Bottles
Marcus runs a community center in Third Ward. Five years now.
He's thirty-seven. They serve lunch. Soup mostly.
Someone left bottles outside. Green glass. Three of them. Marcus hung them on the shepherd hooks they use for the flag.
His assistant Dana asks: "What are those?"
"Bottles."
"Why'd you hang them?"
"Don't know. Someone left them."
The center has porcelain cups. Donated. Mismatched. They use them for coffee.
The roof leaks. Been leaking. There's a bucket.
Dana says they should call someone. Marcus says okay.
More bottles show up. Brown ones. Four. Sitting on the steps.
Marcus hangs them up with the others.
His sister calls. "How are you?"
"Fine."
"Mom wants you at dinner Sunday."
"Can't. Working."
"You always say that."
"Because I'm always working."
They talk about her daughter's school. Something about a play. Hang up.
At lunch someone asks about the bottles.
"People keep leaving them," Marcus says.
"Weird."
"Yeah."
The coffee runs out. Marcus makes more. Three cups are missing. People take them sometimes.
Dana says: "The printer is jammed again."
"Did you try turning it off?"
"Yes, Marcus. I tried turning it off."
She's annoyed. Has been annoyed lately. He doesn't blame her.
More bottles. Two blue ones. Someone left them by the door.
Marcus hangs them. The hooks are getting full now. Nine bottles total.
His mom texts: "Your sister says you're not coming Sunday."
Marcus: "Working."
Mom: "You need to eat real food."
Marcus: "I eat."
Mom: "Soup at work is not real food."
Doesn't respond.
The building next door is gone. Got torn down. Now it's empty space. Been empty for months. Marcus noticed it was gone one day. That's about it.
At lunch the sink is slow. Dana says: "We need to call a plumber."
"I will."
"You said that last week."
"I'll do it this week."
Doesn't do it.
More bottles show up. Just one this time. Clear glass. Marcus hangs it. Ten bottles now. The hooks look bent.
Dana says: "Those hooks aren't meant for this."
"I know."
"So maybe take them down?"
"Maybe."
Doesn't take them down.
Someone drops a cup at lunch. It breaks. Marcus sweeps it up.
His sister texts: "Mom is mad at you."
Marcus: "I know."
Sister: "Just come to one dinner."
Marcus: "I'm busy."
Sister: "Okay whatever."
The roof drips into the bucket. Been dripping for months. The bucket fills up. Marcus empties it. Fills up again.
Dana says: "This is getting ridiculous. We need to fix this."
"I'll call someone."
"When?"
"Soon."
Dana rolls her eyes. Goes back to her desk.
More bottles. Three. Marcus hangs them. Thirteen now. One hook looks like it might break.
At lunch people ask about the bottles again. Marcus says people keep bringing them. Someone says "That's weird" and that's the end of it.
The coffee maker makes a grinding noise now. Still works though.
His mom calls. He doesn't answer. She leaves a voicemail. He doesn't listen to it.
More bottles. Two. Marcus hangs them. Fifteen.
Dana says: "I'm serious about the roof."
"I know."
"And the sink."
"I know."
"So when are you calling someone?"
"This week."
"You said that."
"I know."
She's frustrated. He gets it. He's frustrated too. Just doesn't have time to fix everything. Or money. Or both.
The bottles keep showing up. Not every day. Just sometimes. Marcus keeps hanging them. Eighteen now. The hooks are really bent.
One day someone asks: "Why do people bring you bottles?"
"Don't know."
"Do you ask them?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Just don't."
The person shrugs. Finishes their soup. Leaves.
That night Marcus sits in the kitchen. The bucket is full. He empties it. Sits back down.
His phone buzzes. Sister: "Are you okay?"
Marcus: "Yeah."
Sister: "You never answer."
Marcus: "I'm answering now."
Sister: "You know what I mean."
Marcus doesn't respond.
Next day the printer jams again. Dana fixes it. Doesn't ask him for help.
More bottles. One. Marcus hangs it. Nineteen.
Dana says: "The roof is leaking on the chairs now."
"I'll move the bucket."
"Or you could fix the roof."
"Yeah."
Moves the bucket instead.
At lunch someone asks if the bottles are art.
"No."
"Then what are they?"
"Just bottles."
His mom texts: "You're worrying me."
Marcus: "I'm fine."
Mom: "That's what you always say."
Marcus: "Because I'm always fine."
Mom: "Okay."
More bottles show up. Three. Marcus hangs them. Twenty-two.
That night one hook breaks. Five bottles fall. Glass everywhere. Marcus sweeps it up.
Hangs the other bottles on different hooks. Seventeen bottles now.
Goes home. Comes back tomorrow. Same thing.
Dana quits two weeks later. Says she got a job at a library. Better hours. Better pay. Less leaking.
"Congratulations," Marcus says.
"Thanks. You should really fix the roof though."
"I will."
She leaves. Marcus hires someone new. Guy named Kevin. Older. Doesn't ask about the bottles. Just does his job.
The bottles are still there. Seventeen. Hanging on bent hooks. Swinging in the wind.
His mom stops texting as much. His sister texts once a week. Just checking in. He responds sometimes.
The roof still leaks. The sink is still slow. The coffee maker still grinds.
People still bring bottles. Not as many. Maybe one a week. Marcus hangs them.
Twenty bottles now.
Kevin says: "Those hooks look bad."
"Yeah."
"Going to fall probably."
"Probably."
Kevin shrugs. Goes back to serving soup.
Marcus sits in the kitchen. Empties the bucket. The bucket fills up again.
That's about it.
That's what's happening.
