There were no lights. Which was not a surprise, given he had never ventured into the back room. It didn’t feel like ordinary darkness. It seemed almost viscous, like an unpleasant syrup.
“Hold on,” Grant said as he fumbled for a light switch.
His fingers finally found it and, with a sharp click, turned on the lights. Good thing too, as an abrupt stairway, downward appeared just inside.
“Watch your step,” He warned Ms. Aradia.
“I always do,” she replied.
They sank down the narrow, wooden steps, creaking with each tread. Grant felt her presence behind him, gently but inexorably urging him deeper. If he had to guess, they were at least two hundred feet below the street. Finally, they arrived at a landing with another door. This one bore a sign with the word CAUTION.
“Are you sure you want to go in?” he asked.
“Why would I go back?” she asked.
Grant pointed at the CAUTION sign.
Ms. Aradia laughed. It was light and airy, and it made him shudder for reasons he couldn’t grasp.
“Oh, Grant, where would any of us be if we let signs scare us?”
Not here, sprung to mind immediately, but he said nothing. Turning the doorknob, he found it was locked. He was about to use that as an excuse to turn back when Ms. Aradia said, “The key you used upstairs should open this door as well.”
It did.
Much like before, it was dark in here. Reaching for where the switch was upstairs, he flicked it on. With clock-like precision, bulbs illuminated rows upon rows of shelves filled with items, stretching off further than made any rational sense.
Grant whispered an expletive.
“Well said,” offered Ms. Aradia.
His theory of this being some sort of tax dodge for a billionaire seemed likely right about now. This storeroom was enormous, larger than this neighborhood. How rich did you have to be to have this built AND keep it a secret?
“Shall we begin?” asked Ms. Aradia, though it sounded less like a question and more like a command.
“Listen, I’ve never been down here. I don’t even know what’s here.”
She placed a well-manicured hand on his shoulder and said, “Then this will be an adventure for both of us!”
Grant fought the urge to run back up to the store and instead nodded as they walked into this labyrinth of stuff.
He had thought that there was a lot of useless junk upstairs. That was just a handful of trinkets compared to this monstrous vault. Each thing had a card affixed below it with a description and a price.
Transistor Radio-Only receives talk stations-Ten Dollars and Fifty-Six Cents.
Hat Pin-Bent at a Ninety Degree Angle-Seven Dollars and Thirty Cents.
Kaleidoscope-Cannot turn-Nine Dollars and Ten Cents.
And so on. Ms. Aradia inspected each item quickly, thank God, and then moved on to the next. Once they finished one row, Grant had to check the higher shelves. Along the shelves was a sliding ladder, providing him access. Ms. Aradia did not offer to climb up, so it was up to him to do that and read the descriptions.
“A marionette with all its strings tangled?”
“No, I think not.”
“Okay,” he said, sliding to the next one, “Hungarian family bible, water damaged.”
“How warped is it?”
“Pretty warped. It’s not lying flat.”
“Let’s move on.”
“Right, next is a worn, green velvet ring box, ring missing.”
“Oh no, thank you.”
This went on for quite a while. Grant was getting hungry. It was way past lunchtime, based on his stomach. He had planned to go to Penilli’s, two blocks over, and get a meatball sub. They made really good meatball subs. Clearly, that wasn’t happening. There was a Kit Kat bar in his jacket, but that was hanging upstairs. He sighed.
“Is there a problem?” enquired Ms. Aradia.
“Nope, everything’s okay,” he lied.
Without sunlight or a watch (he wasn’t a watch guy), it was impossible to know how long this had been going on. He could take out his phone, but something told him that wasn’t the right thing to do. Though he couldn’t say why.
After what could’ve been years, but obviously not, Grant read one more description from a top shelf.
“Redcurrent Pastilles Tin-Contents Unknown-Eight Dollars and Ninety-Two Cents.”
Ms. Aradia did not reply.
“Hello?”
“Pardon me. I was… Could you please repeat that?”
“Sure. Redcurrent Pastilles Tin-Contents Unknown-Eight Dollars and Ninety-Two Cents.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, could you please describe the tin?”
Too much trouble had already left town and was off to parts unknown.
“No problem. It looks like metal, sorta gold colored. The lid has flowers in the corners and some writing, but that’s all worn. I can’t make out what it says.”
“Please pick it up and give it a little shake, if you would be so kind.”
Grant paused. He had touched the things in the store, which he had to do when dusting. He reached out but stopped before he touched it. Turning back, he asked, “Should I just bring it down to you?”
“Just shake it, please, gently, and listen to the sound.”
It was an odd request, but no odder than the rest of this day. He picked it up and gave it a little shake. It rattled, like it was filled with something hard. Candies, or buttons, or maybe washers. There was another sound, a faint buzzing. He stopped and listened, but it was gone, if it was there at all.
“What did you hear?” Ms. Aradia wanted to know.
“It rattled, like there was something hard in there.”
“Was that it?”
“Yeah. Well, I thought…”
“What did you think?” she asked with a tone that suggested that she knew there was more.
“It’s silly.”
“No silly answers, Grant.”
“Well, I thought I heard a buzzing.”
“Outstanding!” she cried out.
“Is this the thing you’re looking for?”
“It is indeed, Grant!”
He put the tin in his pocket and climbed down the ladder. Ms Aradia was beaming with delight.
“Excellent work! I am wholly satisfied with your aid in this matter.”
Satisfied, that meant that they could leave.
“I’m happy to hear that. Let’s go upstairs, and we’ll settle up.”
“May I hold it, with your permission, of course.”
“Why not?” he said, handing it to her.
She ran her hands over the old, faded lid. Then, quite suddenly, she shook it violently. The rattling seemed loud and sharp, but the buzzing made his blood run cold. He had been afraid before, but this was another matter entirely. He couldn’t move or speak. He was paralyzed.
“Grant, you’ve been an absolute dream. I couldn’t ask for a better helper. I’m afraid to say, I shan’t be seeing you again, though it breaks my heart. Tata!”
She blew him a kiss and sashayed off. He couldn’t follow where she was going, but he could hear the click-clack of her high heels as she got further and further away. Then, the darkness.
If it was hard to tell how long he had been here with the lights on, it was impossible to know in the pitch blackness. Grant lived his whole life in the city and had never encountered this sort of stygian obscurity before. Combined with the paralysis, he thought he might be having a panic attack.
He wasn’t.
Yet.
When he heard a scrabbling in the dark, as if things with far too many legs were rapidly skittering towards him.
That’s when the panic attack properly set in. He started to pant and became dizzy. If the lights were on, he would’ve noticed tunnel vision. As his heart beat faster and faster, he crouched down, putting his head between his knees.
If only he could move.
Wait. He did move!
Standing quickly, he got a new batch of vertigo, and he had to reach out and grab a shelf to steady himself. Help, he needed help. The clicking grew louder.
PHONE!
He pulled out his phone, ready to call nine one one, but he had zero bars down here. Damn. He pressed the flashlight. Spinning around, he saw… Nothing. Well, the shelves and the junk on them, but no creatures or machines. Whatever was making that unnerving noise was nowhere to be seen. Time to move.
Grant found his way back to the doorway, went through it, then up the stairs. He flung open the top door and stumbled in. Ms. Aradia had a little pile of items in front of her and was currently examining a cornhusk doll. She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at his appearance.
“Grant, what an unexpected pleasure,” she lied.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted, “You tried to kill me over some Goddamned junk?”
“You don’t even know, do you?”
“I know I’m going to call the cops!” he said, brandishing his phone.
“And what exactly are you going to say?”
“That you, you know, stunned me and left me in the dark!”
She fixed him with a very dubious stare.
“Fine then. I’ll just call the owner.”
She put down the cornhusk doll and took a step towards him.
“Now, Grant, let’s not be hasty.”
Having had enough of this nonsense, he was about to press OWNER on his phone when he saw that she had taken out the tin from her pocket. Grabbing her wrist before she could shake it again, Grant discovered she was surprisingly strong.
“Give it back!” he insisted.
“I must decline your offer,” she said.
They struggled briefly, but she flung him backwards toward the door. Just as he lost his grip on her wrist, he grabbed for the tin, sending it flying across the floor. Grant hit his head and was stunned for a moment. In that instant, he heard a sound like a great gust of wind, followed by a metallic snap. Then, only stillness.
Opening his eyes, Ms. Aradia was gone. Wincing, he got up and looked around. The pile of junk she was interested in remained on the counter. In the corner was the tin. Picking it up gingerly, making very sure not to shake it, he went back into the storeroom. Returning it to its place, adding a sticky note with a skull and crossbones to the label.
As he went upward, he made sure the doors were locked. Both of them. When he was straightening up, Grant considered calling the owner, asking him what the hell was going on. As he thought about it, some questions maybe shouldn’t be answered.
Instead, he sat down, opened his book, and ate his Kit-Kat bar. It wasn’t a meatball sub from Penilli’s, but it was here, and so was he.
THE END
The Writings of Leo Byrne Jenicek 
