by Jennifer Roberts
[John Singer Sargent, “Mr. and Mrs. I. N. Phelps Stokes,” 1897. Metropolitan Museum of Art]
Man around 50 in trenchcoat, with glasses, stands in front of the painting. A woman of about the same age approaches, neither dressed up nor dressed down. They make eye contact.
He: Is good art.
She: Yes. You like Sargent?
He: No, I am Captain.
She, laughing: No, I mean the painter, John Singer Sargent.
He: English?
She: American.
He: Speak English also in America.
She: Yes, we do.
He: I am not know good English. You teach me?
She: Where do you come from?
He: I come Koldova. Speak Koldova. Captain in Koldova army.
She (suspiciously): Really? That’s funny, I never heard of…Koldova. Where exactly is…Koldova? Was it part of the Soviet Union?
He: Yes, we have many onions.
She: Right. Whatever. So how shall I teach you English?
He: You have house?
She: Well, I have an apartment.
He: Is big?
She: Not very.
He: One bedroom?
She: Two, but I turned my daughter‘s room into a study when she went to college.
He: One bed?
She: Yes, only one.
He: I sleep in bed with you.
She: Uh…I guess you would have to.
He: I fuck you.
She: Uh…well…I guess that would be okay.
He: We fuck before or after English lesson?
She: I suppose… both?
He: We fuck also during English lesson.
She: Well, I think—
Cell phone rings in man’s trenchcoat pocket.
He: Hey, Trace. Oh my gosh, you’re kidding! To woman: Tracy got the job! They want her to start next week!
She, grabbing phone: Sweetheart? Dad says you got the job! That is so fantastic. So proud of you. Us? Oh, nothing special. We’re just playing a game we sometimes play. No, not Scrabble. It’s…it’s hard to explain.