A Closet Full of Chaos

If you had wandered into James Orton’s apartment, you may not have seen the clutter at first. His front door, an elegant, clean brown door, opened into a little foyer with just enough room for his three pairs of shoes and a coat rack which held two coats. He liked having a pair of winter boots, a pair of running shoes, and a pair of walking shoes. James never went to social functions, so he didn’t need anything more formal than that. His two coats were neatly hung exactly ten inches from one another so their sleeves did not touch at the bottom. The foyer continued to a modest hall, and on either side were pictures of things James had seen in what seemed like a past life. There was the Grand Canyon, Yosemite National Park, and an assortment of international shots of nature. James never liked the fuss of travel, except for that brief period in his life… 

All the light wooden panels in the floor were scuff-free and shining. In the living room, a wide rug fitted precisely in the center of the room. There was a sectional on the right side which faced a TV on the left wall. A couple armchairs were on the far side of the room, leading into a small dining room with one round table with four chairs and a little kitchen. James’ bedroom was past a door on the right side of the living room, and the bathroom sat next to it. 

So in this immaculate apartment - in which not even a pillow was out of place, where was the clutter I promised you? 

One had only to look in a little locked room in the back corner of the apartment. It seemed to blend into the wall out of introspective shyness. If you had found the key, which James kept near his heart at all times, and turned the knob, you would find yourself privy to a vast collection of random objects all ill-fitting of overstuffed shelves and splayed out on the floor. The juxtaposition between the two realities of the apartment would have elicited a gasp out of even the most composed house guest, but James did not reveal the closet to anyone.

So it was on a cold, drizzly October morning - a Sunday, so the city awoke sluggishly, that James found himself in need of eggs and butter before breakfast. He shook long salt and pepper hair out of his face and rubbed sleepy blue eyes as he frowned at his fridge. Inside, things were neatly labeled and organized by color and size. Nowhere did he see a label saying “eggs” or “butter”. Seeing as he wanted pancakes, and was rather stiff about his choices, he grumbled something inaudible and slipped into a comfortable pair of gray sweatpants and a light sweater, being sure to grab his minimalist wallet and light keyring before heading out into the rain. 

As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, his breath misting before him and the rain pattering gently on the hood of his windbreaker, he did not notice the man who slipped in his building behind him, nor did that man notice James. A resemblance was shared between the two of them, of course, but when one had chosen to grow out his beard and was wearing a hat, appearances were muddled at best. 

This man made his way to James’ apartment and rang the doorbell. After receiving no response, he knocked thrice and said, “Hey, it’s me. You in there?”

Deciding it was best not to cause too much commotion early in the morning, this man pulled out his own jumble of keys and found the one corresponding to James’ apartment. Soon, he was wiping his boots on a precise rectangle of carpeted fabric which served as a doormat. He took off his shoes and made sure to place them near the shoe rack. Leaving his jacket on the rung, not ten inches apart from the others, he called, “James? Are you home?” 

The living room was bare, but he did spot the coffee cup on the kitchen counter. It was empty, and this man knew that James would never leave a cup out like this unless there had been an interruption to his usual clockwork-like routine. His eyes scoured the apartment and saw that nothing else was out of place. He took a peek in the bedroom and saw that the bed was neatly made. Deciding that nothing foul had occurred, he went back to the living room and used the out of place mug to make himself a cup of coffee. James had a fine espresso maker which did all sorts of drinks, and soon this man had a flat white, settled on the firm sectional, and turned on the TV.

After about half the drink had been sipped away, the front door opened and shut with no creaks and a satisfying thunk. James’ tenor-heavy voice said, “Hello? Who’s there?” 

“It’s me, you idiot. Did you forget I was coming over?” 

James appeared in the hall and smiled briefly. “Hey, Tommy. I thought you’d be here much later. Weren’t we supposed to get lunch?” 

“Yeah, but I got off work early last night and figured I’d swing by for some breakfast too. I’ll pay for lunch, by the way,” he added. “That way we’re even.” 

“I saw you didn’t put your jacket where I wanted you to,” said James. “Now your wet sleeve is hitting my winter coat and making it wet.” 

Tommy shook his head. “You’re not even gonna need that coat for another month, right?” 

“That’s not the point,” said James, putting his butter and eggs on the table. “Everything has its place, and when you don’t put things in their place-” 

“Things get messy, and when things get messy you get problems,” finished Tommy. “Yeah, I remember dad’s old quotes too, mate.” James just smirked and started preparing a double-batch of pancakes. “You’re a lot like him,” Tommy observed. “So ordered and all that. I think I take after mum.” 

“Mum wasn’t messy,” said James. 

“I’m not messy!” 

“Mm-hm.” 

Tommy took a gulp of coffee and said, “So how’s work been treating you?” 

“Good, good… It’s getting close to the end of the year, so people like to have their finances in order. How about you?” 

“Had a brutal case recently,” said Tommy. “Some kid got caught up in a gang and died in the initiation. Still haven’t found the other half of his body. Other than that, a few overdoses, a murder on Luxwood… nothing too out of the ordinary.” 

“We need to get out of this city,” said James. 

“I don’t know how,” said Tommy. “London’s always been home.” 

There was a point to this conversation James did not want to reach, so he diverted slightly. “So how’s Susan?” 

“Good… she’s just started that new job, so pretty stressful. Seems like she’s up half the night these days doing the paperwork.” 

“And how are John and Abby?” 

Chancing a sideways glance at his brother, who was whipping up batter, Tommy replied, “Good. John’s just started eighth grade, so he’s at that mature sort of age where he knows exactly what bothers Abby and how to bother her the most. Abby stays shut up in her room a lot, which we don’t like, but she’s at that age, you know.” 

“Mm.” 

There was a pause in which the only audible things in the apartment were the rain hitting the windows in the kitchen and the news anchor droning on about some international political disagreement. It wasn’t until the first pancake had been dropped into the pan that Tommy asked, “So… have you been going out recently?” 

James froze. “What?” 

“Like, have you been out to the bars, or…” 

“I’m almost forty, mate,” said James. “I don’t go out to bars like that anymore.” 

The pancake was flipped and began sizzling on the other side. Tommy finished his coffee nervously. “And… have you heard from-”

“No,” said James sharply. 

“Not at all? She hasn’t even-” 

“I said I haven’t,” said James. “So I haven’t. Not one text, call, or anything.” 

Tommy swept his eyes around the room as he stood up. “Well you’ve certainly done a good job cleaning out the apartment after she left. I can’t see one of her things around here.” 

“Yep,” said James. “How many pancakes do you want? Three?” 

“Four,” said Tommy, patting his slightly protruding belly. “Listen, we just feel-” 

“We?” repeated James. “Who’s we?” 

Tommy shifted in his seat. “Susan and I-” 

“Oh so now she’s concerned about me too? I’m fine,” snapped James. “I’m more than fine. I’m brilliant. I’ve got a good job, a good home. I don’t need anything - or anyone.” 

Standing up suddenly, Tommy said, “Look, this isn’t normal! All of this organization, this obsession with order. I mean this place barely looks lived in. I’d ask if you’re spending all your time at the pub, but I know that’s not true because you haven’t got any friends-” 

“Friends just create mess in your life,” said James. “In fact, that’s all people do. They just muck around and trudge through your neatly ordered stuff, pulling you away from what really matters.” He poured out another pancake and added, “They say an ordered home is the first step to an ordered mind.” 

“Do you really think that’s what people do?” asked Tommy. “Is that all I do?” 

“Course not,” said James, though his tone was tremulous. “Although you did put your jacket in the wrong place.” 

This little jab was enough to furrow Tommy’s brow in worry, but he did not speak again on the matter just yet. The pancakes were being produced at a quick pace, and it was only after the last one had been flipped that he said, “You know that dream we always had as kids?” 

“Which one?” James dreaded the answer.

“The one where we get out of the city and buy ourselves a nice big house up in the countryside, where there’s no neighbor in sight and we can spend all day just reading, or taking walks on the grounds. We used to say, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if we had grounds?’ Do you remember that, James?” 

“I remember.” 

Tommy walked over to his brother and said, “Dad left us a good bit of money, and I know you’ve got a lot saved up, just like me. We can make that dream happen today, if we wanted.” 

James flipped the pancake roughly and said, “Yeah?” 

“Yes, but do you remember the other part of the dream?” Tommy saw James’ eyes were imploring him to stop, but instead he finished, “We both had to be married. Two old brothers living together is like the beginnings of those horror shows you see on TV, where one goes batty and offs the other, or we’d be like the village idiots, we’d said. We need families, mate. We need to have wives and kids, and I’ve got that-” 

“Yes, who could forget.” 

“And you almost had it too,” said Tommy insistently. “Listen, I don’t want to beat a dead horse-” 

“Then don’t!” exclaimed James. “God, you’re always going on about this! I’ve moved on, can’t you see that?”

“Have you?” 

“I have. Now, eat your stupid pancakes.” 

They sat at the round table, and though the previous conversation was simmering in each of their minds, James successfully diverted the track again, this time to the North London Derby. Both brothers being adamant Hotspurs fans, they lamented in their recent 3-1 loss to Arsenal, complaining about the management. Tommy was sure the team needed a supporting piece for Kane outside of Son, who had not been good this season, but John believed the players were good enough and just needed better coaching. After they were done bemoaning the Spurs, they caught a bit of news which said that the markets would be trending downwards in the next week due to a supply chain crisis in the east. John, whose job it was to manage the money of wealthy people, listened with great intent, but soon shook his head. Tommy inquired about the news, and John gave some brief insight into why the supply chain was an inflated problem in this case, giving companies the ability to increase profits through price gouging while using it as a punching bag for any pointed questions. 

Once they were done with breakfast, John cleared the plates and slid them in the dishwasher, cleaning out the nonstick pan and soon leaving the kitchen as immaculate as it had been when Tommy first walked in. 

The brothers began discussing their distant relations, from whom they had not heard in some time. As their family had always been closer on the nuclear level, this did not concern them, but news of a second cousin getting into Stanford or publishing a book was always worth a mention and perhaps even a congratulatory card. 

Finally, the rain relented slightly to a wet mist which cast a drear over the streets below. As this was not unusual for London weather, particularly at this time of year, the brothers knew that lunch would not be canceled on account of it. 

“Right, let me get showered and ready, and I’ll meet you there,” said James. 

“Meet me there? Why on Earth would we do that, when I’m already here?” cried Tommy. “You want me to get in my car and drive all the way home-” 

“Oh, okay… Stay here, then. Just don’t come in the bathroom while I’m showering, okay?” 

“Mum used to have me change your diapers, mate,” said Tommy with a sly smile. “There’s nothing down there I haven’t seen.” 

“Well, some things change,” said James. 

“Not from what I’ve heard,” said Tommy, chuckling. 

James hit him with a pillow and grabbed some clothes from his bedroom before shutting the bathroom door. Tommy heard the water running and figured it would be a good time to take a better look around the apartment. The bedroom was bereft of any pictures and as sterile as a hospital. He meandered his way to the back corner and his eyes found the thin door. It shrunk away from all manners of discerning its existence, so it wasn’t until Tommy put his hand on it that he was even sure of its permanence. All the times he had been in his brother’s apartment, he had never seen this door before. 

He tried the handle and found it unrelenting. Most would have left it there, but he glanced at the bathroom on the other side of the living room and knew there was something important behind this door. He pulled out a pin from his keyring and began carefully picking the lock, a skill he had learned at University. Soon the final pin clicked, and the door gave way. 

Almost immediately, he found his feet covered by postcards. He stepped through and turned on the little light at the top of what had once been the pantry. 

Tommy’s jaw hung agape at the collection before him. There were teddy bears from Valentine’s Days past, gifts, pictures, snow globes… He remembered when his brother had enjoyed traveling, and he knew with whom he had enjoyed it. Her cheery face looked back at him from many frames on many shelves. It was almost impossible to move in this room without feeling something squish or crunch under his feet. He picked up a photograph he knew. It was of this cheery woman and James along with Tommy and Susan enjoying Christmas at a New England cottage. 

He did not hear the water stop, nor did he hear his brother run over across the living room. When James pulled him around and yelled, “What are you doing in there?” Tommy’s only reaction was deep, painful sadness.

“What’s all of this?” he asked quietly. “What is this, James?” 

James’ face turned to marble, freezing in deep guilt. He looked at the picture in Tommy’s hand and said, “I-I don’t know… After she-” he broke off, wiping his eyes. “After she left, I started to throw some things out, but then I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. So…”

“So you started putting everything in here,” finished Tommy. 

“I used to come in here every night,” whispered James. “I’d lay in that little pile of stuffed animals I bought for her because they still had her perfume in them…” 

“Really?” 

“Yes,” said James, his eyes fixed on them with utter horror at the words he was saying. “I still come back here… once in a while-” 

“James…” 

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I just don’t know how to change. I don’t know what to do with my life after her.” 

Tommy felt words stirring in his mind, a mixture of revulsion, pity, and sadness, but he chose not to use any, simply grabbing his brother, still sopping wet from the shower, and pulling him into a tight hug. As kids, they had only hugged rarely, not from dislike, but from a false sense of femininity associated with the gesture. Here, all veils were thrown off, and as Tommy squeezed James’ back, the water dripping from James’ hair mixed with the tears now dripping onto Tommy’s shoulders. 

Tommy put his brother at arms length and said, “Listen… We’ll get through this, alright. You can let go of her.” 

“I don’t know how,” said James miserably. 

“We’ll learn,” said Tommy, his voice earnest as tears formed in his eyes at the sight of his brother. 

They shared another embrace and James’ heart felt everything he hated - disordered, chaotic. Yet here, with his brother at his side, he felt for the first time that there may just be some semblance of order on the other side.