Missing Things - FIRST DRAFT

you can never get it back

Krista wasn't behind the counter of Coffee Collective when Carl walked in after work.

The barista who was there was leaning on the counter reading a battered copy of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe.

"Hi," Carl said to the barista. "I came for the meet-and-greet event with the artists, but I don't know where it is. I thought it would be here."

The barista sighed and put down the book. "It's on the second floor. I told Krista we needed a sign. All I've been doing for the past hour is telling people the meet-and-greet is on the second floor. No one has ordered a single drink from me."

"Well, at least it means people are interested in the art more than the drinks."

"I guess. But I'd rather be up there with my art than down here not making drinks. I'm counting down until seven when I can close up and put a sign up."

"You have art upstairs?"

"Yeah, I have one piece for sale. It's a painting of a blue egg with pink dots on a green background. It doesn't have any meaning, if you were going to ask that next. It's just what I was feeling at the time. Blue egg. Pink dots. Green background. I want to get rid of it because it's the reason me and my ex broke up."

"OK," Carl said. He hadn't had questions about the art piece before, but he had some now.

"If you can't find it, ask someone to point you to my work. Neil's work. I'm Neil. He/they. But the 'they' is symbolic rather than literal, meaning that I want you to understand that I'm nonbinary even though I use masculine pronouns."

Carl smiled. "Thanks for letting me know, Neil. I'm Carl, he/him-ish, as in 'I use masculine pronouns because I don't feel like having a conversation about my gender.'"

Neil smiled. "Mood." He put out his fist and Carl gave him a fist bump. "Take the elevator to the second floor and follow the signs. There are signs up there at least."

"Thanks," Carl said as he left the coffee shop.

***

The art space on the second floor was an empty office space with tables, easels, and lots of cabinets. A table was set up at one end with a water cooler, paper cups, and the same selection of pastries as in the coffee shop.

There was art on the wall, and people mulling around. There were more people than Carl expected, but he didn't know which were artists and which were patrons.

He spotted Krista at the refreshment table and headed there. It was better to orient himself with a familiar face rather than jump right in.

"Hi Carl!" Krista exclaimed when she saw him. "You made it!"

"I did," Carl said, taking a paper cup and filling it with water.

"We only have water," Krista said. "I was hoping to direct everyone to the coffee shop for coffee but Neil says that he won't stay there a minute past seven and I don't know if I'll be able to go down and make coffees for anyone who asks, so here we are."

"Here you are," Carl repeated, taking a sip of water and looking around. "Neil told me that I should check out his art. But I don't see a painting of a blue egg anywhere."

"That's because he put it in a corner," Krista said coming out from around the table. "He says he wants to sell it but I think he wants just the right buyer: a buyer who'll appreciate the 'true meaninglessness' of it, as he puts it." She motioned for Carl to follow her and made her way into the room. "But no art is really meaningless. If you put in the effort to create something, it means something to you! Otherwise you wouldn't do it at all! You would save your time and money and sit on your sofa and binge watch Friends or The Office while eating chips!"