4305/17224
I had expected it to take at least a couple of days to finish the jigsaw and maybe have a last minute rush to get the thing down on my last morning here. But in the end a concerted hour long effort this morning got the job done. It was tough and it needed all my mental acumen, but I got there. As I approached the finish the barman who I’ve seen loitering around the puzzle told me that it had been started a few weeks ago by a woman who had feverishly tried to complete it before she left, but had failed (not having the necessary jigsawing skills) but she had predicted, like a smashed up picture John the Baptist, that one would come who would be worthy enough to finish the work. She was right. I was the man from the prophecies.
Annoyingly, but also predictably, as I got to the end I realised that a piece of the jigsaw was missing. It was next to another piece that was badly damaged, so maybe a bird or monkey had stolen it away. Or maybe the lady who had started the puzzle, furious that she would never complete her work had taken it so that no one else would have the satisfaction. It took the shine off the achievement (and yes, it is an achievement and not a monumental waste of holidaying time) but I still felt good, although a little bereft. What would I do now?
At lunchtime the barman having seen the completed puzzle high-fived me and shook my hand. He couldn’t believe that I had done it. I was like the King Arthur of this hotel to him. He had genuine respect for me, something I have rarely felt. If only I had known jigsaws were the gateway all along. Then as I walked into the restaurant another guest who had never spoken to me before said, “I can’t believe it. You finished the jigsaw!” She chatted about how annoying it was that there was a piece missing but how impressed she was that I had got the thing done. I was already a legend in the hotel. I imagined they’d all been talking about the mysterious Jigsaw Man, who kept himself to himself, but had an almost supernatural ability to complete complicated jigsaws slightly more quickly than you’d think was possible. Everyone has been so in awe of my jigsawing that they have been too scared to talk to me. I felt that this story would be talked about at this hotel for generations. I imagined that the completed (with one piece missing) jigsaw might be placed under a glass case for future guests to wonder at and that the myth of the man who had given up time he could have been sunbathing to do it would grow. Perhaps a statue of me might be erected on the island.
I didn’t do the the jigsaw for the fame or the acclaim. I just did it because I like doing jigsaws. But if my success gives people pleasure and inspiration then I will not shun that love.
Later though I couldn’t believe it when I saw another holidaymaker at the little table that the jigsaw was on. To begin with I assumed he was just looking at my work,in stunned admiration, but then I saw that he was dismantling the jigsaw and putting it back in its bag. I was gobsmacked. The jigsaw hadn’t even been finished for 12 hours. I was still on the island. Maybe the statue and glass cabinet thing was unrealistic (slightly), but I had assumed they would at least wait until I went home until they destroyed my life’s work.
I didn’t say anything, but gave the man a look. He must have known I was the Jigsaw Man. I was the talk of the hotel and yet he reacted as if I was a nobody, just a normal non-jigsawing man going to the toilet. He had so little regard for the jigsaw that I think had he arrived here 24 hours ago he might have done the same thing even before the jigsaw was finished. It didn’t bear thinking about, to have got that close and then have my art desecrated.
Of course he couldn’t admit the truth, which was that, having seen the admiration and love that I had created in the hotel he had thought he could get the same by also completing the jigsaw. He hadn’t banked on the fact that no one is interested in the second person to complete a jigsaw nor that the jigsaw was really hard and that unless he was staying here for about six months, then he, a mere jigsaw moral wouldn’t be able to finish it anyway. His hubris would be punished.
I was disbelieving enough that he had dismantled the jigsaw, but was incredulous about what happened next. He took the box and the jigsaw away from the shared lounge, presumably to attempt the jigsaw in his own room. This was against all the rules. Of course we could all finish the jigsaw if it was locked away in our room where we could do it at any time of the day. The whole ethos of holiday jigsawing is that the jigsaw must stay in a place where it is accessible to all, so that a goal-hanger can finish it, or a monkey can eat it, or it can be cleared away by an overzealous cleaner or jealous fellow holidaymaker. This man had disrespected all that is good and holy about jigsawing and if there is any justice he will choke to death in his bed on some jigsaw pieces. In fact I am certain that is what will happen to him.
You should never cross the Jigsaw man.
