The Marionettes
Zach Kimball would never have been happy in a nine-to-five office job. It would not suit him to be chained to a desk, staring at a computer monitor. Neither could he be considered a "people person." What he enjoyed most was working with his hands. Ever since he was a child, when he spent long hours puttering around in his father's woodshop, Zach liked to build things. He grew to love the look of wood with a natural finish, the smooth feel of a finely sanded surface and the smells of varnish and sawdust.
After graduating from Attleboro High School, Zach studied the art of woodworking with a master craftsman in Vermont. Once his skills were on par with those of his teacher, the young man returned to Attleboro and opened a workshop and storefront on Park Street where he made handcrafted gifts that he sold to tourists who passed through the city on their way from Providence to Boston or Cape Cod. Zach's heart, however, was not in making decorative wooden plaques, whimsical whirligigs and birdhouses. He longed to make fine furniture. Occasionally, he crafted a rocking chair, a bookcase or a curio cabinet. Tourists, however, did not normally buy such large items. These pieces were purchased by local residents who appreciated the high-quality craftsmanship that went into making them.
One day Diane Portman, an artist who lived in a Victorian home on High Street in North Attleboro, visited Zach's shop. She asked him to make a settle for her, but she specifically requested that he leave the chair unfinished.
"I don't want it stained," she told him. "I'd like to paint it myself."
Paint? Zach thought with horror, feeling like a chef who must stand quietly by and watch a diner douse his perfectly cooked and seasoned filet mignon with ketchup.
He firmly believed that paint destroyed the beauty of the furniture by masking the natural wood grain, but he was first and foremost a businessman, not an artist. Even if the young woman chose to color the surface of the settle with Crayola crayons, who was he to object just as long as she paid for it first?
"You don't think I should paint the settle, do you?" Diane asked, correctly reading the emotion shown on his face.
"I must admit I prefer a natural finish myself, but that's just my opinion."
A week after Zach finished the settle, Diane returned to his shop. When the woodworker saw the settle, covered with a drop cloth in the back of Mrs. Portman's pick-up truck, he assumed she was dissatisfied and wanted to bring the chair back. Zach anticipated an argument since he had no intention of giving the woman a refund if she had already covered the settle with paint.
The bell above the front door jingled when Diane walked into the shop.
"Hello, again," she called with an amiable smile. "I would like to show you something if you have a minute."
"All sales are final, ma'am" Zach cautiously informed her as he followed her outside to her pick-up truck.
"Oh, I'm not here to get a refund," Diane explained as she pulled the tarp off the seat. "I just wanted to show you how it looks now that it's finished."
Zach was amazed when he saw what the woman had done.
"I didn't realize you were so talented," he said, examining the exquisite scene painted on the high back of the settle.
"Normally, I work on canvas, but I'm currently redoing my family room and wanted to customize the furniture."
"You certainly did a beautiful job!"
Other people shared Zach's high opinion of Diane's work, and the artist soon returned to the shop on Park Street to purchase additional pieces of unfinished furniture for herself as well as for others. Before the year was out, the craftsman and the artist formed a partnership and began selling their handcrafted, hand-painted furniture and accessories out of Zach's shop.
Zach and Diane were both delighted with the success of their joint venture. Not only did they make a decent amount of money, but they also formed a strong friendship, a bond that went far beyond the scope of mere business associates. Indeed, Zach fell deeply in love with his partner. The only problem was that she was already married. The woodworker did not want to risk either their business relationship or their friendship by declaring his affection, so he suffered his unrequited love in silence.
* * *
Meanwhile, the demand for the exquisite furniture grew, and eventually, there were more orders than the partners could fill. Zach's former teacher in Vermont was able to handle the overflow as far as the woodworking went, but it was obvious that another painter would have to be hired to help Diane finish the furniture.
"We may even have to hire two painters," Zach declared. "Once the baby arrives, you'll have your hands full."
"My being a mother doesn't mean I'll neglect the business," she protested. "Why don't we just hire one person to paint the backgrounds, and I'll do the detailed work?"
Zach smiled. He knew his partner was a perfectionist and would never trust someone else to meet her high expectations.
As the pregnant Diane's due date neared, she did most of her work at home rather than at the workshop, so it was left to her partner to hire the new painter. Late one Friday evening, just as Zach was getting ready to close the store, Maxine Kelso showed up with a page of The Sun Chronicle's classified section in her hand, eager to apply for the job.
"Do you have any experience?" Zach asked the attractive applicant.
"I've never actually worked as an artist before," Maxine admitted, "but I've done a lot of painting—mostly arts and crafts stuff that I then sold on eBay and at flea markets in New Jersey. That's where I lived; I just moved to Massachusetts about three months ago."
The young woman reached into her purse and took out a handful of photographs of items she had painted. Her style of painting, Americana folk art, was very similar to Diane's.
"These are quite good," Zach opined.
Moments later the Queen Anne-style grandfather clock in the corner of the shop—one Zach had built himself—chimed six.
"I didn't realize it was so late," Maxine apologized. "Would you prefer I come back on Monday morning?"
"That won't be necessary. You've got the job—if you want it, that is. If you're free, we can go out to dinner now and discuss your salary and all the other necessary details."
Maxine hesitated.
"Don't worry," Zach assured her. "Dinner will be a strictly business situation. I promise I'm not going to hit on you."
The young woman laughed and felt more at ease.
"Okay, I accept. But I'm a vegetarian, so please don't pick a steakhouse or a hamburger place."
* * *
When Zach suggested his partner permanently work out of her home so she could be with her child, Diane's feminist streak bristled.
"I don't see why I can't be in business and be a mother at the same time."
"Whatever arrangements you want to make are fine with me," he quickly assured her. "You can even bring the baby to work with you if you'd like. We can set up a crib and playpen in the back room, away from the sawdust and paint fumes."
Maxine would have preferred Diane stay at home, or better yet, give up her half of the business and devote her time to her family. She did not like playing second fiddle to anyone, not at work and not in her personal life. While it was clear she could not best Diane when it came to painting, Maxine saw no reason why she could not outdo her in other ways.
With this goal in mind, the young woman from New Jersey set her sights on Zach Kimball, one of Attleboro's most eligible bachelors. At first, Maxine made little progress in her attempts to capture her boss's affection, but she was nothing if not persistent. Eventually, she wore down his resistance.
When Diane found out that the two were dating, she was not happy.
"Are you sure it's wise to have a close personal relationship with an employee?" she asked her partner.
"It's not a relationship," he clarified. "It's just an occasional dinner and a movie."
"Still, you know how things are these days. You have to be extremely careful about what you say to a member of the opposite sex. Sometimes the most innocent comments can be interpreted as sexual harassment."
"Put your mind at rest, Mama Hen. I won't be harassing anyone. I'm not about to jeopardize our partnership in any way."
Diane's manner softened.
"It's not just our business arrangement I'm worried about."
Zach simply nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.
"I care about you," Diane confessed. "I admit I don't know Maxine very well, but there's something about her. I can't put my finger on it, but I don't trust her. She's liable to hurt you, and I couldn't bear to see that happen."
Zach was spared having to answer when the bell above the door of the shop announced the arrival of a customer.
* * *
Despite his well-meant intentions not to get personally involved with Maxine Kelso, Zach was only human, and his employee was an attractive woman who knew how to manipulate a man. Although he would never love anyone as much as he loved Diane, there was no reason he had to remain a lonely bachelor for the rest of his life, pining over a woman he could never have. The "all or nothing" philosophy he previously had regarding love was amended. If he could not find true happiness, he would settle for being content.
When Zach announced his engagement, Diane did not voice her doubts or objections but kept them to herself. Outwardly, she feigned happiness that her friend was getting married, and she graciously congratulated him and wished him long years of happiness.
Maxine was smugly satisfied with her victory. No sooner was the gold band placed on her finger than she quit working at the shop and devoted her time to spending her husband's money. It did not take Zach long to realize he had made a mistake and that a marriage of convenience was a poor substitute for one based on love. Nonetheless, since he could never be with Diane, he saw no pressing reason to divorce Maxine. Consequently, he tolerated her extravagance and devoted all his time and energy to building up his business.
* * *
As Diane's daughter, Taylor, grew older, the little girl spent more and more time with her mother at the Park Street workshop. Zach adored the child. During his free time, he used leftover scraps of wood to make small toys for her. Occasionally, he and Diane collaborated on a special gift. The first one had been a wooden rocking horse painted to look like an antique carousel charger. The horse was followed by a doll's house, complete with miniaturized furniture in every room.
"It's going to be hard to outdo this present," Diane told her business partner after they gave the doll's house to her daughter.
"I've got a good idea," Zach announced happily. "We could make her a puppet stage."
In a modern, technological world of computer games, Dancing Elmo dolls and LeapFrog learning systems, puppet stages had long since become obsolete. However, Diane, who had a penchant for history and antiques, loved the idea.
The two friends, as usual, worked well together. While Zach made the wooden stage, Diane sewed the curtains, and when Diane painted elaborate scenes from popular fairy tales on the outside of the stage, Zach carved highly detailed marionettes out of blocks of scrap wood.
"Who are they, Punch and Judy?" Diane asked when she saw the first two marionettes Zach had created.
"They're not anyone yet, but eventually they're going to be a king and queen. My next masterpiece is going to be a young princess," he joked.
"These are wonderful! I can make little crowns and royal robes for them. Taylor is going to love this present. Oh, thank you, Zach," she cried and threw her arms around her partner's neck.
The embrace was innocent enough, a simple hug meant to be an expression of affection between two close friends. Unfortunately, Maxine chose that particular moment to enter the workshop. Naturally, when she saw her husband in the arms of another woman, she became furious. She screamed vituperations at Zach and Diane, accusing them both of all sorts of immoral behavior.
"That's enough!" Zach shouted, having endured enough of her hysterics. "You've jumped to the wrong conclusion. It was just an innocent hug. I made Taylor a puppet stage for her birthday, and Diane wanted to thank me."
Maxine gave no credence to her husband's explanation. She angrily stormed out of the furniture shop, vowing that she would make her husband and his partner sorry for their betrayal.
* * *
Since Taylor often accompanied her mother to the furniture workshop, Zach decided to keep the completed puppet stage in the basement of his house until he and Diane were ready to give it to the little girl. Often, late in the evenings, he would go downstairs and work on the marionettes. When he finally finished carving the puppets' features, he ran sturdy strings through the wires he had placed in the head, hands, feet and joints and attached them to the wooden control bars.
"Well, your majesty," Zach said as he made the small wooden king strut proudly across his workbench, "you are now ready for your royal coronation."
He then picked up the crown Diane had fashioned from gold metallic fabric and placed it on the puppet's head.
"Next, I will finish your wife. After all, what is a king without a queen?"
Suddenly, the woodworker was overcome with sadness.
"I wish I had my queen beside me," he sighed. "If only Diane's husband would just disappear, then maybe ...."
Zach shook his head and sighed with resignation. He must not entertain those foolish notions, for such thoughts only added to his despair. Diane would never be his; why couldn't he accept that?
Laying the finished king marionette on the workbench beside the unfinished queen, he turned out the basement light and went upstairs to bed.
The following morning Zach opened the shop at nine, but Diane was not there. A half hour later his partner still had not arrived. It was not until after ten that the phone rang.
"I'm sorry but I won't be coming in today," she informed him.
Zach was worried; he could hear her soft sobs over the phone.
"What's wrong? It's not Taylor, is it?"
"No. My husband left me. He just packed his bags and walked out."
Zach immediately closed the shop and went to the Portmans' North Attleboro house to comfort Diane and her daughter. It proved to be an emotionally exhausting day, and when Zach went home after ten that night, he was in no mood for his wife's angry outburst.
"I've told you dozens of times," he explained when Maxine once again accused him of having an affair with his business partner, "we're just good friends. I went over there because she was upset; her husband left her."
"Isn't that convenient?" Maxine asked with a repugnant sneer. "With him out of the way, you can move right in."
"What are you talking about?" Zach cried. "I'm married to you, remember?"
"Is that what you call this mess we're in, a marriage?"
"No," he answered with weary disgust. "It's many things, but most definitely not a marriage."
Zach left his wife fuming in the kitchen and fled to the sanctuary of his basement. The sight of the colorful puppet stage comforted him. His and Diane's latest collaboration resulted in a true work of art. Idly, he picked up the queen marionette and tested its controls by making the puppet dance across the stage.
"That's it, my pretty queen," he said, thinking of Diane. "Dance and be happy. I hate to see you cry. If I had it in my power, I would make sure that you never shed another tear."
* * *
The following morning when Zach arrived at the shop, Diane was already at work, painting a trestle table.
"You're here early," he observed. "If you're not up to it, you can go home early. The work can always wait."
"I want to be here," Diane replied, smiling warmly. "This is where I'm most happy—here with you and Taylor. Last night, after you'd gone, I realized I didn't care that my husband left me. There was nothing between us anymore. There hasn't been for some time now."
Zach stared at his partner, his heart beating wildly as his hopes rose.
Diane continued hesitantly, "I've always cared about you. I know we can never be more than friends, but ...."
Zach could not stand it any longer. He quickly closed the distance between them, took Diane in his arms and silenced her with a kiss.
* * *
"Divorce?" Maxine cried as though the word were alien to her.
"Yes. I would like a divorce," Zach declared firmly. "And I'm willing to pay you handsomely for one."
At his mention of money, Maxine's cold eyes glittered; however, her greed was at war with spite. As much as she would have liked to walk away with a large financial settlement, she had vowed to make Zach and Diane sorry for what she believed was an adulterous affair. Also, she thought, if she refused to give her husband a divorce, he might up the ante. In another year, he might even be willing to double the amount.
Zach was furious at his wife's refusal to set him free. He had loved Diane for years, and now she admitted to loving him. Finally, true happiness was in sight, but like Tantalus' grapes, it remained just out of his grasp.
* * *
Zach locked the door of the shop. Diane had gone home several hours earlier, but he had stayed to work on a dry sink ordered by a doctor from Maine. He had no intention of going home. Until Maxine agreed to a divorce, he would continue to sleep on a cot in the back of the shop.
"She'll relent soon," he promised Diane. "I've canceled her charge accounts and ATM card."
But Zach was not sure that curtailing his wife's spending would be enough. He had no doubt that Maxine was greedy, but she was also mean-spirited and vindictive, the type of woman who would revel in his and Diane's unhappiness.
After turning out the lights in the storefront, Zach retreated to the workroom and picked up a block of wood from the scrap pile.
"All puppet shows need a villain," he announced as he picked up one of his carving tools. "We already have a king, a queen and a princess, and soon we shall have a witch."
With only his thoughts to keep him company, Zach labored diligently, long into the early morning hours. When the marionette's head and body were completed, he cut several lengths of string from a large spool and ran them through the wires in the puppet's head, arms, legs and joints.
"Now you shall dance to my tune, little witch," he said with bittersweet laughter, as he worked the marionette's control bars.
* * *
The next afternoon Zach and Diane's busy workday was interrupted by a visit from the Attleboro police.
"I'm very sorry to have to be the bearer of such tragic news," the uniformed patrolman dolefully informed Zach, "but your wife is dead. Apparently, she hanged herself in the bedroom closet. Your housekeeper, Mrs. Cole, found the body about half an hour ago."
Maxine Kimball's death was ruled a suicide. She had been alone in the house at the time of her demise, and her husband—who would have been the most likely suspect in the case of a murder—had been at work.
After a suitable period of mourning, Zach and his newly divorced business partner were married. To celebrate the occasion, the couple decided to present Taylor with the puppet stage they had made rather than wait until the little girl's birthday. The groom even gave an impromptu marionette performance later that evening.
"And once the evil witch was dead," Zach declared at the end of the play, "the good king, queen and princess lived happily ever after."
At the conclusion of the show, Taylor and her mother applauded loudly.
Then Diane scooped her daughter up into her arms and announced, "Come on, honey. It's time for you to go to bed."
Taylor called to her stepfather, "Uncle Zach, can you tuck me in?"
"I'll be up in a minute, sweetheart. I want to put the puppets away first."
Zach hung the king, queen and princess marionettes on special hooks he had installed at the rear of the puppet stage. As he picked up the witch, however, he felt a sharp pain in his finger. His initial reaction was that he had gotten a splinter from the wood. But when he looked down at the marionette, he saw the witch turn its head, stare at him with its black-painted eyes and smile with a malevolence that chilled his blood. The terrified man dropped the puppet and watched in horror as it stood up on its two wooden legs and began to walk. Although awkward at first, it soon gained confidence, and its movements became more fluid. Before Zach realized the danger he faced, the marionette mounted its miniature broomstick and flew directly at his face.
* * *
"Zach?" Diane called as she walked down the stairs. "Taylor is waiting for you to tuck her in."
Her husband did not reply.
"Zach, are you down here?"
She turned on the hall light switch.
"The honeymoon isn't over already, is it?" she laughed.
Suddenly, the new bride let out a blood-curdling scream as she saw her husband lying dead on the family room floor. Zach's face was a hideous shade of purple, for wound tightly around his neck were the strings of the witch marionette.
Salem once turned himself into a marionette and auditioned for a role on The Muppet Show. He was mortified when he lost to Rizzo the Rat.
