“You’re late!” Karen barked.

“I’m here,” Sally answered hurriedly tying a black apron over her waitstaff black and whites.

With a practiced hand she lifted a tray of spicy tuna tartar appetizers. Cheek and jowl, Gallery 57 was packed. Trent the bartender gave Sally a weary nod. Outside of journalists no one hit an open bar more than artsy types. Sally wondered what all the fuss was about this time.

“I heard his agent was going to drop him since his sales went flat.”

“Going flat made him famous I’ll say.”

Her eyes flitted over the installations as she weaved through hungry crowd. The canvases were mostly bare flat smears of gesso with a few black squiggles. When a round faced man stopped her to shovel her tray’s remaining appetizers into his gullet, Sally noticed the random lines and smears. The only thing she understood was the red SOLD sticker.

Sally headed back to the kitchen for another tray. She met Manny on his way out with bruschetta.

“It’s a madhouse. Usually these shows are snooze fest,” Sally said. “What gives?”

“ I heard there’s lots of buzz cause the artist just D I E D,” Manny mouthed the last word and did the sign of the cross.

With a heaping tray of chicken satay, Sally went back into the fray. Hands snatched at the tray greedily. Five feet tall, the larger pieces were the similar to smaller ones. More free form black marks on a white field.

“I like his bold intentionality here. Using a child’s toy a marble dipped in ink. Allowing his canvas to create mood. Stunning.”

“ Of the course the power, so visceral. Shame, such a lost to the art world. Such talent,” an art critic said.

Sally served attendees huddled in loose circles. Her feet were starting to ache in her worn out waiter shoes. Over peanut sauce they gushed praise for the artist’s sensitivity, for his bravado. Sally slipped past the crowd with her tray empty. The final piece was largest. Nearly twelve feet tall, the huge gesso canvas loomed.

“That’s the tragedy. His work encompasses the ennui that enveloped us. After working with marbles he wanted to stretch artistically. He used an actual marble slab covered in heavy body acrylic for this masterpiece.”

“He should have used a bowline. Paint is slippery as blood. Miss, are there anymore of those crab thing?”

“Certainly I’ll check with the kitchen, sir.”

Glancing one last time at the large canvas with a dark red smear, Sally hurried back for seafood puff pastry.