By Jem Morgenstern
The music began and the audience’s quivers of anticipation settled. Their bodies gave into the hum of the cello, letting it fill their pores with the scent of vibrating spruce and maple. While Scott’s ears followed the melodies, his eyes wandered the aisles of the music hall: stopping to memorize every seated figure, taking advantage of the music’s sensory captivation, familiarizing himself with their bodies and the assumed identities he could yield from their appearance. There was a woman in her mid-forties, who wore a midnight blue cotton blouse with an imperial collar that was a close-enough match to the sapphire studs she wore in the holes in her ears. Her hair was slicked back into a neatly wound bun that sat just below the centerpoint of where a crown would sit. For all he knew, she wasn’t wearing any pants; he could only see the portion of her body above her shoulder blades. She either came alone or wasn’t close to the ones she came with. If she did come with others and they were the audience members sitting next to her, they weren’t emotionally close. If she did come with others and they were elsewhere in the pool of bodies, they were simply not within a personal proximity of physical distance. She and the bodies surrounding her - together - did not radiate a feeling of warmth, like most friends do when they are sharing an experience within a personal proximity. There was a man in his early thirties, who wore an outfit that (in Scott’s opinion) was too casual for this event. This judgement was, of course, only made from the pieces of the outfit that Scott could see, which was all from the shoulder blades and above. For all he knew, he could have been wearing very fancy pants. However, in this instance of reaching a conclusion without having been provided all necessary evidence to reach a definite determination, Scott was correct; the man in his early thirties was dressed in an outfit that was too casual for this event. The man in his early thirties was not wearing very fancy pants. This man’s attendance was mandated by the other man in his early thirties, who was sitting next to him. This other man wore an outfit that was entirely reasonable for this event. This led Scott to have a more favorable opinion of the other man than the one that the other man brought with him. Scott decided that, if he were to ever interact with the two men in their early thirties, he would appear amiable towards both, but his internal gratitude would very much be shifted towards the other one. There was a man wearing a denim button-up and ornate brass earrings. After first landing on a mostly negative opinion of this man’s choice of attire, Scott’s opinion shifted towards an applauding appraisal. Throughout the four hour performance, the denim-clad man continuously captured Scott’s attention. The scent of his personality was magnetic. Even halfway through, when everyone began squeezing their legs together and sweating due to straining their internal controls, which is a scene that would generally break his intense optical invasion, Scott’s eyes were locked onto the man in denim. While (nearly) everyone else shook in their seats, the man in denim remained steady and intent on the performance - his stillness in the shifting sea of bodies made it even more difficult for Scott to look away. He found the man after the performance.
The music began and the audience’s quivers of anticipation settled. Their bodies gave into the hum of the cello, letting it fill their pores with the scent of vibrating spruce and maple. While Scott’s ears followed the melodies, his eyes wandered the aisles of the music hall: stopping to memorize every seated figure, taking advantage of the music’s sensory captivation, familiarizing himself with their bodies and the assumed identities he could yield from their appearance. There was a woman in her mid-forties, who wore a midnight blue cotton blouse with an imperial collar that was a close-enough match to the sapphire studs she wore in the holes in her ears. Her hair was slicked back into a neatly wound bun that sat just below the centerpoint of where a crown would sit. For all he knew, she wasn’t wearing any pants; he could only see the portion of her body above her shoulder blades. She either came alone or wasn’t close to the ones she came with. If she did come with others and they were the audience members sitting next to her, they weren’t emotionally close. If she did come with others and they were elsewhere in the pool of bodies, they were simply not within a personal proximity of physical distance. She and the bodies surrounding her - together - did not radiate a feeling of warmth, like most friends do when they are sharing an experience within a personal proximity. There was a man in his early thirties, who wore an outfit that (in Scott’s opinion) was too casual for this event. This judgement was, of course, only made from the pieces of the outfit that Scott could see, which was all from the shoulder blades and above. For all he knew, he could have been wearing very fancy pants. However, in this instance of reaching a conclusion without having been provided all necessary evidence to reach a definite determination, Scott was correct; the man in his early thirties was dressed in an outfit that was too casual for this event. The man in his early thirties was not wearing very fancy pants. This man’s attendance was mandated by the other man in his early thirties, who was sitting next to him. This other man wore an outfit that was entirely reasonable for this event. This led Scott to have a more favorable opinion of the other man than the one that the other man brought with him. Scott decided that, if he were to ever interact with the two men in their early thirties, he would appear amiable towards both, but his internal gratitude would very much be shifted towards the other one. There was a man wearing a denim button-up and ornate brass earrings. After first landing on a mostly negative opinion of this man’s choice of attire, Scott’s opinion shifted towards an applauding appraisal. Throughout the four hour performance, the denim-clad man continuously captured Scott’s attention. The scent of his personality was magnetic. Even halfway through, when everyone began squeezing their legs together and sweating due to straining their internal controls, which is a scene that would generally break his intense optical invasion, Scott’s eyes were locked onto the man in denim. While (nearly) everyone else shook in their seats, the man in denim remained steady and intent on the performance - his stillness in the shifting sea of bodies made it even more difficult for Scott to look away. He found the man after the performance.
Three days later, the man in denim can now be called Daniel. Daniel’s desk is cluttered, with an indiscernible but apparent organizational system. Its surface is stained by droplets of ink that were ignored for too long. Some of the spots could probably be cleaned away, if Daniel cared enough to do so, but he did not care enough to do so. They are tangled together on the bed, nesting their bodies together like two spoons. Scott has been waiting for Daniel, whose arms are tightly wound around his body, to wake up. He doesn’t want to move, because he doesn’t want to wake Daniel up before he’s ready. While he waits, he clings onto the intimacy of the moment and stares at the desk, which he now feels he has become more familiar with than his own. Scott, like most people in this city, rarely used his desk. He used it most often for leaning on, while staring out the window above it. On occasion, he would pull his journal from beneath his bed to write about the scenes outside and his recent obsessions. Those occasions were infrequent. While writing in that journal, he would most often sit at his kitchen table. He didn’t like to spend too much time in his bedroom, the room in which his desk is located, despite its welcoming warmth. He could never place the source, but there was something in his bedroom that he described to himself as maddening. He spends as little time in his bedroom as possible. Daniel, however, spends an obscene amount of time in his bedroom and, unlike most people in this city, used his desk almost daily.
Three more days later, Scott is sitting in his bedroom at his desk with his journal of obsessions open to a blank page.The subtle warmth of the beige walls, deep red blankets, Eastern Red Cedar desk, and African Rosewood bed frame endow the room with a welcoming glow. The complex floral carvings in the sideboard of the frame, the cleanliness, and the well-kept collection of friendly letters suggest gentility and a kind femininity. He presses the tip of a pen against the paper and writes about the window, the view from the window, the cravings the window instilled. Above the desk, a window offers a longing temptation to strip the exceedingly lavish decor from the exterior and interior walls of The Property. Above the bed, a mirror reflects the window’s view, embedding an obsession with The Family’s wealth. His journal reflects that obsession. He has compiled every notable detail he has been able to ensare from his view of the massive estate. The lanterns in The Property’s gardens were illuminated, as the the city’s face was turned away from the sun, highlighting the immensity of their gardens, acting as another burdening indication of The Family’s excessive prosperity. The dawn brought an immemorable sunset with dusty browns and fading blues. Crickets scraped their instrumental wings together. As traffic dissipated, its bellowing was replaced by the sound of wind in leaves. In the dim garden lights, Scott could see a figure. The Gardener was still working: trimming the rose bushes, plucking blades of grass the mower missed, inspecting every other detail of the sprawling yards to make sure everything was as perfect as The Family wanted it to be. This gardener, Scott realized, knew every immaculate crevice on The Property. The longing temptation to strip the wealth from The Family’s walls, floors, drawers, ceilings, pockets, knuckles, bushes, fridges, doors, and closets became something more. After this realization, Scott began to stitch together a plan.
From his window, he watched The Gardener. He absorbed every detail that could possibly be significant. Scott familiarized himself completely with The Gardener’s work. The daisies were always kept at an even number - if one grew, one would have to be chopped; if one died unexpectedly, another one would have to be sacrificed. The Northeast lawn was mowed on Tuesdays, the Southwest on Wednesdays, the Southeast on Thursdays, and there was no grass in the Northwest portion of the gardens. The rose bushes were trimmed obsessively. Sandpaper was used to scratch off the smallest flaws. Their height was kept perfectly aligned with the bottom of the window above them. The Gardener would often spend dozens of minutes staring at the border between rose and window to ensure the alignment was perfect, Scott thought. That staring, however, revealed itself to be something else. Weeks into his spying, Scott bought binoculars. Spying with the use of only his eyes had been difficult. Because of his frugal tendencies, he attempted to make it work, but it had become enough of a hinderance that he decided the use of additional tools would be beneficial. While considering the purchasing of binoculars, he also had a thought questioning his need for all the wealth of The Property. Scott, as indicated by the use of the word ‘frugal’ not so long ago, doesn’t spend a lot of money. He makes enough money to meet all his needs. He makes enough money to build an admirable amount of savings. He doesn’t need more money. This sparked a self-discovery session in which Scott analyzed his cravings. Eventually, he settled on this rationalization: he feels as though he could never have enough money to feel confident he could make-do in an extreme crisis and he feels deeply unsettled by that fact, so acquiring a grotesque amount of money would allow him to feel comfortable about his chances of making it through an extreme crisis, therefore, he would never have to worry about anything reliant on his monetary resources again and he could be truly happy. He felt good about buying the binoculars. With those binoculars, while watching The Gardener stare at the rose bush alignment, he noticed a longing expression. This expression made it clear that The Gardener wasn’t staring at the rose bush alignment. He was longing for whatever it was he could see through the window. He was obsessively desperate. Scott knew this could be used to his own advantage. This could be his key to recruiting The Gardener.