Marian

Marian has always been odd. It is almost like his parents predisposed him for weirdness since the day they gave him a gender uncertain name. Marian enjoyed things most people repel such as making friends with the biggest cockroaches or spending time in obscure metro places. But that was in his spare time, ‘cause he had a job like the rest of us. Marian liked his job as it provided him some kind of freedom and odd fascination. He made and delivered shopping orders to people too busy, too lazy or too invalid to do them themselves. He felt as if he was part of each client’s close circle as if he was taking part in a secret ritual and, to top it off, it brought him a couple of bucks as well. 

‘Fridays are always so predictable.’ Marian acknowledged in his mind. ‘Why are people so predictable on Fridays? It’s like the thought of two free days that come afterward is making them feel potent and they forget about the workweek depression and failed hopes. But they go on doing the same thing.’  he continues to meditate as he drives the shopping cart among the aisles. 

Marian liked to speak to himself. No one was going to judge him and there was no pressure of proving anyone anything. He always had to prove himself somehow because people tended to always misjudge Marian. So he spoke out loud only when it was truly necessary.  

This morning he had a guy named Alex T., a woman named Ruth G. and another woman named Laura P. 

‘Alriiight! We’re starting easy!’ he thought stretching his hands and neck as if to run for a marathon. 

His mom always taught him good manners towards the opposite sex so he gave priority to the ladies. With a single ample look to the shopping list, he managed to decipher Ruth: around 40 to 45 years old, cold almost raw appearance but longing for affection more than anything in the world, loved her husband but in a friendly manner, secretly stashing money away to go on a solo escapade somewhere in Europe as she has seen numerous times in the movies that she watches every Friday night and, most obvious, allergic to wheat flour. She had ordered a bottle of fine French wine,  medium price cheese, grapes, tissues, gluten-free chips, an issue of the Wanderlust Magazine and a pack of pads. 

A normal person would see no real connection between these items, but Marian was no normal person. He couldn’t do social gatherings but he could connect all the stars about a person and form a constellation.

As for Laura P., she was your typical corporate person, who smoked even though she did not quite like it but did it in order to fit and tried to compensate for that and for the artificiality of her everyday working space with exotic fruits, salads, and energy-boost drinks. 

He finished with that quickly so he went on to his last client of the morning. But when Marian reached for his final order of the morning, a giggle escaped from within him.

‘Someone interesting, at last!’  he mentally screamed. ‘Now, what’s your story Alex T.?’

If he was to judge superficially, he would say he was a secluded writer or just a middle-aged man with a lot of fears and resentments. If he looked more closely, nothing about him made sense. It was almost as if Alex P. was aware of Marian’s ‘ability’ to decipher people through their shopping lists. It was almost if Alex P. was testing him.  It looked more like a quest for treasures rather than stuff that you could easily find at a local supermarket. Marian wasn’t even sure if it was allowed to provide this guy all that stuff, but Marian was not one who cares much about social norms or rules. And when Marian got intrigued there was no turning back.

‘Ok. I understand vodka. It’s Friday night, you want to cool off with a glass of cold vodka, but why would you want a living lamb?’ Marian thought. 

‘Maybe he just wants some company and he is not your average person who loves either cats or dogs or both.  Ok, Marian, you’ve got this!’ he continued in his head.

The reality was that it was the first time Marian had no idea how to make sense of all the items. And there was no way to confirm it without meeting Alex P. in person.

‘Maybe he wants to do an experiment or maybe a barbaric ritual. What are puppy faces anyway? Does he mean it literally?’

Marian was getting desperate with each second and was, at the same time, feeling so alive.  He was, after all, just a boy on a quest.

He ran to fetch the easiest items on the list: vodka, zipper bags, shrimps, matches, National Geographic Magazine and a red pencil. The last one was written in bold as if not to be forgotten by any means.  

‘Vodka can indicate two things: you are either though or want to seem tough or you want to burn something in style’  Marian continued his chain of thoughts.

He was dying to meet this Alex P. and shape a more clear image of him. He was dying to form one more constellation. Until then, though, he had to figure out what he meant by puppy faces- he didn’t dare to call, to not spoil his game-, to get the living lamb and to decide on the ‘something pink (girly!)’. 

‘Why is he being so cryptic with me?’ Marian wondered as if they already knew each other for a great deal of time. 

After many efforts and dripping sweat from his forehead, he gathered what he thought  Alex P. meant through his shopping riddle and finally went on delivering all the orders. 

Ruth G. and Laura P. came as no surprise to Marian. They were exactly as Marian expected them to be, but he could take no pleasure in being confirmed this time. He was saving himself for the big reveal.  He even started shaking on his way to his last and mysterious client. He took a deep breath and pressed the button. 

‘At last’  a flat response came from the intercom followed by the buzz of the opening door. 

Marian realized he was climbing the stairs really anxiously so he took a moment and remembered a little game he used to do as a kid when his school mates were giving him a hard time.

‘One step at a time. One leg in front of the other and, before you realize, you get to the end of the world’ he recited.

So he took one stair at the time and things seemed to fall into place, at least for a while. He knocked on the door and then waited ceremoniously with the order. Alex P. took some good minutes to answer but when he did, it took Marian by surprise. 

Alex P. was 45-50-year-old fella with a dangerous aura around him and a beard that would have made a goat jealous. But the thing that Marian did not expect was the curly blond little girl who was clinging by his leg.

‘Ahm. The lamb you ordered, sir. It is inside the-the.. truck. I didn’t want to bring everything at once...Mhm.. he is frightened’. 

‘I would have done the same’  Alex P. replied visibly impatient.

‘What is this guy up to?’ Marian thought.   

‘Sir..hm..I-I suffer from chronic curiosity. May I ask..hmm..what is the lamb for?’

‘Isn’t this against the policies of the company?’ 

‘It is...but it would be just between us. Sir.’

‘Everything on that list is for this little creature here’ he looked affectionate towards the little girl who did not stop staring at Marian for one second. ‘We’re recreating a scene from her favorite book. When I wrote it, I didn’t have kids’  he laughed.

‘Oh’  that’s all Marian could formulate.

He was pleased with the man’s answer but something was bothering him. He ignored it, though, believing that his ‘ability’ was failing him. 

‘I sensed he was some kind of writer’  Marian reflected as he returned with the lamb.

The man thanked him and slammed the door in a categorical manner and Marian went on his way with a strange feeling in his stomach. 

‘This is the last time you’re doing this with the lists! It’s not fair to you nor to the people you judge!’  Marian lectured himself. 

That night he couldn’t sleep at all, feeling like he failed someone somehow by his inability to decipher this guy correctly. 

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The following week, to his absolute shock, he found out that“ Local writer sacrifices his little girl in a barbaric ritual’.