The Man with the Stool

1. A table for six

Teo had been told not to invite anybody. The instruction arrived while he held a board Inés wanted to add to the courtyard table. Alba insisted six people fitted perfectly well. Nico attempted to demonstrate this with six plates and an empty serving dish. The board tilted and struck the sideboard.

“Hold your end,” Inés said.

He was holding it. He said nothing because he had also pushed a little, testing its strength. Once the board was level, he went into the entrance hall for the stool they used when changing the light bulb. It was narrow, dark wood, with white paint marking one leg.

Alba had suggested dinner to welcome two new neighbours. The first guest arrived alone. The second brought two people who apparently already had plans with him. Nobody wanted to begin with arithmetic on the threshold. Inés added two glasses. Teo went looking for another chair.

A man in a green shirt waited on the landing, carrying a cloth bag. He pointed at the stool.

“That’s mine.”

Teo looked at the white mark. Months earlier they had found it beside the electricity meters and a note saying “Take away”. Since then it had served for rehearsals, reaching a cupboard and holding a plant. He had meant to sand it, but never found a sufficiently free afternoon.

The man said the note referred to boxes. The stool had been beside them. He had been away for a while and could not find it when he returned. Teo handed it over with a hurried apology. The man inspected a leg and asked about the seat.

There was a small burn in one corner. Teo remembered a candle during rehearsal and the decision to cover the damage with a cup. He admitted responsibility.

“I can repair it.”

“I’m in a hurry now.”

The man lifted it under his arm. His cloth bag contained plates. Teo wished him a good dinner and returned to the courtyard empty-handed.

2. The occupied place

His place had vanished. A woman in red sat where he had left his napkin, telling a joke. Nico occupied the end of the board and held his plate in one hand. Alba shifted the salad to fit another glass.

“The stool?” Inés asked.

Teo explained. The woman in red interrupted her joke to say she owned something similar. For a while everyone wanted to know whether it folded, whether they could borrow it and how many floors someone would have to climb. Teo preferred standing.

The bell rang during his first mouthful. The man in green was still downstairs. He had left his bag somewhere and now held the stool in front of him with both hands.

“I’m not bringing it back,” he said before Teo spoke. “Could I borrow sandpaper?”

Teo went to look. The man followed into the courtyard and paused by the door. Nico assumed he needed a seat and asked everyone to move. The woman in red shifted her plate. Inés removed a bucket. The stool found space between two chairs.

By the time Teo returned with the toolbox, its owner was trying the salad.

“They told me to sit for a moment.”

His name was Marcos. He lived opposite, though nobody remembered seeing him. The woman in red assumed he accompanied the new neighbour; that neighbour thought he knew Teo; Nico was sure he had heard he was somebody’s brother. Marcos denied every connection and asked for bread.

Teo put the sandpaper aside. It could wait until after dinner. Leaning against the sideboard, he watched the stool occupied by its owner. Everything was perfectly reasonable. Even so, he could not work out what to do with his arms.

3. A small burn

Halfway through the second course Marcos told a joke. The woman in red answered with another. They began disputing which had been told worse. Teo served the remaining food. Each time he approached with a dish, someone asked why he would not sit.

The remaining chair stood at the back of the rehearsal room under a keyboard. Extracting it required disconnecting two cables and moving a box of plates. Teo knew because he had put it there. He said he was fine standing and took an empty dish into the kitchen.

Alba followed. She did not demand an explanation. She opened a cupboard and pointed at clean glasses, then leaned against the worktop.

“You burned his stool.”

“I told him.”

“I thought that was why you were being odd.”

Teo put a glass too close to the edge, moved it back and said it was not that. They had used somebody else’s property for months. Now the owner occupied his place, and he had to repair the seat. He could hear how much worse that sounded aloud.

Alba asked whether he wanted them to throw the man out. An involuntary laugh escaped him. She carried the glasses away and let him finish tidying. She had not solved anything, nor turned it into a lesson.

When he returned, Marcos was showing Inés the damage and describing how to lift the burned layer without sanding too deeply. Teo approached, ready to offer again. The man listened, then asked him to hold the stool.

They worked on the threshold to keep dust away from dinner. Everybody else continued eating. Marcos explained that he had made the stool in a class. It was the only piece he finished before leaving. One leg was short, which was why he always stood it beside a wall.

Teo showed him the white mark. They had added it to identify that leg and position it over a join in the floor. Marcos ran a thumb across the paint.

“I used cardboard.”

He did not say he liked their mark. He did not ask them to remove it. They sanded until the burn could no longer be felt. A lighter patch remained. Teo found wax in a drawer and discovered the tin was empty. Marcos said he had some at home.

Teo brushed dust from his hands over the bucket. Marcos folded the sandpaper with the used side inwards, showing him an edge that remained good. The stain changed colour when they tilted the seat. Teo could not decide whether it looked worse. Marcos ran a finger across the wood and said at least it no longer scratched. They found the empty wax tin’s lid beneath a napkin.

4. The missing place

He returned with wax, two mandarins and a folding chair. Teo accepted the chair without initially understanding whom it was for. Marcos indicated the gap they had made by removing the stool. Both could fit if the woman in red moved her plate slightly closer.

Marcos offered to pay for his dinner. He spoke quietly while they put the wax away, avoiding another public count of the guests. Teo declined. Did Marcos know how to adjust a drum pedal with troublesome sideways movement? He would have to see, the man replied, and promised nothing. They arranged to try on Sunday. It was not an equal exchange. Neither calculated it. Teo wrote the time on the paper used to protect the table while sanding, brushing the dust off first.

They ate dessert with tools still on the table. The courtyard’s owner had not been invited that evening, but called to return a container and stood in the doorway. Teo began to rise. Inés stopped him with a hand on his chair and fetched another seat herself.

The counting started again. Nobody remembered whether they had laid six, seven or nine places. Marcos said he had followed the man with the stool and somebody ought to note that down. Nico found paper and drew arrows between diners. Before finishing, he discovered two mistaken connections and somebody whose name he did not know.

The woman in red was Amalia. She had introduced herself on arrival, but everybody seemed to have filed her under the colour of her clothes. She announced this without anger and requested the drawing. She corrected two arrows, added hers and claimed the pen as payment.

Later Marcos collected plates with an ease that surprised Alba. He knew where the sink was and had located a clean cloth. He did not make a performance of being useful, merely asked which cupboard held serving dishes. Teo pointed out the shelf and began drying beside him.

The stool remained by the door. The wax needed time. Marcos would come tomorrow, or whenever it stopped feeling sticky. Teo handed him the sandpaper. The man tried returning it, but Teo pointed at the seat. Another coat might still be necessary.

When the bell rang again, everyone looked at Nico’s diagram as if it could tell them who was missing. It was an upstairs neighbour asking for quieter voices. She saw the plates, recognised Marcos and asked about the mandarins he had promised her.

Marcos looked at the dessert dish. Amalia had peeled both and distributed the segments. He stood slowly, preparing to explain. The neighbour listened, studied the table and asked whether there was at least some coffee left. Teo went for a cup. Inés reopened the chair she had just folded. Nico drew another arrow, but could not find a place to write the name.