Our good friend
TRAVIS does what he calls
"WORDS FOR WEDNESDAY", as opposed to
Wordless Wednesday.
We like his idea we have never been one to be silent here on
THE COUCH.
This short story has been sitting on our computer for about a month now. It wrote itself one day while we were eating lunch at our desk. Inspiration comes when it comes...
We hope you enjoy...
WE CALL IT:
"FIGURINE"
![[couchdivider.gif]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCGg_QJtbYzOxDld6-_8chss5UyTlVmChuN_dvVmL5q_KIElBGlMJaTRpW-e8EX8aA_-xIefdl2SiLUe1iCp6oAQqNz41oNVy5BQ0kOW1XOlu7qq5BaxdzUpydJAvGdKvuDrN/s1600/couchdivider.gif)
He looked at the mantle above the fireplace and sighed. The space next to the plant was vacant. No, not just vacant, there was a hole…a void, a hollowness that he could not believe.
The figurine was the most beautiful piece he had ever laid eyes on. That day, two years ago when he was ambling through the shops was beautiful, sun shining, the sky a rich cloudless blue…he will always remember the day, no matter how many more he walked the earth.
Not looking for anything special, he was just enjoying himself, treating himself to a day alone. Then he saw it. It was hidden with a number of other less desirable figurines. They were all special in their own way, but this one…well, this one sparkled.
He reached out carefully, his fingertips touching one of the others, and feeling the cold of it’s surface. They wrapped around this special one and he could feel his fingertips begin to tingle. This was a special gift. There was no doubt.
The marble, normally cold to the touch, was awash in a warmth he did not think possible...It was almost frightening to him how wonderful this figurine felt. Could anything be this good? Could anything hold this much warmth?
Lifting it slowly, he turned it over in his hands, examining it and allowing himself to be swallowed by its beauty. As he turned it to look at the bottom, his heart dropped. There on the bottom was a tiny sticker. One word written in the scratchy hand of the store owner, he presumed. The one word...
"SOLD".
Walking over to the counter where the old man sat, silently reading the morning paper, he spoke up,
“Excuse me?” the man spoke quietly. The shop owner looked up and smiled, and then his eyes trailed to the figurine in the customers hand and his eyes saddened, but just for an instant.
“Can I help you young man?” the old man spoke. His voice was rough, but filled with a wisdom that was unmistakable.
“Yes, I saw this incredible figurine and I have fallen in love with it. But, I see it says “sold” on the bottom. Is this true? If it is sold, why is it still on the shelf?”“Well, you see son, a man did buy that figurine. He paid in cash and told me he would be returning that day to pick it up. I have not seen him again, but since he paid, I need to keep the sticker on and not resell it. I am sorry, there are many other fine figurines here, maybe we can find you anoth…”“No, that is fine. This is the one I want. If it is not for sale, then I shall move on and continue my day.”With that, he walked out of the shop, a quick glance backward allowing him to see the shop owner tenderly replacing the figurine where it had been before…
That night he had a dream of the figurine. His dream showed him holding the figurine, showing his friends, bragging about how special it was and how it was all his.
When he woke he knew he had to have it. He began to stop back every day and ask the shop owner if he could buy it. Eventually, the old man would have to capitulate and allow him to own this beautiful object.
Every day he stopped. Every day he looked and held the figurine. Every day the shop owner tried to sell him another figurine, and refused to sell the one he truly wanted.
Then, one day he stopped by and nodded to the owner. The owner gave him a smile and the man wondered why it seemed different today. He walked over to the table and slowly lifted the object of his desire. It once again tingled in his fingertips as he held it. It was warm to his touch…and it felt different. He could not figure out how and why, but immediately he knew there was a difference.
Slowly, ever so slowly he tilted the precious item in his hand and looked at the bottom. It was empty. No little sticker…no scratchy handwriting.
His head shot up and turned to look at the old man behind the counter. The old man sat smiling, his eyes sparkling…
"Yes, young man…it is for sale again. The gentleman who purchased it came in yesterday and told me he could not purchase it. He didn’t even ask for his money back…he just told me and turned and walked out of the store."The man looked again at the figurine. Could it be true? Was he really about to finally own this incredible piece? He looked at the owner and said
“Name your price, anything…it is worth it.”The store owner quoted the price of the figurine. The man was shocked. It was expensive, no doubt, but in the end he would have paid triple the price. This is the one piece he had always imagined owning...and that dream was about to become reality.
That was a year ago now…and today, sitting on his couch looking at the emptiness of the mantle, he cried. Long, hard tears flowed down his face…how could it be? How could it have been taken from him?
He wondered if he were to blame. When he first brought the figurine home, he worshiped it. Every morning he would walk over to the mantle and gently touch the figurine. Every evening just before he got into bed he did the same. Every day…day after day….
About a month ago, something had come up in the morning and hen he left for work, he forgot to touch his figurine. He thought of it on his ride to work and even throughout the day. That night when he got home he walked directly to the mantle and whispered
“I am sorry for leaving you alone for the day.”But it happened once or twice more over the next couple of weeks. It was not that he loved his figurine any less; on the contrary, his love for it only grew stronger and stronger every day. His mind was distracted by problems with family and work. When he sat at night he always had a view of the figurine.
He had a couple of days away and was not there to touch his figurine. He missed it awfully and would close his eyes and picture it sitting there.
When he arrived home yesterday, he walked directly to the mantle and looked...and his heart sank.
It was gone…He looked all over his house…he knew he had not moved it, but he had to look anyway.
NOTHING!He called for help, but no one he spoke with could give him an answer.
It was gone. Someone had come and taken it from right under his nose. Someone else was touching his figurine. Someone else was enjoying its beauty. Someone else was smiling, as the tears flowed down his face.
The next day he went to the shop and when he walked in the owner looked up at him. The man felt strange, there was no recognition in the owner's eyes, surely he could not have forgotten me already, could he?
“Hello, may I help you?” the shop owner spoke.
“Yes, the figurine I bought from you was stolen the other day and I am very saddened by it. I was wondering if you knew if there was another one like it anywhere.”“You must be mistaken; I do not remember selling you any figurine. I remember you coming in and admiring one, but it was sold I told you that. I was just waiting for the owner to come back. ”“Yes, yes, and I kept coming back every day and finally, you sold it to me a year ago...a stunningly beautiful figurine…please can you help me, where can I find one like it?”
"As far as another one like it, that was a one-of-a-kind piece. There are none like it anywhere." The owner continued, "Son, you never bought that figurine. The man who purchased it came back in and picked it up. He apologized for being delayed, but was excited to see I had not sold it and he was able to walk out of the shop with it. He was really beaming.”“BUT, you sold it to ME!” the man cried….
“Sorry son, I think you must have imagined that last part. I could never sell you something that belonged to another…”The man walked out of the shop just as it began to rain. All around him people were scurrying here and there to not get wet, but he just walked, head down, staring at the spot on the sidewalk where his next step would land.
The rain poured down on him, soaking every inch of fabric on his body, but nothing was as wet as his face from the tears streaming from his eyes…and he just walked…and walked…and walked…
ORIGINAL FICTION VEM2007
CREDITS:
"HIDDEN TREASURE"
Traffic
"Low Spark of High Heeled Boys"
Composers: Steve Winwood & Jim Capaldi
Take a walk down by, take a walk down by the river
There's a lot that you, there's a lot that you can learn
If you've got a mind that's open, if you've got a heart that yearns
If you listen to, if you listen to the water
You will hear the sound, you will hear the sound of life
There's a million different voices, there is happiness and strife
Message in the deep, from a strange eternal sleep
That is waiting there, that is waiting there for you
Like hidden treasure
Check out the other participants by clicking on his link to the left...and join in!
