The morning continued, and so did the rain. The sound of it drowned out the ticking of Vitus' collection of hand-crafted grandfather clocks and, with that, his perception of time altogether.
Just before 11:00 (or maybe it was 11:30, Vitus was still so rattled that he couldn't be bothered to check his pocket watch or glance at the multitude of clocks in the general vicinity), the door swung open once again. Vitus braced himself, half-expecting to find another bulky shadow in the open frame and the overwhelming scent of musky cologne. Moments (or maybe seconds) later, a thin girl with short hair stepped into the shop--Jenn. She shook her umbrella briefly out the door before tossing it carelessly on the floor and rustled her short, dark hair. She looked up at Vitus and smiled, and for some reason that he could not explain, his heart began to beat just a little bit faster.
"Good morning," said a Jenn. A cherry-flavored cough drop rattled against her perfect teeth.
"How was class?" Vitus found himself asking.
"I think I'm finally getting the hang of it. My arms are still sore, though," she replied, rubbing her shoulder as she stepped up to the front desk. Their's was an unusual friendship, and one mostly contained within the antique-dealer's shop. Jenn did most of the talking, of course, constantly questioning the minutiae of her day-to-day life. Vitus didn't mind, though. He was never one to be described as loquacious, but he had always been an extraordinary listener, as he had been told on multiple occasions. The truth was that they were both very lonely people, both secretly longing to leave this small town behind, but neither had the courage to say this. Instead, they enjoyed their friendship for what it was--a series of brief encounters that kept their lives from being completely empty, and everyday they talked about old movies and classic books (the sort of topics that brought Vitus' tongue to life) and the newest acquisitions to the shop. Jenn had free reign around the store, even behind the counter where no one else was ever allowed to go.
But now, Vitus still had the large man from earlier in the morning on his mind, so when Jenn asked if she had missed anything exciting, Vitus' eyes lit up, and he launched straight into the story.
"Wow," she said as he finished his tale.
"See? Antique sales can be exciting."
"Wow," she repeated. "God, I wish I'd been here."
"Well, Korova, you need to get your priorities straight," Vitus mocked. "You can learn yoga at any time, but belligerent Taft impersonators only come around so often."
"Oh, shut up," she said, and then she paused, hesitating for a moment brief enough for Vitus to wonder what she would say next. "Hey, you know what we should do? We should go to that new sushi place next door after you close up tonight. We need to do something if you're going to be gone next week."
On a previous day, Vitus had mentioned that he would be gone for a week, asked to deliver a particular piece to a peculiar client. The piece in question was the settee he believed Jacobi had been seeking. The client in question was in Russia.
"That sounds like a good idea," Vitus replied. His lips were shaking. "I close at five."
"See you then," said Jenn, and then she headed straight to the door, scooped up her umbrella, and disappeared out into the rain.
Vitus swallowed hard and adjusted his tie.
By his sixth cup of sake, Vitus had come to realize that his tie was missing. Jenn moaned beside him, her head buried against the table.
"Vitus," she mumbled. "So what about you?"
"What about what about me?"
"Anything. I come into your store and talk to you everyday, but you hardly ever talk about yourself. Don't get me wrong, you're a great listener and all, but I want to know more about you. So spill it. What's your story?"
"It's a ghost story. You wouldn't like it."
"Ghost stories are my favorites. Try me."
"Okay," said Vitus. There was no way out. He quickly glanced around the room, noting the restrooms and emergency exits just in case. Luckily, the sake had loosened his tongue. "Once there was a boy, and his life was full of disappointment. He had only as many friends as he needed and stayed out of everyone else's way. Still, everything he'd ever done or said or regretted haunted him at night, so once he was old enough, he ran away from home. He didn't stop until he ran out of room to run, so he settled down and began a new life for himself and pretended to be normal. Then he drank some sake. The end." Vitus sipped his sake and stared into the empty cup. Jenn's hand immediately appeared in front of him, the bottle in tow, and she filled his cup to the brim.
"To ghost stories," she said, holding her cup out. Vitus tapped it with his own and took a long sip. "Vitus, I have to tell you something."
"Okay," he managed to reply.
"I'm a little bit drunk."
"That's okay," said Vitus. "So am I."
"Why do you have to be gone next week? You should stay here with me, or else I'm gonna be so bored. We can come back here again, if you want."
"I wish I could," he replied, telling the absolute truth in spite of all the sake. "But they're sending a plane for me."
"That sounds fun," she said, stumbling over her words ever so slightly.
"Yeah. You know what? You should come with me." In that same instance, Vitus was as sober as he had ever been, and he realized what he had just done. He had invited the woman he secretly, unknowingly loved to spend a week with him in Russia, and he had never been more terrified.
"Really?"
Vitus hesitated, knowing that he couldn't back out now. The words had been said. They weren't his anymore. They left his mouth, traveling across the table to where Jenn dejectedly sat, only to invigorate her spirit. "Sure," he said.
"Thank you, Vitus! It'll be fun, and I'll behave. Promise."
Vitus did not reply. He began to push the sake away, but then decided to take one last gulp. His mouth hung open, his expression vacant, and he absolutely had no idea whether he should be happy or afraid. He quickly excused himself to pay the tab, and then they left. The rain had passed now, so Vitus walked Jenn three blocks to her home before heading back to his own in the opposite direction. As he passed by the sushi restaurant (and his own shop) once again, he noticed his necktie, for no particular reason, wrapped around his left ankle. He thought nothing of it and also nothing of the long black car parked across the street as he made his way home. It was late, it was dark, and all Vitus wanted at the moment was a nice, long rest.
Once there, he slung off his clothes and climbed atop his sleigh bed, not even bothering to crawl beneath the covers as he waited for sleep and the sobering dreams that were bound to come with it.
Just before 11:00 (or maybe it was 11:30, Vitus was still so rattled that he couldn't be bothered to check his pocket watch or glance at the multitude of clocks in the general vicinity), the door swung open once again. Vitus braced himself, half-expecting to find another bulky shadow in the open frame and the overwhelming scent of musky cologne. Moments (or maybe seconds) later, a thin girl with short hair stepped into the shop--Jenn. She shook her umbrella briefly out the door before tossing it carelessly on the floor and rustled her short, dark hair. She looked up at Vitus and smiled, and for some reason that he could not explain, his heart began to beat just a little bit faster.
"Good morning," said a Jenn. A cherry-flavored cough drop rattled against her perfect teeth.
"How was class?" Vitus found himself asking.
"I think I'm finally getting the hang of it. My arms are still sore, though," she replied, rubbing her shoulder as she stepped up to the front desk. Their's was an unusual friendship, and one mostly contained within the antique-dealer's shop. Jenn did most of the talking, of course, constantly questioning the minutiae of her day-to-day life. Vitus didn't mind, though. He was never one to be described as loquacious, but he had always been an extraordinary listener, as he had been told on multiple occasions. The truth was that they were both very lonely people, both secretly longing to leave this small town behind, but neither had the courage to say this. Instead, they enjoyed their friendship for what it was--a series of brief encounters that kept their lives from being completely empty, and everyday they talked about old movies and classic books (the sort of topics that brought Vitus' tongue to life) and the newest acquisitions to the shop. Jenn had free reign around the store, even behind the counter where no one else was ever allowed to go.
But now, Vitus still had the large man from earlier in the morning on his mind, so when Jenn asked if she had missed anything exciting, Vitus' eyes lit up, and he launched straight into the story.
"Wow," she said as he finished his tale.
"See? Antique sales can be exciting."
"Wow," she repeated. "God, I wish I'd been here."
"Well, Korova, you need to get your priorities straight," Vitus mocked. "You can learn yoga at any time, but belligerent Taft impersonators only come around so often."
"Oh, shut up," she said, and then she paused, hesitating for a moment brief enough for Vitus to wonder what she would say next. "Hey, you know what we should do? We should go to that new sushi place next door after you close up tonight. We need to do something if you're going to be gone next week."
On a previous day, Vitus had mentioned that he would be gone for a week, asked to deliver a particular piece to a peculiar client. The piece in question was the settee he believed Jacobi had been seeking. The client in question was in Russia.
"That sounds like a good idea," Vitus replied. His lips were shaking. "I close at five."
"See you then," said Jenn, and then she headed straight to the door, scooped up her umbrella, and disappeared out into the rain.
Vitus swallowed hard and adjusted his tie.
***
By his sixth cup of sake, Vitus had come to realize that his tie was missing. Jenn moaned beside him, her head buried against the table.
"Vitus," she mumbled. "So what about you?"
"What about what about me?"
"Anything. I come into your store and talk to you everyday, but you hardly ever talk about yourself. Don't get me wrong, you're a great listener and all, but I want to know more about you. So spill it. What's your story?"
"It's a ghost story. You wouldn't like it."
"Ghost stories are my favorites. Try me."
"Okay," said Vitus. There was no way out. He quickly glanced around the room, noting the restrooms and emergency exits just in case. Luckily, the sake had loosened his tongue. "Once there was a boy, and his life was full of disappointment. He had only as many friends as he needed and stayed out of everyone else's way. Still, everything he'd ever done or said or regretted haunted him at night, so once he was old enough, he ran away from home. He didn't stop until he ran out of room to run, so he settled down and began a new life for himself and pretended to be normal. Then he drank some sake. The end." Vitus sipped his sake and stared into the empty cup. Jenn's hand immediately appeared in front of him, the bottle in tow, and she filled his cup to the brim.
"To ghost stories," she said, holding her cup out. Vitus tapped it with his own and took a long sip. "Vitus, I have to tell you something."
"Okay," he managed to reply.
"I'm a little bit drunk."
"That's okay," said Vitus. "So am I."
"Why do you have to be gone next week? You should stay here with me, or else I'm gonna be so bored. We can come back here again, if you want."
"I wish I could," he replied, telling the absolute truth in spite of all the sake. "But they're sending a plane for me."
"That sounds fun," she said, stumbling over her words ever so slightly.
"Yeah. You know what? You should come with me." In that same instance, Vitus was as sober as he had ever been, and he realized what he had just done. He had invited the woman he secretly, unknowingly loved to spend a week with him in Russia, and he had never been more terrified.
"Really?"
Vitus hesitated, knowing that he couldn't back out now. The words had been said. They weren't his anymore. They left his mouth, traveling across the table to where Jenn dejectedly sat, only to invigorate her spirit. "Sure," he said.
"Thank you, Vitus! It'll be fun, and I'll behave. Promise."
Vitus did not reply. He began to push the sake away, but then decided to take one last gulp. His mouth hung open, his expression vacant, and he absolutely had no idea whether he should be happy or afraid. He quickly excused himself to pay the tab, and then they left. The rain had passed now, so Vitus walked Jenn three blocks to her home before heading back to his own in the opposite direction. As he passed by the sushi restaurant (and his own shop) once again, he noticed his necktie, for no particular reason, wrapped around his left ankle. He thought nothing of it and also nothing of the long black car parked across the street as he made his way home. It was late, it was dark, and all Vitus wanted at the moment was a nice, long rest.
Once there, he slung off his clothes and climbed atop his sleigh bed, not even bothering to crawl beneath the covers as he waited for sleep and the sobering dreams that were bound to come with it.
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