".taht od t'noD" he said.
I was starting to get the hang of understanding him. "You won't talk me out of it. I'm stopping you, no matter what it takes."
And it looked like it might take everything I had to give.
Chapter Thirty Two
I made slow progress dragging Walter down the hallway and away from his power toy. Even so, after a single turn, I realized I was totally lost. Walter was worse off. Whatever had happened to him, it still had him disoriented, which made him easier to drag along. But some of his outbursts were at least coming out partially forward now. He was recovering and I was glad we were lost.
I saw what Enid had meant. Without the key, the moment I pulled him around the first corner, the walls changed completely. It wasn't just that directions were confused but that you seemed to be in a different place. Even looking away from a wall and then back to it, you'd swear it was a different wall altogether. I decided that this was as lost as I could get and that going any further would be a waste of energy.
And I was tired. Fighting Walter, dealing with the visions had taken the stuffing out of me. So I slumped against a wall and let Walter go.
Walter looked at me. "It done you've now," he said. Then he looked around. "I am when?"
I nodded. Having him speaking dyslexic was an improvement, all things considered.
"Good question, forward or backward. I have no idea when or where we are, beyond the vague idea that we are still in the belly of the world's largest cursed object and likely to remain here indefinitely."
"Next do to intend you did what?"
"You mean 'what do I intend to do?' I've no idea."
"I here time long ago for a long time."
Scattered was at least different than straight backward but harder to sort out the meaning. "You mean that you were lost here in the past?"
He nodded. "You lost me. Us lost you."
"Now we are up to Yoda-speak at least, but your tenses need work. Yes, I got us lost and it just happened, not that long ago." I realized that his time sense was scrambled. That was the source of his confusion. Now and then, the first word to the last word, they were all bolloxed up in his wee evil brain.
"You will find the spectacles," he said as if it just occurred to him. "You will put them on and see the past."
"I saw the future, actually. And you are hip deep in reruns. There's no need to do that again and I left the glasses back in the same area I left the key, wherever that is. What happens now will be interesting to see unless, of course, it involves simply wandering around in this place until we starve to death."
"Ooof," he said.
Looking at the befuddled Walter, currently confused about what was past and what was future, and probably about the present as well, I felt a certain amount of pity. "I'm sorry I had to do this, Walter. But I feel sorry for myself too, you know."
"Here of out get never will we."
"That's exactly the point. You just wouldn't quit, wouldn't stop trying to change the future. So I had to make sure you couldn't get back to your toy. You are at least as dangerous as the cursed objects because you want to use them. After seeing its power I couldn't let you do it."
"Others," he said.
"I'm sure there are. Who knows how many? I don't even know how many you took. But I'm reassured that there are other people, people saner than you looking for them. Clarence will give them the key so they can lock them up."
"Everything ruined you," Walter said, sitting up to lean against the wall.
"I had to stop you, dude. I didn't know enough to think of any other way to do it. I just wish I knew more. I wish that Uncle Mason had told me what was going on when we had a chance. Even if I hadn't believed him, when all this came down I'd be able to say, 'this must be what he meant.' As it is, I don't know a lot and some of what I know I learned too late."
"It of half the know don't you."
"Well, that's exactly my point. I don't know the half of it. And it's kind of funny." Walter glared at me. "It really is. I can finally see how important this work is and manage to take you down, and it's all over. I always wanted my life to have meaning, and as it turned out, Clarence was right in saying that this was what I should be doing. Then, as soon as I figure that out it's all over. Life as I knew it, at least. That's the funny part. I doubt that living here is going to be all that satisfying. We probably can't even get cell reception, which means no Netflix. Maybe we will find some things we can make into a hobby."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. I turned my face toward the reassuring form of Edgar. He was standing down the hall a short distance waving at me, a bit ethereally, indicating he wanted me to come to him. I wasn't sure about leaving Walter. I kind of wanted to keep an eye on him. I'd lose him entirely if we separated, but I had no idea what that magic distance was where we lost contact.
Edgar was insistent so I went to him. The idea of spending whatever was left of my existence with Walter wasn't all that appealing. Edgar was better. When I reached Edgar, he smiled and led me off in some direction that, like every other direction, was unfamiliar. "Where are we going?"
Behind me, Walter mumbled something. "Same to you," I called, but when I looked back he was gone.
Edgar was almost entirely ghostly again now, and it didn't seem like he could make sounds. He seemed sad as I followed him down several hallways.
The entire place was eerily quiet as we walked. The only sound was my footsteps until…"Cecelia!"
I saw Clarence standing there. Behind him, I saw Enid and Beatrice.
"Don't move, dearie," Enid said. "Stand very still until we get to you."
"We have to navigate these turns," Clarence said.
His words made no sense as I watched them walk straight up to me. As soon as he was close, Clarence grabbed my hand. "Don't let go," he said. I saw that they were all holding hands, making a chain.
Enid held up the hand that held Beatrice's. "It's safer this way, especially with you and Walter altering the spatial dynamics of the Grand Storehouse." As she spoke, around me the storehouse started to reorganize, began making some sense.
"We need to get you out of here," Beatrice said.
"And us," Enid said.
"Walter is still inside," I said. "Back down the hall."
Beatrice shook her head. "We have to leave him. Without a key he won't be able to locate any of artifacts. He won't be a danger to us or anyone else."
"But he could stumble across one. When I dragged him away I left him a key by the antikythera mechanism. I didn't want him taking it from me. The spectacles are there too."
"No problem." Enid held up a key. "We went there first. Clarence took us where he'd left you and we found it. And the glasses. That's when we figured out what you'd done. So we removed the small mechanism, put it away where it belongs, and grabbed the key and glasses before coming for you. "
Clarence squeezed my hand. "And you are an idiot if you thought for a minute that we were going to leave you just wandering around this place forever." He looked at a shelf of odd knickknacks. "I mean, it is kind of a cool place, but…"
"There is it,' Beatrice said. "There's the exit. Well, it's an exit anyway, right over that way," Beatrice said.
As we snaked down the passageway, stepping into the strange foyer we came through when we entered, and moved toward a glowing door. I glanced back over my shoulder toward a lost place where I imagined a glum and lonely figure slumped against the wall. Somewhere in there Walter was sitting and waiting for, in his case, whatever the past would bring.
"He tried to kill you, kill us," Clarence said, letting his gaze follow mine back.
"I know."
As we stepped through the door I smelled fresh air and lilac. We were swept out of the Grand Storehouse and stepped into the bright light of Enid's spare bedroom in Destiny's Point. I sighed and she touched my cheek. "Don't be too sad for him. Walter knew the object was cursed. He chose to take a gamble with his fate, with… well,
everything really. You did what you had to; you stopped him from undoing time and destroying all that we know."
"He chose to meddle," Beatrice said. "He brought it on himself."
I knew they were right but that didn't make it okay, didn't make it feel right, and they knew that. There was a sadness in their eyes too. I guess when you've loved someone, or even made yourself think you did, it's hard to admit that they deserve some nasty fate. So even though Clarence, and Enid, and Beatrice were right, even though I knew that if we rescued him and he recovered he'd try it all again, I felt sorry for him. And once I'd even thought I'd loved him.
For the first time I thought about the uncertain fate I’d escaped and left him to face. That made my victory painfully bittersweet.
Epilogue
The sky was gray and heavy. Rain drizzled down on a small group of people all dressed in black, holding black umbrellas. I was there among them, but my thoughts came and went, flitting about. I stood in the rain in my own black clothing, holding my own black umbrella and yet I watched us standing there too. I could see us all, clustered around a casket in the cemetery where a fresh headstone said simply: "Mason Parish, Antique Dealer."
That precise, concise inscription had been part of his will. We learned that when Jeffrey Wiggens read the will. At that same time, he also read some notes Uncle Mason had left explaining, in a way, in his cryptic fashion, some of the quirks. Concerning the headstone, the note said: "No dates. Don't give them anything useful to go on."
If I'd been told about that request a few weeks before it might've made me question the part of the will that said he was of sound mind, but now… almost anything would have made a certain amount of sense. I certainly wouldn't dismiss such fears about dates, or his concerns about something that might involve him even though he was dead, not until and if I knew more.
Beatrice and Albert stayed for the funeral. So they were there, under black umbrellas, with Clarence, Enid, Jeffrey, Steve the doctor and taxi driver, and a few locals that I knew as familiar, ostensibly friendly faces from Uncle Mason's world. They were all calm, not weepy, and reassuring. I was glad they were there. There were some unfamiliar faces as well. "Antique Dealers from around the world," Enid had whispered to me. "You'll get to know them all eventually."
Maybe I was learning to be a bit more patient, and I hoped a bit wiser, because I just accepted that. There did seem to be a time and place for things that mattered and yet they often didn't flow the way you thought they might. As Walter had shown me, time, in particular, was malleable. The key to the Grand Storehouse proved that space and place were as well.
At the end of the ceremonies, I had been asked to say a few words. I wanted to be terse. A lot of what I might have said wouldn't make sense outside of the circle of people who'd helped me out of the Grand Storehouse. "I loved my Uncle Mason," I said. "I've learned that I didn't know him nearly as well as I thought. I would never have expected him to entrust me with his shop, with his antiques. I'd never understood his affection for these old things. But getting involved with them has shown me what a complex and interesting life being an Antique Dealer offers. That came as a surprise. Beyond that, over and above learning the allure of the past, I've learned that by taking responsibility for this inheritance I gained more than a new life from Mason Parish. He left me his apartment, his shop, essentially his life, and with that comes a future I could never have imagined. One that many of you will already know is both exciting and important. So, while I ache with the loss of Mason Parish, my uncle, I feel energized by his faith in me. For giving me that, I love him all the more. And as I do my best to walk in his shoes, I know he'll be with me."
"Amen," Edgar said from beside me. Then he winked.
Clarence came up to me. "That was really beautiful. Mason would be so proud of you. I'm sure that having you succeed him is exactly what he wanted."
"You weren't sure at first, were you?"
"No. I'll admit that I was upset when we first started learning about all the things that had been going on. It was clear that Mason had never confided in me. That hurt. I worked with for almost five years and knew nothing about any of it. I felt like maybe he hadn't trusted me. Of course, then I learned that you didn't know about any of it either, until… and then as we started to work together and became a team, I had to accept that Mason had his reasons, even if I didn't understand them."
"So you are happy now? You'll keep working in the shop and with me on… other matters."
"Try and keep me away," he said.
Suddenly his words were ringing in my head. "Five years," I said as Enid walked up to me.
"Five years?" she asked.
"Yes, and I think that is more than passing strange," I said.
"What is strange, dear?"
"I'm rather sure you know precisely what I mean, Enid."
Her smile told me I was right. "Humor an old woman. Tell me your suspicions."
"I've learned that coincidences aren't accidents… not often, and now I've encountered one that is bothersome."
"Tell me."
"Five years ago I broke up with Walter and left Destiny's Point. That same year Uncle Mason sent me the key to the Grand Storehouse…" I nodded at Clarence, "and he also took Clarence on at the shop…."
She laughed. "But that's not even remotely a coincidence, Cecelia. It's just that five years ago some things happened."
"Things?"
"It all started before that, actually. I told you that Mason always believed that if he acted carefully he could use some of the objects to get some good results. He was certain that using them could help make things better. I never went along with that. You don't use bad things to make good things happen. I believed that strongly and we argued about it."
"Right. You said that's what broke you up—your argument about him using the objects."
"One, in particular."
"The one that extended his life."
"I thought it was foolish and irresponsible of him to do that. I didn't think there was a blessed thing about those objects that could come out well and I didn't want any part of it. At any rate, five years ago, after you left town, he told me he was going to the Storehouse. He hired Clarence to run the shop and as soon as he got him trained, he disappeared."
"That's right," Clarence said. "He said he was going to search for some special items."
"Which he was," Enid agreed.
"He was gone for a week."
"Your time," Enid said. "And when he returned, I knew something was wrong. He was acting strangely, even for Mason."
"Strangely?"
"What happened affected him. He didn't say much, but he did tell me that he only had another five years to live."
"He used the spectacles?"
"That's a possibility. I hadn't realized that he'd brought them back to the shop until you and Clarence showed up with them. Or he could've used some other object that shows distorted futures. And this one was correct without needing him to make it happen."
"Good point."
"It could be that he didn't see the future at all, but somehow learned that the object he'd used to extend his life only gave him thirteen years and he knew he had five left. I don't know the details or why he was dying in the first place, so it's hard to know. At any rate, five years ago he got a bug in his bonnet about doing what was necessary to ensure his legacy wasn't wasted or some such rot and he knew he had five years to do it in."
"Do you think he decided he was wrong and that using the objects had been a mistake?" I asked.
Enid frowned. "I hadn't, but that would explain why he sent you the key… not so you'd have it when he died, but to keep temptation out of reach. I'm sure that he must've been sorely tempted to do something about his impending death."
"If he was messing with things in the Grand Storehouse, trying to make things right… that's a confusing place."
"What are you saying?" Enid asked.
"In messing with things inside there, even with
the key, perceptions are murky."
"You're right," Clarence said. "We don't know what all he might have put into motion. Intentionally or accidentally, he might've started a lot of things that we know nothing about yet."
"That was always my concern," Enid said. "I've always believed in the power of the law of unintended consequences. It's a powerful law and in my experience, it applies whether you are dealing with ordinary things or cursed objects. The consequences just happen to be a great deal more profound with cursed objects."
"The perverse effects, Merton called them," Clarence said. "Of course."
"Merton?" I asked.
"Robert Merton was the social scientist who popularized the term."
As I watched the cemetery staff lower Uncle Mason's casket into the ground I reflected on the law of unintended consequences. It certainly seemed the basis for my life so far. "What did you have planned for me, Uncle Mason? And how can it, how has it, gone wrong so far?"
Enid took my hand. "Now, dearie. Mason was a little wild, but he meant well."
Somehow that wasn't as comforting as it could've been under other circumstances.
* * *
There aren't many kinds of work that I can think of that would have been more dull, less interesting than what I was doing at that moment. I sat at a desk doing simple sorting—taking things from one big pile and separating them, assigning to other locations based on rather simple criteria. When you do it for any length of time it quickly becomes tedious, frustrating, menial and generally unpleasant. Okay, I was getting irritable and negative.
I forced myself to flip over a page and an involuntary hoot of joy popped out of me. I read carefully, then grabbed my phone.
"Clarence," I said when he answered. "I found it."
"Which it?" he asked, sounding rather amused. "In recent times we have been searching for some unknown number of unknown 'its'."
"This it is a record player. It has to be one of our objects. The description matches perfectly."
"Then we are going after it?"
The Curious Case of the Cursed Spectacles (Curiosity Shop Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Page 18