: always ready to assist but not overbearing and constantly hovering. He hated that! Who else had quality service like that! He was turning into the neat, clean parking lot when he saw the automatic doors parting for his wife and her dentist. Perfect timing he thought as he clanked into a parking spot. I can follow her into the grocery store and collect all the evidence I need to convict her of her affair with the bag boy. He strutted confidently through the icy blast of grocery store air that drove into him. There she was, standing at the cheese display, sniffing the Camembert like a pro. A cheese grater would know best in the matters of cheese, he sneered. He scurried towards the oranges, ducking behind them but poking his head out every few seconds to see what she was buying. A thought suddenly occurred to him, would she flirt with her bag boy if her

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dentist were there? Was the dentist in on it? Were they close enough that she would tell him all of the sordid details of her love affair? He had to wait and see. “Ahem!” A sudden noise came from above as he saw a young woman looking down her nose at him. “Oh,” he gasped, “um…these oranges are top notch. Can’t you smell the ripe scent of…top notch?” Steve trailed off as he hurried away. He turned into a tiger on the hunt. As he rounded a diaper display he saw her buying wine at the cash register. With him. The Bag Boy. A song on the overhead speakers came on with a pounding base line and steady beat. His hands shook as he walked toward the cash register. He was ready for what was to come. He grabbed a bag of chips at the last minute and with his other hand felt in his pocket for the rake. “Hello Helen! Doctor Steinberg! I see you are in good health.” Steve smiled graciously at the dentist and gave an accusing glare to his wife. “Steve! What are you doing here?” Helen asked frantically. He knew it! He clearly had her in a fluster over the bag boy. She was backed up against the People Magazines, right where he wanted her. “I am just here to buy some chips,” Steve said, “I’m hungry.” “Oh, good” Helen spoke almost in a whisper, looking at the ground and refusing to meet his gaze while the dentist stood behind her looking solemn. He cut them in line just as the teller called “Next!” “Just these chips for me today” Steve replied. “Great. That will be $4:58.” Steve handed over the money and looked at the bag boy’s nametag. “Your name is Steve?” Steve asked. “Yes…that’s what the tag says,” the bag boy replied in a mocking tone as he dropped the chips into a paper bag. “Steve,” Steve said to himself whipping the rake out, “what a stupid name.”

Beatrix Rowland ’16

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