this is a very first draft, please forgive any typos.
Disappearing
by J. Smith Kirkland
Billings looks in the mirror to see if
there is still any reflection left at all. He no longer recognizes
the man staring back at him, but he is still there. The way he feels
at work, on the street, just about everywhere, is invisible. He
always had big plans to travel and paint when he retired, but lately
he is inclined to believe he will simple fade gradually out of
existence. Not dead, just not there.
On his way to and from work everyday,
he passes the little pink house with the sign that reads “Madam
Allusia – Psychic Medium – Readings” followed by a phone
number. He always muses that after he disappears, she might still be
able to see him. Last Tuesday, maybe because he was feeling
exceptionally invisible, he put the number in his phone just in case
he might call it one day. And today he did. He has an appointment
after work.
When he knocks on the door of the
little pink house, he is greeted by a young man, maybe 19 or 20.
“My grandmother will be with you in a
few minutes. Please have a seat at the table in the parlor.”
He motions for Billings to go into a
room just off to the left, and then, and then the young man leaves
the room in the opposite direction. The parlor is dimly lit. There is
a small round table with two chairs. One of the chairs has a deck of
cards, a pad and pen, and a kitchen timer on the table in front of
it. Billings assumes that is Madame Allusia's chair, and sits in the
other. He barley has time to absorb the sparse decorations in the
room before she enters and sits at the table.
“Welcome, Mr. Billings.”
“You can call me Billings. No need
for the mister. People just call me Billings.”
“Well, Billings, have you had a
reading before?”
He answers no, and she explains to him
that she is psychic, but uses the cards to help her focus on his
issues. She goes on to explain the price and how he should feel free
to ask any questions. She ritualistically sets the timer, and has him cut
the deck of cards.
She begins by turning over the cards
one by one and laying them on the table. As she puts a card down, she
studies it and says something about it's meaning. She talks of how
his job is going to change or maybe end soon. She talks about how
there is a new love in the near future, maybe 3 to 6 months. He
doesn't hear some of what she says because he is focusing on how she
squints at each card as she lays it on the table as if it is talking
to her, telling her what to say. She continues until the oven timer
dings. Billings jerks a little when the noise startles him. Then she
says the one thing he will remember from the session.
“The universe is waiting to give you
what you want. But you have to decide what that is. Perhaps you
should go to a place of solitude to contemplate.”
At work, Billings is having trouble
concentrating. His thoughts keep going to the words “a place of
solitude.” He decides that for him it means hiking in the
mountains. He plans a vacation day to make his escape to one of his
favorite trails.
On his way to the trailhead, Billing
sees a “cabin for sale”. The sign is small. There is no realtor
logo, just a phone number, and not bright colors like most for sale
signs. It would be easy to miss, almost camouflaged, almost
invisible. He pulls over to check it out. There is barely parking
for one car on the side of the road at the sign. The sign is at the
beginning of what is more of a trail than a driveway. It used to be a
driveway, but the edges have been closing in for years perhaps. So
now it's not wide enough to drive up. Billings is not looking for a
cabin, but something is intriguing about the way the trail and the
sign seem to be hiding from the world, or maybe trying to hide the
cabin. So he begins walking up the trail.
It's a nice walk. The ups and downs are
not too steep, and for a little while the trail follows a small creek
that laughs and babbles over the rocks. Just as Billings is wondering
if there is a cabin, he sees the rooftop peaking out from between the
leaves. It's a nice little cabin. A porch runs across the front of
it. The door in the center with a window on each side. It looks like
someone has taken good care of it.
He walks up on the porch and peaks in
the window. There is some furniture in the room, a table, two chairs,
a couch. The other end of the room has a kitchen and a door to what
must be a bedroom. He supposes he was expecting a weathered old
shack, but the cabin is looks homey. Maybe not homey, comfortable.
Billings thinks as he peers in. Familiar. It feels familiar.
“Do you like it,” a voice queries
from behind him.
Billings turns to see an old man, unkempt grey hair sticking out from under a fisherman hat.
“Didn't mean to startle you.”
“That's okay. Do you own the place?”
“I live here.”
Billings looks at the woods around the
cabin. You can still hear the creek, though you can't see it through
the mountain laurel.
“I didn't mean to trespass.”
The old man laughs, “You're not
trespassing. And there is a for sale sign.”
“It's a nice place,” he tells the
old man.
“It is. It's a good place. It saved
my life once. Go on in and look around.”
Billing opens the creaking door and
enters the cabin. He wonders how a place could save someone's life,
but once inside, the old man continues.
“One day I looked in the mirror and
there was no one there. Then I found this place, nestled here in the
middle of paradise. I found it wasn't too far from the state park,
where they have nature walks, and lessons on all the flora and
history of these hills. Ended up leading some of those hikes, and
teaching lessons. And one day I looked in that mirror over there, and
I saw me. Not just my shadow.”
Billings looks toward the mirror on the
other side of the room, and walks toward it.
“I know that feeling.”
He looks in the mirror, and just for a
brief moment, instead of his face he sees the old man's. He thinks it
was a trick of the light, the angle of the mirror, but when he turns
around to see where the old man is standing, he's not there at all.
Billings looks to see if he is on the porch, but the man has
vanished.
A couple of months have passed since he
saw the old man. Billings puts the box of stuff from his desk into
his car. No retirement party. He is not even sure they will notice he
is gone. After all, he became invisible years before. Before he
drives off to go to his new cabin, he looks at himself in the
rear view mirror. No old man, no shadow of a stranger, just himself.
Then he thinks, “I recognize that face.”
Story A Day Framework
A retiring man is searching for answers
about the meaning of life.
So he goes to a psychic who tells him
the universe is waiting for him to decide what he wants
and because of that he goes to the
mountains for solitude to reflect on what he wants
and because of that he finds a ghost of
an old man in a cabin who tells him stories
until the retiring man finds his answer
and buys the cabin
Great short!
ReplyDelete