Caraliza

by Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick

  “Evan they can’t stop me from doing what I want in my own building!” Shelly protested.

  “You aren’t the owner any more than I am. It is your plaything, nothing else. Too many other people can be frightened enough and your ideas are toast. When are you going to tell me the final plan?”

  “Right after we find out what the ghosts want.”

  “Now you are joking, right?”

  “Not for a minute. They are controlling everything now. Because of the image we took with the Waterbury, they have stopped me from even setting foot in the door when I want to.”

  She wanted desperately to tell him about the horrible dreams she was having, of waking up in the shop terrified and not understanding how she managed to get there. She had no control anymore, but she would lose the place if anyone knew. She could not even tell him. Shelly could not do a thing with her building now, not until Evan was able to go back with her.

  “I know I don’t want you to answer this, but did you bring Papa’s chest with you?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is in the back of my car. I left it there after the hospital the other day. Why?”

  “We should look at every piece of paper in that box, and I think I’m ready to see Yousep’s two plates.”

  “Wow, that was sudden!” she widened her eyes.

  “I’m just not happy being controlled. You?”

  Shelly looked at him for a very long moment, and almost told him about the dreams, but shook her head and grabbed for her jeans and blouse so she could go downstairs for the chest.

  The box would have been heavier if the Waterbury had been inside. It was really light otherwise, but the old hinges made it sound like a great, yawning cellar door when opened. Evan had forgotten about that, and laughed, it was somehow creepy and fitting. They were messing with history again, on purpose again, not just accidentally, like the plate of Shelly and the dead girl.

  Evan looked inside for the first time, and saw the two plates Yousep exposed, in their holders, just where Papa Reisman placed them before he lost his mind. If Menashe ever touched them again, there was no way to know. They were held safe in place, upright in their holders to one side, and they took up that entire end. A few papers slipped between them and in the gap against the side of the box, but they did not seem to have moved at all in the passing years.

  It took an hour on Evan’s bed, but they removed and looked at all the photos. There were nearly a hundred. Evan supposed Menashe himself made them all, he could not be found in even one. Three were of the same young boy, just inside the shop, Shelly guessed it might be Yousep, but Evan pointed out the windows were filled with light. They were photos taken in the first five or six years.

  Only one other photo might have been Yousep, but it was impossible to be sure. It was in the sunlit back garden. This boy was planting a rose bush in a small plot. There was no way to tell what period in the shop’s life this image had even been taken. The boy was tall, very dark, and looked very much a person of the early nineteen hundreds. He looked very happy to Shelly.

  “Oh, shit, Sweetheart. Look at this,” Evan thrust over an image and was trembling slightly. “This is you!”

  “You’ve seen too many spooky movies, this is not me! We know this woman, Sarah. I look like her because she’s Papa’s wife. We owe all our history to her. She kept the family running when Papa was not able to. That’s the earliest photo I’ve ever seen of her. She’s beautiful!”

  Evan seemed relieved. Another ghost would have been a bit too much for him.

  “She’s hot,” he mistakenly admitted.

  Shelly bit him on the arm and called him a slut.

  They studied every printed image in the box, but it was making them tired, and Evan had a headache nagging him, but they were anxious to look over all the papers inside as well. It did not take long, they seemed as useless as old phonebooks listings. The deeds were the most exciting thing in there. They were about to turn their attention to the plates, Evan was taking a few deep breaths in mock horror when he scrunched his eyebrows, and reached for one of the topmost bits of paper, lying in the pile where they tossed them.

  “What would Papa have been doing with windows in the place in 1919?” he asked. “This is a receipt for a lot of work in late June.”

  “That would have been Yousep’s idea to restore light to the studios.”

  Evan did not understand what she was talking about. She remembered, he only knew as much of the Reisman history as she had taken the time to tell. She leaned back on the pillows and let him lay his aching head on her stomach, and she told him about Yousep suggesting the windows in the rear, so light could be restored to the studios for portraits again, afternoon portraits.

  “It was brilliant. The room is magical because of his windows. Papa would have been nearly back to his prime if Yousep hadn’t been pulled from the room upstairs and killed.”

  Evan was properly impressed. Yousep was on the edge of greatness, leading two great families along with him when his life was taken. No wonder Papa mourned the boy, until he was insane with grief. Evan was absently tickling Shelly’s breasts with the faded receipt when he looked at the back side of the slip.

  “What would Papa have been doing with the windows in early August? This is a doubled work receipt,” he handed the slip to her and continued the tickling with his fingertips. She read the two sides and pursed her lips.

  “I don’t know. This says ‘front window’ and nothing else.”

  “Well then, when we go back tomorrow, we will have to investigate a front window which needed work in 1919, after the murders. That is suspicious to the point of distraction, and it takes a lot to distract me from these,” he said as he rolled a bit to kiss her.

  “What are you going to tell your family? If I go back to work, there is a lot that will start happening. I cannot let them halt construction on me, once we start tearing out space.”

  “I’m going to tell them you have my help in the Reisman Portraits for as long as you want me there. They can’t keep me out. They may as well give up now.”

  Shelly knew they had stopped all their investigations, as playfulness interrupted; they had not seen Yousep’s plates. But the night was more pleasant without any more spooks, and when she woke up the next morning, cradling Evan’s wounded brow, she no longer cared about the plates at all. They could wait until he said he was ready.

  He walked into the bath, still very sleepy a few minutes later, and was shocked to find her timidly sitting on the basin. He apologized and hurried out, but she felt the urge to call him back. It took a few moments and he protested, but she was so relieved when he was close enough for her to reach and take his hand. As she held it, and kissed it, she surprised him by how relaxed she really was. He stood there terribly embarrassed while she wet the basin and kissed his fingers. She smiled at him, and she blushed brightly red, but the kisses did not stop for another moment.

  “Mag ik je kussen?” she whispered to him as she kissed.

  “What?”

  “What?” she whispered back.

  “You just said something I didn’t understand. What did you just say?” His worried look prompted her to look worried right back.

  “I asked you if you were hungry, if you wanted to eat.”

  “We get to be in the bathroom alone, Shelly. That’s kind of a rule now, okay?” and she blushed again, but smiled the same smile.

  When she returned to his bed, she still wore the blush on her cheeks, but the smile was gone again. She wanted to stay with him, do nothing but touch him all day, but she was actually afraid to ask. As he welcomed her back, and they renewed their embrace, he told her he wanted her to stay until she could not bear the sight of him naked any more. As she giggled against his neck, he understood, she would likely be right there the rest of the week.

  Evan was only partly right, about the depth of trouble his mother would likely dredge up, in her fevered march to revenge. They could not actually stop anything Shelly wanted to do wi
th the place, but they could sure raise a lot of noise against it. As Shelly arrived at the building a few mornings later, a reporter, who looked to have waited on her the entire week, met her at the door. The second call she made, after she put her finger in the reporters face – was to Evan, to warn him, his clan was stepping up the nasty stuff. The first call was to Grandma Sareta. The Reismans would be prepared by the end of the day.

  The reporter started by first asking, if Mr. Bryant was pressing charges, and what did Shelly think if he did? The second question was, if the rumor was true – that Ms. Reisman somehow arranged a fake haunting, to get some pre-opening publicity for the tired old place. Shelly was so mad she cried in the studio for another hour.

  Evan made her feel much better when he called, and asked her to come back that night. She had been by his side several days but he felt terribly faint, and needed some special attention to help mend. Then when he felt better, he could stay at her place for a few days and then…his silly cooing was not really what made her feel better.

  He reminded her, they ignored the images in the chest, and it was something they would not overlook again. They would do it before dinner. She knew everything would be all right then. The clan squabbles would not matter, he would help her until she gave up herself, and she decided, she would only quit if the opening night were a total flop. Mama Bryant really showed how inexperienced she was at the publicity stuff, the more stink she raised, the more curious people would be.

  Shelly made half a dozen phone calls then, to her architect, to her contractor, to her Dad, to tell him the bills would start showing up in thirty days. The Reisman Portraits was about to change forever.

  She walked out of the studio into the shop with a purpose, and stepped into the darkroom closet, to prove to the building, it could do nothing to stop her. She reached into the darkness, and found the warmth she was searching for with her fingertips, guided by her heart. Shelly knew there was nothing real in this darkness she could touch, but it soothed the painful longing in her body. She knew she was hearing a lie in the whispers, but she gave in to them.

  The door silently closed behind her and Shelly closed her eyes to deepen the darkness. Yousep reached to pick up the first plate as she slipped her hands underneath his shirt and pulled his warmth close to her body. The dress was in the way of the warmth, and she wanted it against her skin, not wasted on cloth. He moved just a bit, less movement than sway, less sway than a dance, and the dress slipped to the floor.

  Shelly turned and pressed her cheek against his warm back and listened to him whisper her name, and the sound of it circled his heart, “Caraliza,” he whispered. She stood there holding him close as long as he worked in the darkness. She loved the lie this room told her. She loved the blackness that swallowed her. She prayed he would find her, feed her, and hold her. Love her. She was safe, for the first time since she was taken by coach, hungry, and unfed, in the brute’s foul company, from Amsterdam.

  The darkroom closet was the safest place Shelly had ever been.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Evan was beside himself with worry when Shelly finally came to his door. His calls around to her family had not found her, and it was getting dark, but no one seemed worried, it was pure Shelly to be late to the bathroom. Aunt Dannie offered to take her place for the evening and laughed until Evan felt very uncomfortable. But Shelly finally arrived, and looked stunning, he was impressed she had gone to any trouble for him. But her lip was bleeding, just a little. She looked like a very alluring vampire, and she gave him the same smile she had given in the toilet, under the very strange spell of immodesty. She was against him before he could close the door.

  “What happened to your lip, Sweetheart?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you all right, Shelly?”

  “I don’t know.”

  And she kissed him very slowly, very softly and she tasted his lips, tasted his neck. It took several moments to get her through the door, and it closed behind her. When he turned, she was slowly on her way into the den and clothing was not making the entire trip with her. She was at the window and opening it before he could get into the room behind her and he actually cried out, concerned she might step up to the sill.

  “God, what’s the matter, Evan, you almost made me pee.”

  “You didn’t answer me Shelly, are you all right?” he could not help sounding angry with her, because he was.

  “Yes, I’m fine Evan!” This time her tone was annoyed; the smile was gone. She walked back to the couch and lay down, stretching out like a spoiled cat, wearing only her lingerie. She continued to gaze out the window, and she would not look at him.

  “You worried me.” Evan stood in the doorway watching her. She seemed in an odd, playful mood, but so distant, she hardly noticed him at all. “Shelly, I called all over the place to find you. We almost headed to the shop, to make sure you were okay.”

  She just looked at him, warm eyes, that smile came back, and she did not say a thing to him. No apology, no guilt, no shame.

  “Were you at the shop?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Working?”

  “Yes...”

  “Did you go upstairs? The closet?”

  “The closet!” she purred at him. “I was in the closet. You were wonderful.”

  He realized, watching Shelly, she had fallen in love with the spell the closet cast on her; she could no more stay out than he had been able to stay out of the attic. Evan heard awful things from the attic room; things that made him toss away any common sense and run up there. His fear did not protect him. There was nothing to protect Shelly, because she certainly was not afraid.

  “I was not there Shelly. You touched something else.”

  “I know that!”

  Evan crossed to the couch and sat down, not knowing if he was really talking to Shelly at all. He had never seen her act like this. She wiggled to put her head in his lap, gazed up to his lips and traced them with her fingertips. After a few quiet moments, being so close, he noticed the distance in her eyes faded away, and she seemed more herself.

  “What are we having for dinner?”

  “We were going out, just downstairs. Appetizers in about three or four of my favorite places until we’ve had enough.” He looked at her as she licked her bleeding lip, a bit surprised when she tasted blood. “Do you still want to do that, Shelly? We can order in again if you like.”

  “Blechh! Did you take a bite when you kissed me, you fiend?”

  “No, you came in that way. Shelly, don’t you care how worried I’ve been? You should have been here hours ago.”

  “Evan, I was fine.” She was not annoyed this time. She was reassuring. “But the place is more haunted than we have ever guessed. It’s alive with a lot more than just two murdered teenagers. Since we took the photograph the whole placed is changed.”

  “And you think that’s safe?”

  “No, it’s not safe.”

  Here was her chance to let him know how frightened she had become. She did not tell him.

  “I’m hungry. Are you?”

  He knew perfectly well she avoided saying something when she changed the subject. She was gazing back out the window again, the distance in her eyes had returned.

  “Let’s go get some dinner, Sweetheart. I am hungry,” he said.

  Shelly smiled a wee smile, and rolled back to snuggle against his stomach and she began to sing a very sleepy little song, almost a whisper. It frightened Evan.

  “Slaap, kindje, slaap

  daar buiten loopt een schaap.”

  “I think we should go on down. Get some air,” he whispered to interrupt her song. She struggled with tears and looked suddenly very surprised, as if awakening from a bad dream. “You have me very worried, Sweetheart. I can’t tell if you really are okay,” he whispered, gently stroking her brow and watching the expression in her eyes.

&n
bsp; Shelly was drifting in and out of reality, still feeling something that held her in the closet.

  “I can’t really tell myself, Evan,” she admitted. “I need you there. You told me we shouldn’t be alone, we should always be together in there.” She sat up and shook her head a bit. “I want you to come back in with me. I need you.”

  “In a few days, Shelly. I’m almost ready to come back.”

  She seemed relieved to hear that. He wished she had been able to tell him what she avoided, that ‘something’ she seemed desperate to say to him. He knew she had not gone near it.

  “I’m ready to go,” she said as she stood up and took he hands to pull him up into her arms. “When we come back, will you wash me? It is so wonderful!”

  “Shelly are you awake or are you dreaming?”

  “I’m always dreaming when you hold me.” She smiled and walked slowly along the trail of clothing, pulling him along behind. She reached down for her top. “I just dreamed you washed me, all over. It was delicious.”

  “When did you dream this?”

  “In the closet today. I loved it. You know what it feels like. I love it in there.”

  “You are as strange as you are beautiful, Shelly,” he said to her.

  “Then I am very gorgeous, because I am very, very strange,” she replied as she picked up the leg of her jeans with her toes and lifted them up to her hand.

  “Don’t you want to open the box before we go down?” he stopped in the entry before he opened the door.

  “No, we will waste time talking about what we find. We won’t be able to just glance at those images, and then walk down to eat, as if they weren’t ever important. It’s not going to be uninteresting at all, I can just feel it.”