Intrigued, she quickly nodded her head yes.
“It’s in the back room, if you will follow me.” He walked slowly, holding onto a black cane with what looked like a silver skull attached at the top. She noticed his white straight hair hung nearly to his waist. The old man reached with his cane and pulled a black curtain aside.
It really wasn’t a room, more of a short hallway with a backdoor at the end of it. A large box labeled with several foreign graphics sat in the middle. Clearly it had traveled a long way. A box cutter sat on top.
“Go ahead, you must open it.” He pointed with one long sharp fingernail that was yellowed with age.
She didn’t like the sound of that. You must open it. But then again he said he had to hire someone and truthfully, he did appear too frail to manhandle the box. Besides, curiosity won the best of her.
Carefully slicing through the folds of the box, she let the sides fall to the floor. She gasped out loud as the last side dropped and revealed its treasure completely.
She could not believe her eyes as they suddenly welled with tears. The eighteenth century Mahogany wing chair was perfectly covered with green damask. The front legs ended in beautifully carved ball-and-claw feet. She had never seen anything more beautiful. “Oh Charlie,” she whispered under her breath. “I so wish you could see this.”
I can, and it’s magnificent, she heard him say inside her head.
“I must have this piece!” She cried out loud to the storeowner.
“I’m afraid my dear, this piece is very expensive.” He looked up into her eyes.
“Cost is not an issue; I’d sell anything I own to have this piece if need be.” She reached out and gently stroked the soft damask. “How much?”
Without pause the old man loudly stated, “One million.”
“Sold.” Emma Louise said in her most professional CEO voice ever. She’d seen a piece similar, though not nearly as exquisite as this one, sell recently for a million-five online. Expensive, yes, but still a steal at that price.
Paperwork was quickly signed and delivery was scheduled for Friday so the check she wrote would have time to clear. One last look back at the chair before she left reassured her that she had found an Old Friend indeed. What a great name for an antique store.
The next four days dragged by. Emma busied herself with rearranging furniture to find the perfect spot for her new Old Friend. Finally, on the third day, she decided on the obvious – the sitting room. The one-way floor length glass windows gave way to the setting sun over the gulf. It was the highest peak of the split level home and the place where she and Charlie had sat every evening, drinking wine and watching the crimson sky turn dark. She had moved her old chair into one of the guest rooms, but kept Charlie’s in the same spot. She couldn’t bear to remove his. Besides, who else would she talk to every evening? She had a few friends, but none widowed as she was. Occasionally they met for lunch, and she had plans to join a few social clubs now that she was retired, but not yet. She even toyed with the idea of someday volunteering to sit on the city council board, or a planning and zoning committee. Travel was not necessary; she had seen the world with Charlie, and that was enough. For now, she would be content to take some time for herself before jumping into anything. Silly, really, getting excited over a chair, but she was. She couldn’t wait for the chair to arrive tomorrow.
She woke after a fitful night of bad dreams. Charlie kept calling out for her and she could not find him, even though she ran down hallway after endless hallway. Shaking off the cobwebs, she made her way to the kitchen and brewed herself a cup of coffee. Before half of it was gone, she heard the sound of the delivery van in her driveway followed by the doorbell. It took less than fifteen minutes and her new Old Friend sat in its perfect spot. Emma wanted to sit in it immediately, but told herself she had to wait until this evening. Sunset was when she and Charlie sat in their chairs, and that would be the perfect christening. The weather was clear outside, but rain was predicted to come in later in the evening. The makings for a picture perfect sunset.
The remainder of the day Emma kept herself busy. She went through her pantry and made her monthly grocery order to be delivered, made a few phone calls she was past due on, and read a good deal of the current novel she was involved with. (It would have been better sitting in her new chair, but the first time had to be at sunset.)
After lunch, she slipped upstairs to admire her new Old Friend. Returning to the kitchen she readied a salad with thin strips of beef brisket for dinner, which she put in the refrigerator to chill. She spent the remainder of the afternoon in her office going over her finances, she hated to be bothered with that mundane task but found it easier to do herself than to deal with an accountant. Charlie had suggested she take over their finances, as she’d always had a head for numbers. There were several CDs coming up for renewal and she was thankful everything could be done online. Just as Emma shut down the computer, she heard a scrape across the upstairs floor, followed by a thump.
Halfway up the stairs, Emma realized she had no idea what she was going to do if she did find someone in the house. It was too late to think about that, she decided, as she raced into the sitting room. Charlie’s chair was lying on its side. The room was empty, only her new Old Friend and Charlie’s chair, now on its side. It just didn’t feel empty. Emma righted Charlie’s chair, then turned and hurried back down the stairs to the main alarm panel.
The alarm was still set on active. The house was not old, but she calmed her mind with reasoning that maybe the house had just settled by all the rearranging of furniture she had recently done. Charlie’s voice in her head said otherwise.
You shouldn’t have bought the chair, Emma.
“BS you old coot, you’re just jealous you weren’t here to pick it out first.”
Satisfied the house was empty, Emma uncorked a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and poured it into her decanter, allowing it to breathe, while she went to shower.
It was amazing how much a hot shower and a comfy pair of PJs could relax someone. All felt right in the world again. Emma made her way to the counter bar in the kitchen. She had stopped eating in the dining room once Charlie had gone. Pulling the salad from the refrigerator, she grabbed a plate and sat down to eat. Halfway through the salad she poured her first glass of wine. By the time she finished the salad, she knew the sun would be dropping down to make its journey around the world, so she grabbed her decanter and glass, and almost ran to the sitting room.
Just as she had thought, the moisture in the clouds was busy painting a perfect sunset. The pinks would soon turn to purple then the majestic crimson. Carefully setting the decanter and her glass down on the small table between the chairs, she marveled once again at her new Old Friend. She bent to run her fingers over the fine damask, and gently caressed the wings on both sides, then down the cushioned back.
“Welcome home Old Friend,” she whispered, “you and I will watch many magnificent sunsets together and unlike Charlie,” she glanced at his empty chair, “you will never leave me.”
With that, she finally allowed herself to sit in the chair.
A sigh escaped her as she felt the warmth of the chair surround her body. Carefully tipping the decanter so not to spill any on the chair, Emma refilled her glass of wine before sitting back to watch the purple skies now joining the pink. Removing her slippers she rested both feet on the claw feet of the chair, feeling the warmth spread up her calves into her thighs as she took another sip of wine.
“Oh this is glorious,” she said under her breath. She had not felt this good since Charlie had gone.
You shouldn’t have bought the chair, Emma.
She downed the remaining wine and refilled her glass. Determined to drown out Charlie’s voice for the night, she took another sip. Slowly the sun began to sink.
“Ahhh, just look at that beautiful crimson come sneaking in,” she whispered to her new Old Friend. “You see it don’t you?” For a moment she thought she felt the wings
of the chair give her a hug. She snuggled back tighter in the chair and finished her glass. The sun was almost ready to sizzle as it touched the gulf waters.
“Wait for it, wait for it…” Suddenly there was a flash of green! She stood straight up in the room.
“Did you just see that?” she asked the empty room. “I knew it was true, it’s not just a myth.” Her grandmother had always told her when the conditions were right the setting sun sometimes flashed green just before it disappeared. According to Gram, it was a sign of good luck. Emma had waited all her life, never seeing it until now.
She turned to face her chair. “You saw it too, didn’t you?”
Turning to Charlie’s chair, she pointed a finger at it. “I told you it was true, but NO, I never saw it with you because you didn’t believe. Well what have you got to say now?”
Turning back to the now darkened sky, she told her new Old Friend, “But I saw it, yes I did, and you did too, didn’t you?”
It was a good sign. Spinning around, giddy with laughter, Emma flopped down in the chair. Hearing the Mahogany creek, she giggled. “Oops, sorry, but thank you Old Friend, you brought this to me now, didn’t you?” Tipping the remaining wine from the decanter into her glass, she took a large swallow and settled snuggly back into the wings of the chair.
You’ve lost your soul.
“Go away Charlie,” she slurred. “You left me and never once did I see the green while you were here.” She downed the last of the wine. The world blurred before her eyes as the glass slipped from her fingertips and shattered on the floor.
Her head felt heavy and her chin fell on her chest as she passed out.
The first thing she awoke to was dried drool on her chest. Her mouth felt full of cotton as she slowly opened her eyes. Looking around she realized she had spent the night in her chair. If there was any doubt, her neck and back screamed differently. But nothing compared to the pain she felt when she stood, took her first step, and two shards of glass buried themselves into her foot.
“Owwwwww!” She fell back into the chair. Blood was now dripping onto the chair’s claw foot as she raised it for inspection.
“Christ.” Removing her pajama top, Emma placed it under her foot. Clenching her teeth, she removed both shards. Blood now gushed out, soaking her shirt and the floor beneath it. Carefully getting up, Emma made her way to the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, she flinched when the cold water hit her back as she cleansed the wounds.
After a few minutes of scrubbing she began to think about last night. She couldn’t believe she had passed out. She often drank a bottle of wine, sometimes even two. Maybe she just drank it too fast.
After toweling off quickly, Emma bandaged her foot. It hurt like hell, but the bleeding had slowed, some. “Stupid old woman,” she muttered to herself, before grabbing some cleaning supplies.
After cleaning up the glass in the sitting room and carefully wiping her blood off the claw foot, Emma limped downstairs and set about making her breakfast. It was a shame she’d passed out and missed the storm coming in. After all, there would be no such magnificent sunset tonight. Remembering the green flash did make her smile. It hadn’t been a total loss. She grabbed her bagel and coffee and made her way back to the sitting room. The pain in her foot was nearly gone.
“Good Morning Charlie.” She spoke as she entered and passed his chair. Silence filled the room and her head. She shrugged her shoulders. Sitting down in her chair she watched as the gulf churned outside and the rain pelted on the glass. She had just bit into her bagel when Charlie’s chair suddenly slid across the room and slammed into the wall. Without thinking, Emma wrenched the bagel out of her mouth and threw it at the chair.
She sat in silence, staring for a moment in disbelief.
“What the hell is going on?” Her heart pounded in her chest. “Charlie, are you there?” She quietly asked the room.
Silence was the only response she received.
“Come on Charlie, what is going on?” She asked loudly.
You shouldn’t have bought the chair, EMMA! Charlie’s voice boomed through the room, and with it his chair fell over on its side.
She slammed back into her own chair covering her ears with both hands. Her eyes darted around the room. Her heart was threatening to explode out of her chest. As she leaned forward to get up, the wings of the chair suddenly moved forward, gripping her shoulders and forcing her back against the chair.
“What the hell?” She screamed, trying to lean forward, straining against the chair’s grip on her. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, pounding as terror set in. Beads of sweat formed on her brow while she twisted to and fro trying to loosen her upper body. The wings of the chair only gripped tighter.
“Why are you doing this to me Charlie?” she wailed. “Let me go, you are hurting me.”
Bones in her back began to pop and she could feel her shoulders dislocating. Try as she might, she could not take in a full breath. Sobbing uncontrollably, she heard Charlie on her left side whispering her name. Slowly turning her head to the left she saw him standing by his toppled over chair.
“It’s not me Emma, it’s the chair.” He shook his head sadly.
From the corner of her eye she saw an upholstery nail working its way out of the damask. Slowly it backed out of the wood and turned sideways through the material. It shot straight out and through the fleshy part of her left cheek. She could feel the sharp point touching the side of her tongue and she tasted warm salty blood. She gagged and blood ran from her mouth down the front of her.
Behind her calf she felt movement. Lightning flashed outside the window illuminating the room in white blindness. Rolling her eyes downward she saw her left leg lift straight out in front of her. The claw foot of the chair stretched down to the bottom of her foot. The nails on the claw foot extended out beyond her toes. She watched in horror as they wiggled up and down, clenched and unclenched. They pointed downward for a brief moment then forcefully stabbed up and through the arch of her foot.
She screamed.
The arms of the chair clamped down on her thighs with such a force it broke both femurs simultaneously. Hand wrought iron nails, formally used to hold the mahogany together, now lodged in both sides of her knees. Across her lower back into her hip bones several more went.
Her screams subsided as pain gave way to darkness…
She awoke with a start, terror gripping at her heart, then she realized the chair was not holding her. Jumping up she buried two shards of glass in her foot. She fell backwards on her butt and sat staring at the chair, blood now pooling on the tiled floor.
The chair was perfectly intact. Looking around the room she saw no sign of a coffee cup or flung bagel. Charlie’s chair was sitting inches away in the same spot it had held for years.
She reached to feel her check and looked at the top of her feet. She began to nervously laugh.
“A dream,” she said out loud. “Oh Charlie, it was a crazy dream, a nightmare. Too much wine.” She laughed loudly. Removing her pajama top, she carefully stood up and turned to sit in the chair. Wincing as she removed the two shards of glass, she wrapped her foot with her top. It wasn’t as bad as it had been in the dream. Leaning back into the chair she stroked the arms of the chair.
“Silly me, thinking my new Old Friend would harm me. Good Lord what a friggin’ nightmare.” She relaxed and settled back into the chair.
“And I thought it was you Charlie, I remember that now. I think I even thought you were jealous of the chair, because we both saw the green flash and you never did.” She howled with laughter.
“I must get out more. I don’t think retirement is good for me. Too much alone time for a silly old woman.”
The wings of the chair forcefully wrapped tightly around her. Emma Louise did not even have time to scream as her rib bones drove straight through her heart and lungs.
***
“This house has a strange tale and I inform all prospective buyers up front. The propert
y was in probate for ten years. The owner mysteriously disappeared and was legally declared dead. There were no traces of any living heirs, so the estate became property of the state. Quite frankly, the upkeep is too expensive for the state so the property has been on the market for over six months now. We have reduced the price from fourteen million seven hundred, forty-nine, to thirteen million five. It’s a steal at that cost, with all these antiques, but the state wants to be unburdened.”
Rubbing her hands lovingly over the green damask, Adeline smiled and looked at the realtor.
“I’ll take it.”
Did you ever look up and wonder all the things a ceiling fan witnesses? Some good, some not so good and some, well…you can’t even imagine what some are capable of.
This ceiling fan came to us from Paul D. Marks. He is widely recognized for his work in the noir genre, but every now and then he steps a little further back into the darkness. For more on Paul’s work, visit his website at PaulDMarks.com.
THE LONG NIGHT
Paul D. Marks
MOST people are afraid of the dark. Amanda Pierce is afraid of the light.
Amanda shivers under the thick comforter—it offers little comfort tonight. A waft of icy cold air seeps through the crack in the window. The blanket covers her mouth, her nose. Her eyes. She feels safe under the covers. Well, mostly safe. She wishes she could stuff them in her ears to keep the sounds out or at least muffled.
Everyone’s afraid of the dark, even if they don’t admit it. Monsters under the bed. The bogeyman. Why should Amanda be any different?
A screen of black covers her eyes. She opens them. Not much difference since all she sees is the dark underside of the blanket, dancing silver stars on the material from closing her eyes too tightly. No light coming through.
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