Caraliza

by Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick

  Evan begged himself to forget he even though about such a thing. But his legs were wobbly when he walked into the back of the shop a bit later. Shelly kissed him and bit his lip to let him know he was in physical danger should he turn is back on her, and Evan knew, he was going to find a way to get at the secret, of the keys Papa could use, to open Caraliza’s prison, any time he wanted.

  ***

  Shelly granted her first interview only ten days before the opening event. She agreed, at the museum’s considerable pleading, to allow a news crew into the studio and let them ask a few questions about the family history. She placed a security guard at the door into the storefront so none of the film crew could sneak passed and get a scoop, and ruin her with criticism of the renovation. Evan thought either of the ghosts could have done the job, but she would have to ask them, he declined to even try.

  When the afternoon arrived, it was so bright in the studio the film crew asked if the drapes could be pulled a bit, to lessen the glare. They were not drapes for blocking the light, but for modifying it, and the room took on such a remarkable, honey glow, Evan felt a twinge of sadness, for his last lovely kiss from the angel in the closet. Shelly did not sit for the interview, an idea of her own the producer raved about, she stood, and every few minutes would turn, and the camera would move to follow her. The affect took the viewer into the whole room, in a sweeping motion, throughout the interview. They taped thirty minutes.

  Shelly told them as much of the family history as she could, without mentioning the horrible murders upstairs. But she did please the reporter by being frank about the ghosts. She always loved the idea of spooks in the endearing old shop, but yes, she was scared utterly shitless several times. The cameraman was tickled pink she used profanity. Ghost stories and bleeps in the dialogue. They were terribly impressed. They begged her several times for a repeat on the night of the opening, but she refused. No television would be allowed for the opening night, but cameras were welcome, and if you got an image of a ghost, your evening was on the house; provided you let them have a copy of the image. She was perfect. Shelly Reisman could advertise, and she was very, very hot. Evan began to think he might need to do some serious jewelry shopping, and soon. Eligible bachelors, from all over the city, were going to want a few more glances at the Reisman with the curves, and they knew where they could find her, five nights a week.

  “How can we be sure this place will produce ghosts for your guests when you open?” The studio went silent when the producer asked Shelly this question as the crew was packing up. “You base lot of hope…on people believing you.”

  “I can show you, but your team stays right here,” Shelly surprised everyone, including Evan. “You have to close your eyes and follow me, if you open them you’ll never get back in here, even if you bribe this guard, he’ll just take your money and laugh.”

  The guard winked at the producer, because he thought the idea was cool. The producer closed his eyes as she instructed, and Shelly took him passed the guard into the storefront, switching off the lights as she went.

  “Spooky noises won’t be enough to scare me Ms. Reisman,” he said as he disappeared out the door.

  “Oh, you aren’t going to hear a sound,” she sang back at him as she pulled him along into the gloom.

  Evan held his breath.

  He was certain Shelly was going to shove the producer into the closet, and he hoped Caraliza was really gone; the fellow might not want to leave. But the screaming changed Evan’s mind about where Shelly might have taken the man. It started with low moans, which sounded like chanting, but was quickly punctuated by some shrieks that raised the hairs on Evan’s neck. The crew rushed to the doorway and the guard was looking back into the gloom, which swallowed Shelly and her guest. He was stupid enough to ask the creepiest chick in New York City for a scare and she’d had the balls to put him at the foot of the attic stair. He knocked the guard into the wall trying to get back into the light in the studio. His crew scattered like excited little kids.

  “You’re fucking crazy, Shelly!” he said, raking his hands into his hair and trying to catch his breath. “You’re going to let people in here, with that shit going on?” His crew was stunned and the guard realized he was about to really earn his money. But the producer screamed at them, “Don’t you dare go in there!” he might have nearly wet his pant with fear, but, he did not want to lose any future stories in this place. It was going to make his career.

  Shelly stood just outside the door, just into the shop, framed in the growing gloom. And she laughed. Evan’s breath turned to ice in his lungs. She was messed up now. He had not noticed it getting so bad at all; he stayed too busy, He let Papa distract him. Those damned keys meant everything now.

  “What did you see man?”

  “Shut the hell up and get this shit out of here. We’re done!”

  “So why did you do that to him, Shelly?” Evan asked, settling into the divan, just far enough away from her she could put her feet into his lap. “There should have been other ways to spook him without introducing him to that.”

  She just looked at him and began to unbutton her blouse. The day was finished. She would not do another thing in the shop this evening, and surprised him by ordering pizza. They had done it enough to know, the entire delivery staff of their favorite pizzeria refused to come into the back door after the sun set. They would stand at the front of the shop and bang on the door hard enough to nearly shatter the glass.

  As much as they were terrified of the building, they loved the chance Shelly might come to the front. She would always flash them in some innocent but deliberate way, even the girls; they must have fought over who would be brave enough to deliver the next time. All the lights were on in the storefront when the pizza was delivered; the room was stunning. Evan could have looked to the great window and expected to see Yousep hard at work dusting or moving the cameras.

  Evan loved the way it looked at early evening, the window dark because the street light had not switched on, and the store ablaze with the lamps Shelly installed to replace the old gas fixtures. The wood tones were mixed dark and light, the floor being the darkest color in the room. It gave the effect in the evening light of making the fixtures look as though they floated in space, nothing but empty darkness beneath them.

  The pizza delivery guy was glad twice in the same breath, the street was dark in front of the building and he was no longer alone, and Shelly answered the door with her blouse completely open to the last button. Evan followed her this time, but was not noticed, because, he had not been noticed. When he was, the look of fright on the poor fellows face was amusing, but it melted into a satisfied and approving smirk as he nodded toward Shelly while she fumbled the boxes on purpose, and then he gave Evan a wink. Evan thought his jewelry shopping should perhaps begin the next day, why wait.

  “You didn’t answer me, naughty girl. You know, those really don’t replace a tip, but they are close,” he said as he took the boxes from her, and fumbled them on purpose. And there was that damned laugh again. And it did sound damned sometimes. “You have not told me why you took the producer to the stair. That was criminal.”

  “But it got us better press,” she cooed at him and pulled his chin along behind her as they headed back to the studio. She paused in the middle of the room as he expected, and did her small ‘I love this room’ dance. It became a ritual; one of the last things she did after locking the doors at night. She would pirouette in the center of the room, with her arms out slightly, and just drink the place in. All those years. She probably first danced as a five or six year old, promising the old place it would belong to her, and she would belong to it.

  Her dream was almost complete. Her kitchen and wait staff were reporting the next afternoon, and the neighborhood, if they cared to sniff in the direction of the Reisman Portraits would know the secret of the restoration before anyone else; the kitchen would be lit and the rehearsals would begin. Nine days and counting. The pizza would only be part
ially gnawed before the play began. Evan was very glad the windows were seven feet from the ground outside because she never pulled the drapes, and she never stayed on the couch. She had several dances. The pirouette was the first she showed him, but his favorite was the studio dance. It never allowed them to finish a meal in that room. This pizza would be breakfast because Shelly Reisman was happy and dancing for him.

  They had played on the divan before, but it was almost too passionate for them, and they stopped themselves, frustrated but oddly ashamed. She said it felt like romping in her parent’s bed, and vowed with lots of kisses for guarantees, she had not actually done that, but he understood it perfectly. It almost felt as though they would be lost in something too passionate, escape would be impossible. You don’t have sex in church either, she said, and that fit as well. But the dance tonight, just too enticing, they lost themselves, and Evan woke shortly before midnight. Shelly was snuggled deeply into the divan, and Evan shielded her body with his, his back to the windows. They were warm enough, no need for any coverings, and one of her legs held him close, he awoke at a sound, and she did not stir as he tried to move.

  He heard sounds at the windows, sounds not meant to be heard, and they were coming up each window in the alley, testing each one.

  Evan had a chill he had not felt since the closet, not for weeks. There was no other sound in the studio, and it was almost completely dark. He kissed Shelly awake, and then moved from his position on the couch to try and wake her. Fear drove sleep from his mind, but she took longer to wake than he wished. He kissed her several more times, and whispered into her ear, and felt the tension in her back as she rose to look behind him.

  “Someone is outside at the windows, Sweetheart,” he roused her and she pulled up against him and looked at the back door.

  The sound Evan heard, came to her ears, and he could tell she was frightened. The last window in the ally was tested to see if it would lift, and there were only two other windows to be tried, the ones on the very back. Someone was a step away from the back door of the studio. The room was swept with an amber glow they had not noticed before, and Evan instantly expected what Shelly did not, the studio was pierced by a blinding light; sweeping the room either side, until it stopped on the two lovers on the couch.

  “Hey, are you that Reisman lady? The owner?” The police officer flashed his badge in the window on the door and lowered his light out of their eyes. “I understand you are busy, but how the hell did you not notice your front window?”

  “What? Has something happened to the window?” Shelly asked, covering herself with her blouse. Evan noticed she was modest for the police. He wondered if she learned it from experience.

  “Yeah, Lady, we drove by and saw your two cars out front but your old window is in pieces on the walk. You should get dressed and start looking around. You’re wide open to the world out front.”

  And Evan noticed, she was wide open in the front for the officer, as she dropped the blouse to pull up her jeans. It was nice drop by to see Shelly Reisman in the evenings.

  She was in tears at the front. The lovely old window was gone. The paper was not torn down by anything but the falling glass, and none of it was in the display. It was all out on the sidewalk. She hated doing it, but she turned on all the lights and began looking around, in her open blouse, and studied every detail in the room. They had not heard a sound as they played or slept on the divan. And she cried with relief, the room was untouched. But the window was so dear she just cried more looking at it.

  “That’s a real shame! The place is beautiful inside, Ms. Reisman. We’ve wondered what you were doing with it. I hate to see it like this. Sort of spoils my surprise too,” the officer said as he took her report. They would list it as a break-in, to help with the insurance if something were found missing in the next few days.

  “Thanks,” Shelly said. “I’m just glad you came by and we were here. It could have been a disaster if this stayed open all evening.”

  “That’s the problem with windows like this ma’am. You might hate it, but it will always be this easy to get in. You should think about some other protection than just a pane of glass.” He got her signature on the report and glanced at Evan glancing at him. He paid too much attention to the area of the notebook and her hands as she wrote. She wiggled.

  She sat down on one of the dining chairs near the front and slowly buttoned her blouse. The police drove away and Evan went to the phone looking for an all-night glass company that would have a pane ten feet wide and seven feet tall. This was not going to be easy to find.

  When he reached a company within a few miles, his fear about the size was borne out, they stocked nothing so big at all. It would take more than a week to get one. All they could do was nail up some heavy plywood, to make the place more secure, and they could be there in about an hour. Oh, it was the Reisman Portraits? They would be right over. Shelly had a reputation, or perhaps it was simply the ghost stories floating around town. Evan suddenly felt an itch that would be horrendous to satisfy if he did not just do it.

  “Shelly?” he said, pulling a chair up next to hers and leaning forward to kiss her damp cheek. She wiped her nose on her blouse tails and looked up at him with the saddest pair of eyes he had ever seen her wear. Her building had a boo-boo, and it hurt her like hell.

  “Will you Shelly, take me Evan?” he whispered to her. And her eyes widened to match her open mouth. If anyone walked the street at that moment, her shrieks would have scared them to their knees.

  “Can I stay Shelly Reisman?” she asked as she smothered him with kisses.

  “I wouldn’t change that for anything. Long as you’re saying yes?”

  She told him yes and began to cry all over again.

  The glass company was good as their word, they made the place secured within an hour, but the pane was just barely going to make it before the opening. Just within enough time to get it installed. Strange though, they were told, the glass all on the sidewalk and none in the shop to clean up. Something must have wanted out pretty badly to push the whole pane down. Evan’s fear was back. Too many never-before-seen things were happening. The building was heating up on the ghost meter. But Shelly Reisman said yes. His family was going to choke.

  The security company was alerted and they put a car in front of the place just before the glass company left. Shelly and Evan could go home, and they were ready. It had been a draining night. Evan ran back to get the pizza from the fridge and Shelly did her pirouette, more slowly than ever before, her arms clutching herself very tight, and she spun, and spun in her bare feet on the boards - soothing herself and her building. Evan watched her from the kitchen door. She would be his wife, and was happy when she said yes. He knew how she felt, having the most desired thing in her life, within her fingers, holding it and treasuring it. He hoped somewhere in her heart, he might be a treasure. The Reisman Portraits was intensely silent around him; he could only hear her feet on the boards, like a breath.

  Shelly came apart emotionally when they climbed into bed and he pulled her close. A sudden rush of doubt, worry and crushing anxiety were poured out all over Evan’s chest. He could do no more than listen, and hope the next week went well enough she could enjoy it a little. She was too close to having a breakdown that would halt her preparations. As much as she had been through, she was quite overdue for several collapses, and someone less determined would have taken the time long ago to fall completely apart. Shelly just whimpered as she told him what she was worried about. Before he knew it, she was telling him how desperately she missed the spirits of the two young lovers, she thought they attracted and encouraged her love for the building. Without them and their essence somewhere to be felt, she was just weary. She wanted them back, Evan hoped Caraliza could sense that, and desire a return. Shelly could love them forever, once her other demon was put to rest, or at least banished from the shop.

  Evan had not told her, the remains, taken from the back of the shop, were surrendered to t
he family for burial, as they wished. Sareta remained adamant the headstone should have no name upon it, nothing to mark the man who had done so much wrong, to so many innocent people. But Evan was oppressed with dread at the thought the burial should forever remain unknown. If ever there were a place a spirit should be chained, and kept, it would be its new plot of earth, and not the attic room or stair, and certainly not the heart of Shelly Reisman. Sareta relented, and made Evan vow to never let the family hear the man’s name, she refused to know it. She let him make all the arrangements, and said she hoped never to even think of it again.

  The burial had been completed two weeks before. When the stone was set, he took two images of it, and those plates were in the closet, in the darkness, a secret of his own making. He wondered if they might make a difference to a vile soul, who refused to move away from the living. Shelly seemed less restless in heart since the quiet burial, but she also was much busier, with the dining fixtures, and the restaurant supplies being delivered. She interviewed people nearly every day for the positions on her staff.

  Evan thought perhaps fresh soil and a stone would please any spirit, who blew through the place, but Shelly introduced the news producer to something that could haunt him the remainder of his life; it was still there. Shelly thought it funny. The very, horribly creepy Shelly thought it funny.

  She lay in his arms crying softly at all the hurt she held, and he wished their engagement, still lifting his heart, could have lifted hers. But there was a weight about her presence in is arms. A great heavy, oppressive weight, and Evan alone could not ease it.