Stephen Clair Mr. Demonstrata Happiness Mr. Demonstrata wants to make his wife so happy. He likes to feel integral to her happiness. He likes to see her happy. But not smug. When she's happy and she's smug, it's like she think she deserves it. Not that she doesn't deserve it, he thinks. But she doesn't need to be smug about it. No, she doesn't need to make a face that says I am the deserving one of all this happiness, giving little or no thought to whether other people share the distinction. Mr. Demonstrata can't make everyone happy. That is asking a lot and even if his wife asked him to please make everyone happy he wouldn't be busting out with confident feelings about his ability to meet that tall order. Because he wants to make his wife happy, he would become frustrated over his inability to heed her request. Because, if, for example, his wife asked him if he could do something he would want to do it for her because he is fairly committed to making her happy. But this - making everyone happy - is asking a lot. Mrs. Demonstrata can do quite a bit. She is capable. But even she, he doubts, could not make everyone happy. But she would never ask that of herself anyway. No, if anything, she knows it is foolish and unnecessary to go around concerning one's self with the happiness of others. Nobody can. No, she would think to herself, I can only be concerned with my own happiness, and that of those I love, at best. Mr. Demonstrata thinks about his wife and every day he wants to make her happy. The thing that made her happy yesterday may or may not make her happy today. It is worth it to him to make his wife happy. When he makes his wife happy it makes him happy. He says to himself, look what I have done. His own happiness comes from her happiness - especially when he has made her happy. When he makes his wife happy and she appears to be acting happy because of some nice compliment he has given her or because all the dishes are washed, dried and put away, he cannot help feeling all is right with the world. When something - or someone - else makes Mrs. Demonstrata happy, when her happiness is derived from some source other than Mr. Demonstrata then it does not make him happy. In fact, if she is happy and he is unable to trace that happiness back to him, he becomes suspicious. This is because when her happiness comes from another source she is smug, almost as if to say, Ha! It could have been you but it wasn't. Mr. Demonstrata is jealous of things that make his wife happy unless they are him. One time, his wife was very happy, so happy he didn't even have an idea why anyone would be that happy and she wasn't telling him why she was so happy which only made her appear to be the most smug ever. She was happy and not because of her husband. How could he be happy, he wondered, if he wasn't making her happy? She was happy and there was nothing he could do but wait. Mr. Demonstrata left the room. In the next room, he waited. He sat on the couch and looked across the room at the loosely filled bookcase where books were falling over because, over time, so many books had been removed from the shelf and not replaced. Given the spaces between them, the books pitched at dramatic angles. Mr. Demonstrata's happy wife was in the other room while he sternly examined the most unloved books in their collection. The popular and interesting books were scattered throughout the house, behind the toilet, between seat cushions, piled on desks and windowsills, and on the stairs. The book Mr. Demonstrata had been reading lately was next to the bed. It was one of his favorites, he admits. Despite the toppling unread books on the shelf, he rereads his favorite book repeatedly. Each time Mr. Demonstrata reads this particular book, he can hardly stand how inspired it makes him feel. He does like to make his wife happy but at the same time it might be asking a lot of one's wife to be made happy solely by Mr. Demonstrata. He ought to read his favorite book for a while, he thinks, and eventually his wife will go to bed and he already knows everything that happens in the book. He is not concerned with what happens in a book but is more interested in what happens to him in the course of reading it. After a short time, Mrs. Demonstrata would drift off to sleep and he would wonder, do I keep reading or say goodnight? Mr. Demonstrata stands up and steps forward. Look at all the books still on the shelf and, turning around, look at the indentation in the couch where I have been sitting. The next morning, he tells himself, I could go through those unread books and decide, once and for all, am I going to read them or not? Mrs. Demonstrata would wake up and she might be happy and she might not. One of the things she is, he explains to himself, is my wife, and he's glad about that. The next morning, Mr. Demonstrata wants to ask Mrs. Demonstrata what made her happy the night before but it will make her defensive because she thinks he'll be insinuating he doesn't approve of her happiness when it is derived from alternative sources. This makes him want to bury his head in his favorite book. But he doesn't do anything. He stands there in the kitchen, now he's looking at the coffee maker, watching the thin brown line that is coffee, a stream of coffee, hot moving liquid, although it appears to be a thick static vertical brown line. At the very least, he hears himself think, it would be good to give some of those unread books a chance. He might find something his wife would enjoy. Quack