“Oh, man, this stuff should have been hauled out ages ago. This is like a gas chamber, and I’m not being funny,” Evan said as he rushed to the window with his nose covered and his eyes squinted.
It took some effort, but the window tilted and there was a hint of air. Not satisfied, he came back across and took Shelly’s hand to get her back down the stairs. At the bottom, she could breathe better and stammered about their reaction.
“I’ve been in and out of there this entire week. Inventoried everything just the other day. It has never been like that, ever!”
“Well, something in there is leaking and until it clears out we shouldn’t try to find out what. You must have disturbed some cartons that didn’t like being moved,” he said. She noticed he still held her hand and was looking at it, realizing it was the wrong hand to search for any ring.
“No, I’m not married, Stupid,” she smirked at him. It was fun, catching him at his game.
“That is the second time you’ve called me stupid and you are the one standing under a dangerous chemical bomb,” he poked her nose.
She let him get away with it and that was all the permission he needed. They had struck a silent bargain; lightly intimate touching was accepted and they were both very comfortable about it.
“Why am I here today, Shelly?” he asked. He still held her hand.
She explained it all very well, taking a lot of time to do it, and gave him a walkthrough of the entire shop and the studios. He was perfectly impressed. He was amazed at the vast gathering of family heirlooms and that this young lady was being as true to the history as possible. He appreciated that about her. Whatever she was planning, it was going to be so properly done it would rattle New York.
“Then, you want to learn photography the way your great-grandfather did it? Why not just take a course, like I’m doing?” he asked her, as they sat on the divan, enjoying the change of light as the afternoon sun began to fill in a spot on the boards. She laughed at him and accused him of taking a course he obviously did not need at all, and his family name proved it. That camera standing in the shop near the great window was another proof. Anyone who carried a hundred year old Waterbury around for casual exposures was faking the need for a class. He just smiled a tiny bit. She told him they owned another Waterbury, and it was worshiped by the clan and never used. She wanted to change that forever and make the box her gift to her Papa, by bringing it back to life in the studio.
“You’re going to re-open as a portrait shop?” he seemed incredulous.
She really laughed at him for that. But, no that was not what she planned, but the plans for the camera were exactly what she intended to do.
“I’ve heard about your family’s Waterbury,” he stunned her.
But it was easily explained. It was famous after all, the camera that drove Papa Reisman to abandon photography, and he made some of the most important portraits in the city’s history. His lenses took most of the who’s-who photos in the history books. But Evan wanted to know - did Papa never, ever use the box, as the legend would have it?
“That is one secret, Evan, I wouldn’t tell you for anything. Some ghosts will not be disturbed by anyone.”
“Good subject…ghosts. Are the stories about this building true?” he looked around, as if he might see one standing in the doorway. Shelly burst into giggles.
“I thought suddenly it was when we tried to breathe upstairs. That was awful, and unexpected. And that room is the center of all the haunting stories in the family. It was truly weird. Thank you for getting us out of there,” she lowered her eyes. He took it as a very thoughtful gesture, and told her she could repay his saving of her life, by having dinner with him. She stunned him then.
“Oh, that’s taken care of. We’re eating here. Just as soon as I call the pizza.” Evan decided it would be well worth any parking ticket already waving on his car out front.
They spent the remaining afternoon looking over her inventory listing and he highlighted the items that were decidedly dangerous. They really needed to call someone for help because it was a seriously poisoned room, now the fumes had escaped their containers. Evan kept saying it could have burned the place to the ground two generations ago; it was that dangerous. But some of the things up there were very valuable. The parts for instance, should be catalogued, and the collectors would be beating down the door to get at them.
Most of the dry chemicals were still good; those would last nearly forever in the heavy glass jars that contained them. It was the cartons of old film stocks he suspected of causing the dangerous atmosphere; those were rotting the way dynamite does, leaching chemicals as they evaporate. He actually scared Shelly when he told her; she should be concerned for all the heirlooms until the room was made safe again. She made them stop what they were doing and start calling around right after that, arranging for professionals to come to the shop and look things over for her.
The light was beginning to wane when they went back to the front of the shop and looked at the tiny darkroom closet. Evan was the first to step inside and whistled at the condition of the room. It was wonderful to see. Leaving the door open, Shelly stepped in behind him, so close she could feel his warmth, and peered over his shoulder as Evan pointed out the objects on the bench and the shelves. She told him the closet waited empty until a week before, when a begrudging family member came back and filled it up. She only guessed where things would have been arranged. He complimented her guesswork; with the proper chemicals, the closet was quite ready to be used again.
“Does this room still work?” she asked, and he laughed at her in the kindest way. She was close enough to feel his laughter on her skin and it closed her eyes and almost made her moan. She wanted desperately to close the closet door and bury them in the beautiful darkness, which seemed to want them inside.
“All this room has to do is keep out the light. It doesn’t do anything else.”
“But how do you see what you are doing in here?” she asked him.
She noticed an uncontrollable urge to put her arms around him, lay her cheek against his back and listen to that wonderful voice while she felt his breathing warmth. The urge touched her and washed through her so quickly she repeated the question, almost numb. He looked back over his shoulder with questioning eyes, was she all right? She nodded, yes, she was fine, would he please just turn around so she could put her arms back around him and would he just breathe her name in very soft whispers as she listened to the sound fly in slow circles around his heart….
“Shelly? Are you okay?” Evan was pushing her out of the closet, gently but with some strength. He tried to put an arm around her shoulder to steady her; she seemed about to fall back. They just stood there for a moment while her eyes cleared; they had not been seeing him at all.
“I think we should go sit back down for a bit. Did you have any lunch? Are you pregnant?” That did not really stir Shelly to respond to him either; she was still very near to faint in his arms.
“Are there fumes in the closet too?” she asked him a bit later. She was lying down on the divan in the studio and he was next to her, sitting on the floor. He was holding her hand and she really needed it, but could he take her back and close the door this time?
“No. The room is too small to store things like that. You just prepare what you need for the job you are doing. Keeps the fumes down in the studio, too. Can’t take good images if your clients are all watery eyed and gasping.”
“Then what the hell is wrong with me today?” she asked herself.
He could not possibly answer because he could not possibly know she wanted him so desperately in the closet, she almost died.
“You didn’t answer me when I asked you about the ghosts this building is supposed to hide,” he looked at her, quite seriously. “I would say you have been good and spooked, twice,” he shifted her hand to catch the other one too. He noticed she like it a lot. “Ever happened before in here?”
“No. Never has.” But she was trembli
ng now and could not hide it. “What the hell do you mean, am I pregnant?” she fumed as she shivered.
He laughed and did not try to explain it; it was just too stupid a statement to bother about it. While she lay on the divan and recovered her wits, he began to tell her how a photographic plate was changed from a square of sturdy glass into an object able to capture an image, and hold it forever, or nearly that at least. She was fascinated.
He was very curious why the shop stored all the materials for that type of work, years after they were any use. There was a lot of wasted money up there in that room and it could have cost them the building. Shelly could only guess; as the family grew larger, sometimes people who did not care held the building. The ones, who did care, assumed the others who didn’t…did. Just a lazy family, she summed it all up.
Evan said he would feel much better once the HAZMAT folks popped in with their suits. Oh, and there would be the fine to pay, and contaminated cleanup fee the city would charge, and the shipping fee. Shelly should get a move on to sell off those camera parts upstairs and hope they covered the cost. The Reisman clan should have known better. A few puffs of smoke could have brought them all crashing to earth.
He suddenly announced it was either time to go to dinner, or have it delivered, or go home annoyed the date had gone wrong, just because of some deadly fumes, and a ghost that wanted inside Shelly Reisman when she stood in the darkroom closet, with a man. She made the perfect choice, as far as he was concerned, when she picked up the phone and ordered the pizza.
By the time they had eaten their fill it was quite dark out. Shelly invited him to follow her as she wandered the shop, and he really freaked out but was not about to let it show. She was serious. After the haunting in the closet, she wanted to wander the place in the dark? This was going to take more courage than he needed for several of his other crazy girlfriends. He simply did not want to go along and she was already up, barefoot and pulling him into the darkness among the hundred year old furnishings. He was creeped out long before they got near the closet again, he hoped she was not taking him back in there, in the dark.
The place was silent and she made no more noise barefoot than a sigh. There was no light in the very front, she had moved the pole, and turned the street light away from the building, though the electrician said the city would turn it right back. The front of the shop was the darkest place he thought she could wander, and she was dragging him right along behind her.
They were surrounded by the oldest furnished building he could get into that was not a museum, and people actually died in the place, and rumors were some of them perished in a gruesome way, and it was nearly more than he could endure. Without realizing it, he was hesitating and pulling her back to the only light he could see, and it was a long way back over to it.
“Is this some kind of test, Shelly?” he said as his legs became heavier than they usually were. She turned around suddenly and caught him into her arms and her blouse was not there, and she whispered in his ear as she pulled him very close and tugged up his shirt,
“It just might be.”
Shelly was seriously creepy, but he could endure the darkness and the fright to let her have his mouth when she reached to bite his lip.
A moment later when the street light came on outside, the shop was bathed in the most beautiful sepia glow from the paper on the window. Evan was spellbound in that light. She led him to a bundle of tarps and sheet coverings she brought in with some of the original display cabinets, and she pulled him down next to her and began to nibble on his neck. He could barely resist the urge to wet his pants from fear, and she was trembling; she scared the hell out of him, but he liked the way she was about to make up for it.
She was creepy, she breathed in his ear, but she was not a harlot, and she laughed at the word when she said it. It was completely unlike her, but he had touched her too many times, the sensations giving her chills, she told him she wanted more. He was warned, he could get as worked up as he liked, but he was going home lonely, she would kill him if he tried to muscle her into any other bargain. He agreed. He was not stupid enough to be sent home yet, dead or otherwise. Aunt Dannie was going to get some roses in the morning, too. Shelly would get hers first.
The smallest beep that could possibly be heard roused them when midnight arrived and her watch told them to wake up. They had played enough to be really worn out from the frustration, and were dozing in a warm embrace they really did not want to disturb. But it was the witching hour. She pulled him by his chin to the middle of the room and then slipped away to begin her dance on the polished boards. She stood free of him, embraced her building again, and turned in graceful pirouette; her delicate bare feet whispering on the floor.
Evan, spellbound, watched her turn in the liquid light, her breasts still free, and her blouse trailing her in her turns. This was a stunning young woman, perfectly comfortable in his presence, and she made a mark upon his heart it longed to find. When she slowed and faced him, her smiling eyes beckoned; he knew he would give his every moment to her.
Shelly made him promise to come back, but did not bother to say when. As they walked back to the studio, Evan wondered out loud if an image of the sepia glow could be captured, how long the exposure would take. It would be an unbelievable image if taken with a color plate. He had not seen light of that quality he could remember. But she corrected him, they were heading to the closet to be haunted when the light in the studio was reaching the same rich honey color, it was merely the sunset in there, not the streetlight. He was chilled all over again, thinking of her reaction in the tiny darkroom space. The building was not the only thing haunting Evan that night. She was haunting him too.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Evan was a hit with the family. He wandered about the studio nearly every day in the next few weeks, but they did not always hang out there. Shelly was quick to share her prize with everyone. Aunt Dannie was spreading rumors about them faster than they could make them come true. When he asked Shelly a few weeks later to drive upstate with him for a weekend, the clan women began the long march to a wedding date. Shelly was happily furious.
“Dannie, I’m going to play with luscious Evan until I get sick of him and throw him out just to spite you,” Shelly lied. “You’re a witch, you know that?”
“Go ahead and rant sweetie. He just got invited to Grandma’s for Thursday and he gets to come whether you agree or not. I’m going to invite him myself tomorrow after class. Can you believe his still shows up? But he’s good as stuck in the goo with us now, Tiddles. You might as well just hitch on!”
Her aunt was taunting her.
Shelly did not want Evan alone, anywhere near that batch of hags, and she would prevent it, she just needed to find out a way. She would have to give in the very next day, in spite of herself and her anger at Dannie, because Grandma Beth was rumored to be attending, and delivering the Reisman Waterbury. Shelly was captured and sunk. They had succeeded in pulling her feet right out from under her, and would have Evan there to watch her land on her rump. Dannie was in so very much trouble.
It began with a rousing round of kisses and pinches. Evan was in mortal danger soon as he walked in the door at Sareta’s. If he had been for sale the Reisman hags would have started the bidding at eight thousand. They devoured the poor boy. Shelly did not get near to even touch him until they sat down to dinner. But even with the uproar as he came in the door, the silence was profound as the prayer was sung. Unlike Shelly’s last visit, the mood did not return to the frivolity and Evan-hunt it had been when the sweet prayer song ended, the ladies stayed somber. The first order of business, before the meal, was the unveiling of the fabled camera. Papa Reisman must have been standing in the room as well; it was actually chill.
Grandma Beth, the eldest of the entire clan, Papa’s youngest child, had brought a simple leather case to her place at the table. When the prayer ended, she stood up without a word, and put both her hands on the case. Shelly almost made a rude noise, to
lighten the mood, but she would have been eye-daggered to death in front of Evan. She kept her sniggers to herself as the case was lifted and the Waterbury sat looking back at them. Shelly was correct, it was almost perfect twin to the Bryant box.
“Oh, my God!” came a soft voice in the group; it was Evan, and Shelly was mortified he was the first to speak.
It was an insult to Beth, and Shelly was jealous he beat her to it.
“It really did survive, and we always thought it was just a hoax!”
Evan was entirely sincere. He did not mean to offend anyone at all, he just spoke his heart when he saw the box, and did not speak his mind, which knew better manners.
“Care to explain that remark?” glared Grandma Beth.
She had not brought a bowling ball to the table, but you would think he just called it that to her face. All eyes were on him and Evan just kept hanging himself, because he was still taken aback; he had believed his entire life the Reisman’s were full of the proverbial shit - so to speak.
“It has just stayed so well hidden, never leaving family hands. There are collectors who vow to get this box from the family, and the price we hear is just outrageous. They just aren’t hammering on you because you don’t show it off enough. They don’t believe you have it any more.”
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