Jigsaw

“That is so annoying,” said Neil, standing over the table. Two sweet creases had formed on his smooth brow on his round face.

“Oh, nice work,” Kim passing stopped beside him. She butted his shoulder with her head. Waved one arm of her loose black wool cardigan over the jigsaw. “It’s a cool picture,” she said.

“Yeh,” said Neil. He lifted the cover of the box; moved a teatowel that lay on the table beside it; glanced to the floor.

“Something missing?” said Kim.

“So annoying,” said Neil. He dropped to his hunkers and scanned the ground.

“That’s a shame. Cool picture though. It’s nice,” said Kim. She held the edge of the table in her hand.

“Sure of course it’s nice,” said Neil rising, but still looking on the floor, he looked up. “Isn’t it beautiful, beautiful Ireland,” he said.

“’Beautiful, beautiful Ireland’,” smiled Kim. “So where’s your bit of forest?”

“Bah,” said Neil.

“Where did you open it?” asked Kim.

“In here,” he said. “Here.”

“You’ll find it.” Kim looked at him disapprovingly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” said Neil.

“Well, anyways…” said Kim, “I’m hungry. I’m gonna make a sandwich.”

Neil looked around on the table. He tapped stiff-fingered its wooden surface. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t in the box?” he said. “Kinda thing drives me nuts.” Then, “Yes.” And swinging towards Kim as though just seeing her, “Yes. Food. I guess.”

“Maybe you should be getting ready?” Kim looked at him with dark eyes.

Neil inhaled and waved his hands in front of him dismissively. “No,” he said. “Food first. Otherwise… I’ll probably get ketchup all over my suit or something.”

Kim pursed her lips in the momentary pleasure of this tiny ordeal. Reflected light flashed from her glasses. “Yes, well, you need to get a move on. It’s 2:30. You’ll miss the next bus and then you’ll be rushing and you’ll arrive in all sweaty.”

Neil shook his head again. Then he stopped looking. He willed himself to summon internal calm. “Interviews suck,” he said.

“Ya, well… this is a big one.” Kims eyes were serious.

Later, Neil stood by the door in a dark grey suit. Kim gave one of his lapels a playful pull. She looked into his cold, light-blue eyes, lifted a hand to his face and gently stroked his cheek with the back of her middle finger. “Good luck,” she said. She kissed him neatly on the lips.

After he was gone, she walked back to the table and looked down at the jigsaw. Standing there, looking down, she dug her hand into the tight front pocket of her jeans. She closed her fist around the hard-edged, thin cardboard piece. She took it from her pocket and held the dark green of it low in front of her, examining it as though it were a message.

Kim smiled to herself, wrinkling her lips and placed the piece onto her tongue. She moved to the small table in the corner where the radio was. Turned it on. Music and the voice of Ella Fitzgerald. Cool and precise.

Kim walked from the living area to the door of kitchen. She chewed the cardboard while she walked, scrunching her face, tasting the sour sharpness of the paper. She lifted an arm and clasped the top of the door. She hung there, swinging, her arm supporting her weight.

She weaved and swayed to the time of music.

Jigsaw © 2017 Fergus Deffely