Recapitulation: Stuck in the middle of the road, Barry attempts to placate Jenna’s hurt feelings. Instead, his flatulence only makes the situation worse, and she responds by listening to and watching nothing but commercials. Mr. Waller, the super, may have the answer for Barry.
What is it about drab hallways that make them all the more perfect to conduct awkward conversations within? Mr. Waller stood between the faded forest green walls, a conductor’s baton in his left hand. Directing some piece in his head that only he could experience, the baton waved in what may have been some sort of octagonal shape. Barry stood in the doorframe, his heel blocking the door so Jenna couldn’t lock him out. Not that it didn’t keep her from trying, he winced when Jenna slammed the door on his foot. Again and again.
“Barry, I got keys. You can step out here, and if your wife locks you out, I’ll let you back in.” He jangled the keys in his other hand, keeping in time with his peculiar conducting motions.
“That’s, ow, ok.” After the door slammed on his heel again, Barry took a step out. The door slammed shut, a fury more attractive than an electromagnet squeezing him out into the hallway. “Look, Mr. Waller, she’s not my wife.”
“I know, after marriage, they change. Something funny happens, like some biological change, ain’t it? Walk with me.” He threw his bear like arm around Barry’s shoulders. The increased size of the two meant they couldn’t weave to the left or the right too far. “Gotta say, when I met her, I almost didn’t believe her. Never seen her, never heard you talking about her, never seen you bring her back up here, but I approve of that, so. And that ring, wow, you buy that used or something?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Yeah, it ain’t fit too good, but what a rock. Wow. So, you kids these days, I don’t know why you think marriage is gonna be so simple, but it’s not.”
Barry held his hand up. “Yes, but.”
Mr. Waller waved the baton over Barry’s shoulder. “No, no, let me finish. You can’t be married more than a couple weeks, right? And already, things ain’t as good as they was before.” Barry shivered as Mr. Waller’s belly rumbled. “You’re thinking to yourself, I gotta get out of this before it’s too late, right?”
“Yes, exactly. You’ve seen her.”
“Yeah, she ain’t bad lookin. But, here’s the thing. You can’t get out of it, and I won’t let you.”
“What?” Barry stopped walking, but Mr. Waller kept dragging his body along. The baton continued cutting the air, beating out a simple rhythm.
“I know you kids think marriage is the answer to everything, and divorce is the answer to marriage. That ain’t it. Divorce ain’t never the answer. You ain’t never lived with a woman before, that’s fine, they’re hard to deal with. I’m gonna train you. Gonna teach you how to be the man she wants to be with. Gonna show you what it takes to make a marriage work. Been through four myself, so I should know.” The laugh bubbled up as a deep gurgle, exploding in a boisterous rumble that almost threw Barry off his feet. But for Mr. Waller’s arm, it would have.
“Mr. Waller, I appreciate the help and all, but there’s something you should know.”
“Oh, my pleasure Barry, you kids, you ain’t know nothing about real life, think its all cut and dry, black and white, up and down.”
If only you knew. “Mr. Waller, she’s not my wife.”
“She will be when I’m done with you.”
“No, she’s blackmailing me, this is a sham. You’ve got to help me get her out.”
Mr. Waller stopped, turned his head downward on Barry, like the angry gaze of a god upon one of his unbelievers. He breathed out, Barry thought it smelled like fresh potpourri. His eyebrow raised. He licked his lips, looked pensive, or at least as close to pensive as Mr. Waller got. Barry stared up at the man, caught between running out of here and moving to a monastery, and the giant arm which held him immobile.
“You kids.” Mr. Waller slapped Barry’s chest, leaving behind a large handprint that would bruise the majority of his torso in a few hours. He laughed deep, as if calling forth an earthquake. After a bit, Barry joined in, a halting, stumbling half-laugh that felt more at home in the presence of a joke made at your expense in polite company. “Look, things will get better, I’ll help you.”
With that, Mr. Waller carried Barry to his first floor apartment
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