The Secret Vision Board

            When Jane got home from work, she couldn’t find Marvin anywhere. Her husband wasn’t in the kitchen cooking dinner, or in the bathroom cleaning up. He wasn’t watching television in the living room, or taking a nap in their bed. She even climbed up to the third story terrace where they liked to watch the sunset. And from there, she looked down upon the back yard, but nothing. She noticed his truck in the driveway when she pulled in, and since he never went anywhere on foot, he had to be somewhere in the house. There was only one last place to look.

            Jane startled Marvin when she walked down the basement steps. He quickly covered up whatever it was he was doing, and swung his swivel chair in her direction. “Babe! You’re home? I must have lost track of time.”

            “Were you masturbating?” Jane giggled.

            Marvin’s eyes lit up. “No! No, I wasn’t…doing that.”

            “It’s okay.” Jane smiled. “In fact, I’m a bit turned on.”
            “I wasn’t masturbating.”

            “Then what are those?” Jane nodded towards a pile of magazines stacked on his nearly empty workbench.

            “Nothing.”

            “Marvin, it’s ok if you’re looking at porn.” Jane walked towards the bench. “I really don’t mind.”

            “It’s not porn.”

            “Then why are you being so secretive about it?” Jane started shuffling through the magazines—Sports Illustrated, People, Better Living, Time, National Geographic—before noticing a large sheet of cardboard laying flat in the bench. “What the hell are you doing down here?” she asked with suspicion.

            “It’s nothing. Come on, let me buy you dinner.”

            “In a minute.” Jane flipped the cardboard over to discover a collage of photographs pasted to the other side.

            “Alright, you got me.” Marvin threw his hands in the air.

            “How did I get you?” Jane was confused. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

            “It’s my vision board, okay?”

            “Vision board?”

            “Yes, a vision board. I read about it in a self-help book.”

            “Which one?”

            “You know, the one everybody’s always talking about.”

            “Oh, that one. So, tell me about your vision board. What is it exactly that you are visioning?”

            “Well, look at it.” Marvin pointed towards the board. “I’m not sure it needs much explaining.”

            “But I think it does.” Jane pointed to a photo of a locomotive. “Why is there a train on your vision board?”

            “Isn’t it obvious? I want to own a train someday.”

            “I don’t think people own trains.”

            “Vanderbilt owned trains.”

            “I think those were different times. Let’s move on.” Jane pointed to a photo of a basketball. “Do you want to be a basketball player?”

            “No.” Marvin laughed. “Get serious. I’m only five-nine. I want to own the Trail Blazers.”

            Jane laughed even harder. “The Trail Blazers? Yeah, good luck with that.” She walked away from the bench shaking her head. “The Trail Blazers?” she emphasized again, laughing even harder. “I think you have a better chance of owning a train.” She laughed all the way up the stairs.

            The following morning, as Jane was heading out to work, she noticed Marvin’s truck in the driveway. She was immediately concerned. Marvin always left for work before she woke up. Instead of scouring the house, she headed straight for the basement, where she found Marvin. He was sitting at his bench, working on his Vision Board.

            “Why aren’t you at work?” Jane asked.

            “I don’t have to go to work anymore, Babe.”

            “What do you mean you don’t have to go to work anymore?”

            “I have a vision board now.”

            “So?”

            “So, once the vision board becomes reality, I’ll never have to work again. Come look, I’ve added some things.”

            Jane walked over to find more magazine cut-outs pasted on the board. There was a picture of a stack of cash and another of a yacht and another of a cowboy riding a stallion, which was kicking its front hooves high into the air.

            “See,” Marvin assured her, “nothing to worry about.”

            “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

            “What are you talking about, Babe?”

            “How do you think a vision board works?”

            “It’s awesome, Babe. You just put things on the vision board that you really, really, really want, and eventually they come to you. You know, by visioning them.”

            “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“How would you even know? Did you read the book?”

            “Did you read the book?”      

            “Most of it.”

            “Most of it?”

            “Well, up to the part about the vision board. You should really try it, Babe.”

            “I don’t have time for this right now. One of us has to go to work.”

            When Jane came home from work, Marvin was still in the basement, still working on his vision board. Now there were cutouts of swimsuit models all over it.

            “What the hell is that?” Jane asked.

            “Those are the girls I’m going to date someday, Babe.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “All these girls,” Marvin pointed at the numerous women, “I’m visioning that I’ll sleep with them someday.”

            “Shouldn’t you have pictures of me on there? You know—your wife.”

            “But I already sleep with you, Babe. Why would I vision that? The vision board is about visioning things you actually want.”

            Jane stormed up the stairs. She came back an hour later. “Honey,” she said, “I took your advice and made my own vision board.”

            “That’s great, Babe. Let’s see it.”

            “It’s up on the third floor terrace.”

            “The third floor terrace? Why would you make your vision board up there, Babe?”

            “Why would you make yours in the basement?”

            “Touché, Babe. Touché.”

            Marvin followed his wife up to the third floor terrace, where she showed him her vision board, which only had three photos.

            Marvin pointed at the first one. “What’s that, Babe?”

            “That’s a briefcase full of money.”

            “Great vision, Babe. You do understand how this works. And that?” he pointed at the next picture.

            “That’s an insurance policy.”

            “Ok, Babe, that’s kind of weird, but whatever, it’s your vision. And the last one?”

            “That’s a funeral procession.”

            “A funeral procession? Now, Babe, why would you ever vision a funeral process…”

            Before Marvin could finish his sentence, Jane pushed him off the terrace.

            She looked down at his broken body, and then back up, toward the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen.