“I know, I haven’t had much time off. I’ll clean it. Just give me another day or two for the rent,” I explained, searching his expression for any give. “The wife is giving me a hard time.”
“Eh, women,” the man huffed as if he would know anything about women.
“I’ll bring the check to your front door,” I offered. “It should just be a little longer, before the next rent payment is due.”
He looked away to think about it, absently smoothing down the short hair of his beast. “All right.”
“I will see you in a few days. How is two in the afternoon?”
“Yes, but not a minute later,” he warned before yanking his dog around. “Come, Clancy.”
I nodded and smiled, plastering on the expression until the old man waddled off, mumbling to himself under his breath.
The knot in my stomach gave out as I turned the bolt again, locking myself away in my little haven.
One thing I enjoyed about my studio was that it was quiet. I felt like every other place made it hard to think. Here, I could control the layout, the cleanliness, who and what went in and out of my domain. My audience was blocks of clay or stone, crowded around to watch me make another.
Sometimes, they made me feel judged. Other times, I felt less alone.
Beside my recent project was a more feminine statue, still roughly blocked, but it was beginning to resemble a particular person.
Before I knew what I was doing, I gave the statue her eyes, her nose, her delicate hands, her single-portion breasts. Her statue form stood quite proud but soft all at once. Nothing about her was too much or too little. I would expect something of a water nymph, or a woman from some myth chained away from the mortal world, for she was too valuable for the likes of them.
Pulling up my stool, I sat with my elbows on my knees. My forearms were already covered in dust and cracked, dried clay.
“What am I to do with you?” I mumbled to myself.
She didn’t reply, of course, but I wished she could. My plans for her might have changed, but that was only because she’d proven to be quite a task herself. I suppose it wasn’t the worst thing, as we now shared the same skeleton in our closet. Perhaps she had the potential to be sculpted into something else.
“I swore I did this already.” Kostya spoke mainly to himself as he rustled through a drawer.
I studied the embalming-room walls, counting the drawers. Behind each, there would be what was once a person, no doubt. I visited Kostya at work frequently enough that his coworkers treated me like another peer, credulous and familiar. Even if I came alone, they assumed the best of my presence, as if I were just here to fetch something for my friend.
“Would it be childish to blame imps for stealing my tools?” Kostya laughed nervously, and I heard some clanging from behind me.
“Yes, imps don’t exist, Kostya,” I droned, glancing over my shoulder at my flustered friend. His attitude was light, but I could see the sweat beading on his forehead.
“Iknowthat, but I’m starting to believe,” he grumbled. “I must be more organized, I can never find the tools I need when I need them.”
“Invest in better drawers.”
“That’s not up to me.”
“Then simply be more organized.”
“What worm wiggled its way upyourpants today?” Kostya approached the slab as he tied his smock.
Before I turned, I took a calm, steadying breath. I pivoted on my heel, then approached the slab as well. “Nothing. Irritated.”
“Why is that?”
“Landlord” is all I said, and he nodded as if he understood.
Kostya peeled away the sheet covering his new client.
On the slab was a woman. Half of her face was sloping a bit. Kostya said the cause of death was some mystery illness breaking out on farms upstate. It must be prolific if they were sending the bodies all the way to the city for evaluation. What surprised me more was the lack of coverage in the papers.
I stood beside her, tilting my head. Her skin was a warm shade, a few beauty marks scattered across her neck and chest. Her dark hair splayed across the cold table. Even with her warmth, the gas lamps drained her of any color that could have remained in rigor mortis. Lately, none of them came close. She was beautiful, but she wasn’t perfect.
