Making Do
Photograph by Joseph Hole
NEW ISSUE
Making Sense
This issue of Making Do attempts to explore the process of "making sense" as a method of creative production, making sense in the space between reality and fantasy. What happens in that space, the often nervous frequency between the real and the non-real?
Using and pushing the process further, the editors have decided to not even attempt to make sense of each other by working together. Instead, they have each visited that territory separately and with the company of their contributors - the results of which, was then put together in an envelope. The reader holds the evidence of these journeys.
OUT NOW
Order the issue
The Yellow Cup / Maria / Vira Morro
Clara Lobo
Issue 2 - Making Sense
The Yellow Cup
Seventy-three years old, three ex-wives, two sons, one prostate cancer. Retired, Mr. Tausek’s only concern is to take care of his youngest, now thirteen. His oldest is forty-nine, married, living in a small country near the African coast. Left impotent by the prostate cancer, Mr. Tausek decided not to look for a new girlfriend, making the task of raising his son the only purpose of his life. He still plans to die right after Daniel’s college graduation, approximately ten years from now.
A former city councilor, former dean of the state college, he is now a father of
the age of a grandfather. His youngest son lives with him, as the daughters of his third wife used to do before they went off to college. The four-bedroom apartment is now unequally divided: two rooms for Mr. Tausek, one for Daniel and one for possible guests.
From Monday to Friday his days begin early. He wakes up at five, has a frugal breakfast and walks around the block. Then he comes back to the house, wakes up the boy and makes him some toast and eggs. After taking Daniel to school he is free until 3:30 pm to do whatever he wants to. His doctor said that it was advisable to be involved in some third age activity, but he feels fine at home.
When he returns to his house, he lights a cigarette and reads part of the newspaper. Then he searches for things to do.
He sits at his desk and makes a list.
MONDAY:
1 – Supermarket (don’t forget chocolate and iced tea).
2 – Deposit rebate check.
3 – Organize the newspaper clippings.
He takes his time at the supermarket looking for discounts, comparing prices, writing down the sodium content of different foods. Then he goes to the bank and deposits the 20-dollar rebate check he received through the mail. When he gets home it’s 11:00 am. Tired of frozen food, he decides to have lunch at a nice restaurant he used to go to with his second wife. Being one of the first customers to arrive for lunch, he is able to choose the table he always preferred, by the window overlooking the fruit garden. The place seems now very different: all the waiters are new to him and his favorite dish is no longer on the menu. This doesn’t bother Mr. Tausek, so he chooses a fish with orange sauce very similar to the dish he remembers as delicious. Waiting for the food to come, he looks at his distorted, upside-down self on the metal surface of his spoon. He gazes at it, suddenly aware that the piece of metal in his hand will be on earth, useful and strangely alive, for more time than he will. But when his dead fish arrives, he doesn’t think of it anymore. He would never compare himself to a fish, an unpleasantly odorous fish. He feels definitely closer to silverware.
After lunch his son calls to say that he’s going to spend the day at his friend’s home. He will help his classmate with math – Mr. Tausek is proud of his son for being the best student in math - and he will be back by seven. Mr. Tausek, a man of principles, says: “Good boy. Always helping your friends.”
He goes to his study room. Mr. Tausek is reorganizing the clippings that he collects since the first time his name appeared on a newspaper (that was 1951, months before his graduation, when he was working as a research assistant). The clippings used to be organized chronologically, but he decided to sort them out by order of importance instead. It’s essential and logical that his biggest accomplishments stand in the end.
To please Daniel, who until now has never had the curiosity to see his father’s collection, he’s thinking of putting his son’s birth as his last entry: being a father at the age of sixty says more of a man than being the dean of the state college. Observing all the clippings on the table one can see that Mr. Tausek’s life stops at the age of sixty-seven, in a note with a small photo published when the academic community paid him homage for his achievements.
While shuffling the ocher-smelling papers, he looks at the pictures and doesn’t recognize himself. Although he has some recollection of the things that have happened, he doesn’t feel as if they have happened to him. Except Daniel, who is surely his, all seems foreign. He feels as if he’s looking through the mirror, but not exactly looking: he’s being looked at. Perhaps, he thinks, there is a double somewhere. Everything is bogus nowadays.
He goes to the mirror and looks at himself. He knows there’s nothing inside the mirror, but he takes it off the wall just to be sure. Flat, as he suspected. He goes to the window stepping backwards and sees the world through the mirror, trying to catch a hidden incongruence. He looks and looks and sees nothing unusual. But he knows there’s something wrong somewhere. Perhaps one day he’ll find out what it is.
At 7:00 pm, while Mr. Tausek is watching TV, the telephone rings. Mr. Tausek is familiar with Daniel’s behavior, and, knowing that it’s not good news, is reluctant to answer. He knows exactly what Daniel will ask him, and he’s not willing to say yes.
“Dad, can I stay over?”
“No.”
“Please, dad.”
“Out of the question.”
“Hang on.”
A female voice enters the line: “Hiii, I’m Pedro’s mother. I know you are a very diligent father but it’s good for Daniel to stay out sometimes. It’s a way to grow up.”
“Sorry, we’ve got rules in our house.”
“I don’t mean to tell you how to handle your child, but don’t you think you’re being overprotective?”
“No. Can I have Daniel on the phone, please?”
“Sure, Mr. Tausek.”
“Yes, dad,” Daniel mumbles.
“Be ready in fifteen minutes. I’m coming to pick you up.”
Mr. Tausek goes to pick up Daniel. When he arrives the boy is outside the building, sitting on the front stairs while talking to his friend, Pedro. Mr. Tausek wonders if Pedro really needs Daniel to help him with math. When Daniel gets in the car, his father tries to reason with him.
“You know you can stay over on weekends, but not on weekdays.”
“You never let me go anywhere on weekends.”
“I let you go to the movies with your friends. But occasionally you have to spend some time with your family.”
“We see each other every day!”
“You see your friends almost everyday.”
“But it’s different!”
“Don’t raise your voice, Daniel.”
They arrive at home and Daniel goes straight to his bedroom and closes the door behind him. He turns on his computer. Within minutes, he hears the sound of the blender, muffled by the walls. He knows what’s happening in the kitchen and doesn’t know whether or not to comply. His father opens the door.
“Look, don’t be mad. I made you some milkshake.”
“Thanks.”
Daniel takes the milkshake and gulps it down. While waiting for the empty glass, Mr. Tausek gazes at the computer screen. The screen, black filled with white letters, shows the reflection of Daniel drinking his milkshake. His son, in profile, could be any of the men of his family: the projected forehead, the aquiline nose. The acne, erased by the dark projection, is the only way to tell he’s thirteen. He seems much older now; he has the profile of a grown man. Daniel looks at his father and seems annoyed. “Hey, do you mind?”
“Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Mr. Tausek takes the empty glass and goes toward the door. “If you need anything…”
“I know, I know.”
Mr. Tausek closes the door behind him. On the way to the kitchen he stumbles on a loose tile and falls with a thud. Almost instantly Daniel opens the door of his room and lunges forward with eyes wide open.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
Mr. Tausek explains that there’s a loose tile on the floor. Daniel comes closer and, while helping his father up, takes the glass from his hands.
“Luckily it didn’t break, but you better be careful. I’ll take it to the kitchen. Go to your bedroom to rest”, says Daniel.
Mr. Tausek bends to look at the loose tile, taking his reading glasses from his pocket and putting them on his nose. He stomps on the tile to make it fit the floor again. Daniel goes back to his room. Mr. Tausek goes to his bedroom, sits at his desk, takes a sheet of paper from his drawer and writes.
TUESDAY:
1 – Call flooring company.
He stands up and goes towards his bed. Then he stops, looks back, and sits at his desk again.
2 – Throw away the mirrors.
The next day, after taking Daniel to school, he lays down, one by one, every mirror hanging in the apartment. Then, with an old screwdriver and some other tools, he takes off the mirrors from the bathroom cabinets.
Then he completes his task of reorganizing his clippings. Daniel’s picture as a newborn is on the last page. In the photograph, Mr. Tausek and deceased Mrs. Tausek are smiling to the camera, Mrs. Tausek holding little Daniel in her arms. He is sure that the man in the picture is himself; he still remembers the unimportant details, like the color of the baby bag (light blue) and the figure on Daniel’s favorite sheet (a cow). He tries not to look at the other pictures, though, because he cannot be certain that the man in some of them is himself. For brief moments he is certain he is not him; he has seen him before, this other man, he knows him, and that man is a counterfeit. There are two Mr. Tauseks.
At 3:30 pm he goes to pick up Daniel from school. He is in his car, waiting for Daniel to arrive, when he sees his son talking to a friend. He waits patiently in the car while he looks at his son, his lean, tall figure. When Daniel looks back at him and begins walking towards the car, a chill goes up Mr. Tausek’s spine. For there’s no way he can ever be sure that that kid is really Daniel and not a double, not someone trying to steal Daniel’s life the same way the other Mr. Tausek does to him. The teenager looks at his father and grins, holding up a big yellow cup the old man has never seen before.
As if his seventy-three years of life had finally caught up with him, Mr. Tausek feels exhausted. He lets his hands off the steer. Daniel gets in the car.
“Is there something wrong, dad?”
Mr. Tausek sits still, motionless, looking at the road ahead of him through the windowsill. The students are talking, laughing; some of them type messages on their mobile phones. Two siblings hug as if they haven’t seen each other for days. A boy stands alone, looking at his watch. Mr. Tausek summons up his strength to get out of his car. Standing up, he aims for an invisible target and walks, strides, runs, cries for the end of his life.
Back
Clara Lobo
Issue 2 - Making Sense
The Yellow Cup
Seventy-three years old, three ex-wives, two sons, one prostate cancer. Retired, Mr. Tausek’s only concern is to take care of his youngest, now thirteen. His oldest is forty-nine, married, living in a small country near the African coast. Left impotent by the prostate cancer, Mr. Tausek decided not to look for a new girlfriend, making the task of raising his son the only purpose of his life. He still plans to die right after Daniel’s college graduation, approximately ten years from now.
A former city councilor, former dean of the state college, he is now a father of
the age of a grandfather. His youngest son lives with him, as the daughters of his third wife used to do before they went off to college. The four-bedroom apartment is now unequally divided: two rooms for Mr. Tausek, one for Daniel and one for possible guests.
From Monday to Friday his days begin early. He wakes up at five, has a frugal breakfast and walks around the block. Then he comes back to the house, wakes up the boy and makes him some toast and eggs. After taking Daniel to school he is free until 3:30 pm to do whatever he wants to. His doctor said that it was advisable to be involved in some third age activity, but he feels fine at home.
When he returns to his house, he lights a cigarette and reads part of the newspaper. Then he searches for things to do.
He sits at his desk and makes a list.
MONDAY:
1 – Supermarket (don’t forget chocolate and iced tea).
2 – Deposit rebate check.
3 – Organize the newspaper clippings.
He takes his time at the supermarket looking for discounts, comparing prices, writing down the sodium content of different foods. Then he goes to the bank and deposits the 20-dollar rebate check he received through the mail. When he gets home it’s 11:00 am. Tired of frozen food, he decides to have lunch at a nice restaurant he used to go to with his second wife. Being one of the first customers to arrive for lunch, he is able to choose the table he always preferred, by the window overlooking the fruit garden. The place seems now very different: all the waiters are new to him and his favorite dish is no longer on the menu. This doesn’t bother Mr. Tausek, so he chooses a fish with orange sauce very similar to the dish he remembers as delicious. Waiting for the food to come, he looks at his distorted, upside-down self on the metal surface of his spoon. He gazes at it, suddenly aware that the piece of metal in his hand will be on earth, useful and strangely alive, for more time than he will. But when his dead fish arrives, he doesn’t think of it anymore. He would never compare himself to a fish, an unpleasantly odorous fish. He feels definitely closer to silverware.
After lunch his son calls to say that he’s going to spend the day at his friend’s home. He will help his classmate with math – Mr. Tausek is proud of his son for being the best student in math - and he will be back by seven. Mr. Tausek, a man of principles, says: “Good boy. Always helping your friends.”
He goes to his study room. Mr. Tausek is reorganizing the clippings that he collects since the first time his name appeared on a newspaper (that was 1951, months before his graduation, when he was working as a research assistant). The clippings used to be organized chronologically, but he decided to sort them out by order of importance instead. It’s essential and logical that his biggest accomplishments stand in the end.
To please Daniel, who until now has never had the curiosity to see his father’s collection, he’s thinking of putting his son’s birth as his last entry: being a father at the age of sixty says more of a man than being the dean of the state college. Observing all the clippings on the table one can see that Mr. Tausek’s life stops at the age of sixty-seven, in a note with a small photo published when the academic community paid him homage for his achievements.
While shuffling the ocher-smelling papers, he looks at the pictures and doesn’t recognize himself. Although he has some recollection of the things that have happened, he doesn’t feel as if they have happened to him. Except Daniel, who is surely his, all seems foreign. He feels as if he’s looking through the mirror, but not exactly looking: he’s being looked at. Perhaps, he thinks, there is a double somewhere. Everything is bogus nowadays.
He goes to the mirror and looks at himself. He knows there’s nothing inside the mirror, but he takes it off the wall just to be sure. Flat, as he suspected. He goes to the window stepping backwards and sees the world through the mirror, trying to catch a hidden incongruence. He looks and looks and sees nothing unusual. But he knows there’s something wrong somewhere. Perhaps one day he’ll find out what it is.
At 7:00 pm, while Mr. Tausek is watching TV, the telephone rings. Mr. Tausek is familiar with Daniel’s behavior, and, knowing that it’s not good news, is reluctant to answer. He knows exactly what Daniel will ask him, and he’s not willing to say yes.
“Dad, can I stay over?”
“No.”
“Please, dad.”
“Out of the question.”
“Hang on.”
A female voice enters the line: “Hiii, I’m Pedro’s mother. I know you are a very diligent father but it’s good for Daniel to stay out sometimes. It’s a way to grow up.”
“Sorry, we’ve got rules in our house.”
“I don’t mean to tell you how to handle your child, but don’t you think you’re being overprotective?”
“No. Can I have Daniel on the phone, please?”
“Sure, Mr. Tausek.”
“Yes, dad,” Daniel mumbles.
“Be ready in fifteen minutes. I’m coming to pick you up.”
Mr. Tausek goes to pick up Daniel. When he arrives the boy is outside the building, sitting on the front stairs while talking to his friend, Pedro. Mr. Tausek wonders if Pedro really needs Daniel to help him with math. When Daniel gets in the car, his father tries to reason with him.
“You know you can stay over on weekends, but not on weekdays.”
“You never let me go anywhere on weekends.”
“I let you go to the movies with your friends. But occasionally you have to spend some time with your family.”
“We see each other every day!”
“You see your friends almost everyday.”
“But it’s different!”
“Don’t raise your voice, Daniel.”
They arrive at home and Daniel goes straight to his bedroom and closes the door behind him. He turns on his computer. Within minutes, he hears the sound of the blender, muffled by the walls. He knows what’s happening in the kitchen and doesn’t know whether or not to comply. His father opens the door.
“Look, don’t be mad. I made you some milkshake.”
“Thanks.”
Daniel takes the milkshake and gulps it down. While waiting for the empty glass, Mr. Tausek gazes at the computer screen. The screen, black filled with white letters, shows the reflection of Daniel drinking his milkshake. His son, in profile, could be any of the men of his family: the projected forehead, the aquiline nose. The acne, erased by the dark projection, is the only way to tell he’s thirteen. He seems much older now; he has the profile of a grown man. Daniel looks at his father and seems annoyed. “Hey, do you mind?”
“Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Mr. Tausek takes the empty glass and goes toward the door. “If you need anything…”
“I know, I know.”
Mr. Tausek closes the door behind him. On the way to the kitchen he stumbles on a loose tile and falls with a thud. Almost instantly Daniel opens the door of his room and lunges forward with eyes wide open.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
Mr. Tausek explains that there’s a loose tile on the floor. Daniel comes closer and, while helping his father up, takes the glass from his hands.
“Luckily it didn’t break, but you better be careful. I’ll take it to the kitchen. Go to your bedroom to rest”, says Daniel.
Mr. Tausek bends to look at the loose tile, taking his reading glasses from his pocket and putting them on his nose. He stomps on the tile to make it fit the floor again. Daniel goes back to his room. Mr. Tausek goes to his bedroom, sits at his desk, takes a sheet of paper from his drawer and writes.
TUESDAY:
1 – Call flooring company.
He stands up and goes towards his bed. Then he stops, looks back, and sits at his desk again.
2 – Throw away the mirrors.
The next day, after taking Daniel to school, he lays down, one by one, every mirror hanging in the apartment. Then, with an old screwdriver and some other tools, he takes off the mirrors from the bathroom cabinets.
Then he completes his task of reorganizing his clippings. Daniel’s picture as a newborn is on the last page. In the photograph, Mr. Tausek and deceased Mrs. Tausek are smiling to the camera, Mrs. Tausek holding little Daniel in her arms. He is sure that the man in the picture is himself; he still remembers the unimportant details, like the color of the baby bag (light blue) and the figure on Daniel’s favorite sheet (a cow). He tries not to look at the other pictures, though, because he cannot be certain that the man in some of them is himself. For brief moments he is certain he is not him; he has seen him before, this other man, he knows him, and that man is a counterfeit. There are two Mr. Tauseks.
At 3:30 pm he goes to pick up Daniel from school. He is in his car, waiting for Daniel to arrive, when he sees his son talking to a friend. He waits patiently in the car while he looks at his son, his lean, tall figure. When Daniel looks back at him and begins walking towards the car, a chill goes up Mr. Tausek’s spine. For there’s no way he can ever be sure that that kid is really Daniel and not a double, not someone trying to steal Daniel’s life the same way the other Mr. Tausek does to him. The teenager looks at his father and grins, holding up a big yellow cup the old man has never seen before.
As if his seventy-three years of life had finally caught up with him, Mr. Tausek feels exhausted. He lets his hands off the steer. Daniel gets in the car.
“Is there something wrong, dad?”
Mr. Tausek sits still, motionless, looking at the road ahead of him through the windowsill. The students are talking, laughing; some of them type messages on their mobile phones. Two siblings hug as if they haven’t seen each other for days. A boy stands alone, looking at his watch. Mr. Tausek summons up his strength to get out of his car. Standing up, he aims for an invisible target and walks, strides, runs, cries for the end of his life.
Back