by C. S. Kane
“That’ll have to do,” I said to myself, pausing for a moment to decide my next course of action. Library, I decided, and grabbed my books to head off for a couple hours of solitude before my first shift.
10
I pushed through the door to the shop a little too roughly and yelled as my books tumbled out of my arms and onto the floor.
“Wow, you’ve been hitting the books today then,” Marty said as he hopped over the counter to help me pick them up.
“Something like that. I went to the library and tried to study but I’ve had one of those blocked-brain days.”
“His Highness is up in his tower and he has left that big crate of drinks for you to replenish,” Marty said as he pointed to a six-foot wire crate that had been wheeled out from the storeroom.
“Great,” I said as I shoved my books and coat under the till.
“That’s not the worst of it…they have to go in the refrigerated display cabinet so your hands will be numb.”
“Just gets better.”
“Well, at least he is leaving in t-minus two hours so I’ll give you a hand.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been stacking shelves since I was fifteen.”
“Glad to hear it,” Harry said as he emerged from between the shelves.
“All right, boss,” Marty said nervously.
“Fine, Marty,” Harry sneered. “Stacey, I trust you can find something productive to do after you’ve finished that little job?”
“Of course, Harry.”
“Good, because I’m leaving early. See you at your trial review.” He threw on his raincoat and plodded out of the shop.
“Oh happy day,” Marty sang as he threw his hands up in the air.
I gave him the thumbs-up. Marty turned on his heels and bounded down the sweetie aisle.
“What are you doing?” I yelled after him.
“Cranking this place up, mate.”
The sound of strings, guitars and drums blared from the CD player. In an instant, my mood was lifted immeasurably.
Marty and I engaged in small talk for a while, listening to the Manics, and he asked me if I was new to the area.
“My fiancé and I just moved into a new place,” I told him.
Marty grabbed an apple from under the counter and bit into it. “Where is it?”
“Claremont Street.”
“You’re shittin’ me, right?”
“No…24 Claremont Street.”
“Oh my God! That’s the worst street in town.”
“What do you mean?” I said, leaving the unstacked bottles and walking toward him. Marty leaned forward over the counter. “My sister is a police officer and she told me when I moved here that under no circumstances could I walk through that street on my own.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s notorious. She gets calls there every other day. It’s where they place all the sex offenders.”
“What?” I gasped.
“They gotta put them somewhere and that street is literally a nest for them.”
I raised a hand to my mouth. “I have to walk home tonight. Liam’s working late.”
“I’ll walk you home. I’d rather make sure you get in safe and sound. After you’re in the door, I’ll run like hell.”
“Thank you, Marty. I appreciate it.”
“No probs, Stacey. Can you do me a favor though?”
“Of course.”
“Get the rest of those drinks out or Harry will have me strung up in the morning.”
“Sure, fastest stacking skills in the West. You’ll be amazed.”
11
I flopped down on the sofa and sighed. The flat was still freezing. I could see my breath escape from my mouth. I leaned down and took off my shoes to give my throbbing feet a reprieve, rubbing them vigorously to try to warm them up, but the cold was bone deep.
Creak! Creak!
I jumped out of my skin. The creaking had seemed impossibly close, like someone was walking around our flat. Maybe an intruder, or one of the sex offenders Marty had alluded to.
I heard a sharp intake of breath, and it took me a moment to realize it was my own.
I cocked my ear and waited for a moment, listening.
The sound grew louder, but I realized the noise was coming from outside our flat. It must be the people downstairs. I didn’t even know we had any neighbors. I headed into the hall, opened the door to the top of the stairs, leaned my head around the door frame, and looked down the dark staircase but the creaking had suddenly stopped.
I sat for a while in silence and chided myself for being so paranoid.
* * *
My eyes fluttered between pitch-black and the garish yellow color of our bedroom ceiling. A metallic, bitter smell assaulted my nose. The room was hot. My skin was sticky and sweaty. I took a deep breath and pushed myself up, resting on my elbows. I tilted my head to the side and scanned the entire length of the wall, noticing a series of ink blotches.
My eyes widened, my heart pounded.
Somehow I knew what they were.
The liquid arcs.
The droplets exploding outward from thick smudges and fingertip trails.
Blood.
The room was dripping, saturated in smeared blood.
* * *
I screamed as I bolted upright in bed.
“Honey, what is it?” Liam said, grabbing me.
“A nightmare. Just a nightmare.”
“It’s all right, it’s over,” Liam said as he cradled me softly. “Lie down, it’s okay.”
I lay quietly. Liam stroked my hair until finally his gentle dozing became full-fledged sleep and his breath became heavy and slow. I listened to the rhythmic sound of his slumber as I stared once again at the bedroom ceiling and eventually drifted back to sleep, haunted by visions of blood.
12
I ambled down The Avenue slowly, exhausted and troubled by the amount of work I had to do on my thesis, thoughts of the awful nightmare still fresh in my mind. I passed a shop window and caught a reflection of myself, painfully aware of the dark circles beginning to emerge under my eyes, my unkempt hair and pallid gray skin. In the space of a few weeks, I had begun to look ill.
I gazed past my reflection and into the shop, which I’d never noticed before. I stepped back and looked at the sign.
“New Waves,” I read aloud.
I decided to go in and have a look. There was something inviting about the lavender and lilac hues of the color scheme. As I pushed through the door, I heard a jangle of chimes and the stifling heat hit me immediately.
The room was thick with the smoke and smell of incense. I scanned the crowded shelves adorned with crystals, quartz, candles, and other strange objects.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something hanging from the ceiling, swaying gently—a large crimson circle formed out of willow with three smaller but otherwise identical circles suspended from it. Interlacing twine created a web within each circle, accented by grand black feathers. A Dreamcatcher.
“Can I help you?” a voice said behind me.
I turned to see a young woman standing behind the till. “How much for the Dreamcatcher?” I asked.
She pulled her long brown hair over her right shoulder. “Ten pounds for that one.”
“I’ll take it.” I reached up and removed it from its hook.
“I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“No, I just moved here. My name is Stacey.”
“Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Hope.” She gave me the once-over.
“Nice to meet you. I’ll just take this please, Hope.” I was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable with the interest she was taking in me.
“No, Stacey, you won’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you to take this instead,” she said, producing a small pendant.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A talisman of sorts. A pure silver chain with a little clasp
that houses a gem.”
“I don’t understand. You don’t even know me.”
“The gem is a Tiger’s Eye—for your protection. I can see a cloud hanging over you, friend, and I want…no, I need you to take it.” She pressed the object firmly in my hands.
“Hope, forgive me, but this doesn’t make any sense.”
“It will in time. Promise me you will wear it at all times. And here, take my number. If you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, call me. Anytime.”
The girl seemed a bit unhinged. “All right, thanks,” I said, hoping it might placate her.
“Remember.”
“May I pay for this now?”
“Of course,” Hope said, taking the money for the Dreamcatcher.
“Good luck, Stacey,” she called to me as I headed for the door.
“Uhm, thanks,” I shouted back as the chimes jangled and the clasp of the pendant dug into my palm.
13
When I reached Claremont Street, I noticed a newspaper lying on the steps of the house next door. I also realized we hadn’t called in with the neighbors to say hello yet. I bent down and picked up the plastic-wrapped Ballast Telegraph and trotted up the steps. It was at that point the skies opened and the rain began to fall heavily. I rapped the door urgently. After a minute, I realized no one was going to answer so I shoved the paper under the mat. I sure as hell wasn’t going to hang about in a torrential downpour. With a final glance toward the window, I headed back down the steps and rushed into my building.
I entered the flat and shook the rain off my shoulders. Something was different. There was a strange noise. A rattling. Like a marble in a box.
“Oh my God!” I cried and ran over to the nearest heater. “It’s fixed.”
I pulled my hand away from the radiator as the heat pulsated through my icy palm.
I grappled for my mobile phone as I darted into the kitchen to check the cooker.
“Liam, Jake Clarke must have sent the plumbers around,” I shouted down the phone as he answered.
“Hallelujah,” he replied. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes. We finished early today. I’m just in The Avenue.”
“I’ll put the curry on now. Woo hoo, a working hob,” I cried as the ring on the stove ignited.
I jammed my phone into my cardigan pocket and grabbed some pots out of the unpacked kitchen box.
“One vegetable curry coming up.”
I hastened the peppers, onions, mushrooms, and frozen peas into the wok. A seductive sizzle erupted and the smell of freshly cooked food wafted into the kitchen. I twisted the jar of curry paste and cooked it out for a few minutes. It was spicy and warm. Tinned tomatoes and coconut milk finished the curry and I tipped a mountain of rice into a boiling pot of water.
As I stood and watched the water turn murky from the starchy bubbles, I gently clasped the pendant Hope had given me, and rolled the little gem cage between my fingers.
I had never experienced such a strange encounter in my entire life. It was as though she knew me. She had also seemed alarmed. Scarily so. I didn’t really believe in all that hokum-pokum stuff. I bought the Dreamcatcher on a whim. The nightmares had been driving me to distraction. Maybe Hope really believed in the stuff she was selling—she certainly thought the pendant would help me.
“Damn it,” I hissed as a throb paced at the side of my head.
I put the palm of my hand against my temple. It was a dull pain like a radiating, deep spark of an ember in a fire about to ignite. I took a glass of water and threw some dissolvable painkillers into it. As I swallowed each gulp, I gazed out of the window at a dark, unflinching canvas of bleakness.
“Something smells good,” Liam said as he snuck in behind me, jolting me from my thoughts. “It’s good to smell something fresh in this flat.”
“Speaking of which, I think a shower is in order.” I turned and began to plate up the dinner.
Liam grinned as he poured two glasses of deep red wine.
I handed him a bowl of piping-hot curry.
We sat on our small sofa and started to enjoy our first proper home-cooked meal in the flat..
“So…how’s the new job then?” I asked as I took a sip of wine.
“It’s good. Hard but good. But I’m in a lot better place than I was working at Compass. And I like the people a whole lot better.”
“Oh that’s great, honey.”
“What about you? What have you been up to?” Liam asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I said as breezily as I could.
“Glad to hear it,” Liam said as he poured himself another glass of wine.
I grabbed my own goblet and took a large swallow. A tingling buzz began to swell through my body. The portable TV blared away in the background. I gazed down at my bowl, searching for a mushroom. I stopped short. Goose bumps had erupted across my entire forearm.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I heard Liam say.
“I’m…I’m…cold,” I answered involuntarily.
“Are you joking? It’s roasting in here. The radiators are practically bouncing off the walls.”
“I know, but I’m chilled to the bone,” I stammered.
“Maybe you’re coming down with something. Go get the shower started and I’ll grab you some towels.”
I heaved myself off the sofa and a wave of nausea swept over me. I steadied myself against the walls as I made my way to the bathroom. My head was spinning. A hot shower will sort me out. I flicked the bathroom light switch and shrieked.
“What is it!?” Liam shouted, bounding toward me.
“Look at the shower!” I screamed.
I could tell from his expression that he was as disgusted as I was. Clumps of rancid muddy brown fungi were sprouting up from the drain, climbing up and over one another, rising higher and higher until they met the dark green streaks of mold that cascaded down from the top of the glass panes. The smell of rot exploded from the dank corner.
“I’ll sort it out, sweetheart.”
“No, just leave it. I’m calling environmental health on Monday. This place is a bloody death trap,” I snapped.
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m going to do the dishes,” I mumbled.
“I’ll do them. You’ve done enough today.”
“I may as well let one part of my anatomy touch hot water tonight. I don’t mind. Go in and watch your program.”
“Can’t argue with you, can I?”
“Not a chance.”
I filled up the sink with scalding hot water and washing-up liquid. I plunged my wineglass deep under the water as I looked through the window into the blackness. I stopped scrubbing when I noticed a small impression in the right-hand corner of the windowpane—a crack. I hadn’t noticed it before, and I couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it.
As soon as my finger hit glass, the crack began to grow, spreading across the entire surface of the window.
I looked down at my other hand and saw a stream of blood flowing into the kitchen sink. Shards of glass floated on the surface. The suds were stained crimson.
“Liam!” I screamed.
He bounded into the room.
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” He removed my hand from the sink and wrapped it in a dishcloth.
“Yes, I just…the water is too hot. The wineglass cracked…the window, look at the window.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the window,” Liam said in a soothing voice.
I looked up and saw he was right. No crack. Only the blackness of the night.
“But…it was all over the pane. It was cracked. It looked about ready to shatter.”
“You’ve had a brave shock. Go get into bed, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I made my way to the bedroom and crawled into bed. The shivers began in earnest and did not stop the entire night.
14
We walked arm in arm down the steps from the house and out into the cold night air. The street seemed quiet and calm. I ca
st my eyes back to the towering edifice, glad to be getting out of it at least for the evening. As we passed our next-door neighbors’ house, their front light suddenly flicked off and the curtains on the window rippled with movement. Are they watching us coming and going? I thought with a shiver.
“Are you all right?” Liam asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go. I don’t want to be late getting to Joe’s place,” I replied as we turned our backs on the house.
* * *
Our friend Joe had been studying at King’s Art College for two years already; he and Liam had known each other since junior school. He had eventually become a good friend of mine as well. Both Liam and I had been delighted that he had agreed to be best man at our wedding—provided we ever managed to save enough money to have one, that is.
We walked briskly together, chatting casually about Liam’s job. He popped in and grabbed some takeaway for us all as I waited outside on The Avenue. We always brought Joe food. I was ever worried that our friend didn’t eat enough. We reached his apartment building in good time and Joe buzzed us in.
We caught up with each other for a while over dinner, watched a movie, and then Liam and I got up to brave the cold night air once again.
Liam handed me my coat.
“Guys, you would be better heading down the fire-escape stairs. They lead you straight out onto the main road,” Joe said.
“Good thinking,” Liam replied.
We gathered our stuff and headed down the hallway to the fire door. The metal of the steel mesh on the exterior stairs rattled as we hopped onto it.
“Thanks for hosting movie night, mate,” Liam shouted.
“No problemo. Just give me a call next week and be safe going home.”
“Cheers.”
“If home is what you’d call it,” I muttered.
I grabbed onto the railings of the metal stairs and the coldness of it almost burned my hand. My mind clicked and rotated—something was troubling me. As my leather boot reached the soft soil of the ground, it hit me like a truck.