It was a shit gig and Carson knew it, but it couldn\u2019t be helped. It seemed that no one was interested in hiring someone in their eighties nowadays. Never mind that he still had all of his faculties and was fit as a fiddle. Granted, maybe it was a fiddle with just three strings, but that was two more than most. It also didn\u2019t seem to matter that he wasn\u2019t talking to himself, drooling the hours away in some home or that he could hold a conversation for more than ten seconds without having to check a smart phone.<\/p>\n
Carson heard Derrick, his boss, coming in downstairs. A few moments later, he heard the footfalls on the steps and knew the weasel would be making an appearance any moment, and the peace and quiet would be shattered. <\/p>\n
\u201cKnock, knock,\u201d Derrick said, \u201cDaddy\u2019s home.\u201d<\/p>\n
He said the same joke every night and it was as tired and worn out as the man\u2019s god awful hair piece. He looked ridiculous and couldn\u2019t help but be an asshole. After all, the kid was young enough to be his great grandson and born during the first Clinton administration for Chrissakes. What the hell could he possibly know?<\/p>\n
\u201cHow are things going for you this fine evening Carson?\u201d<\/p>\n
Honestly, he was tired, dead tired, but he wasn\u2019t about to tell the idiot that. He didn\u2019t sleep much at all anymore, no matter what he tried. The clock would tick the hours by one by one and he\u2019d still be awake staring at the ceiling. If he happened to nod off, it didn\u2019t last long, things whispering and reaching.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re going, just like they always are. I\u2019m still here farting dust and you\u2019re still showing up every night smelling it. You know, I think sometimes you just show up to work to see if I\u2019m dead in this chair.\u201d<\/p>\n
That seemed to fluster Derrick.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not true at all. I fully expect you to outlive all of us here Carson. Do you ever take a day off?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did for about a decade when I retired, but it didn\u2019t take. I had to find something to do or I\u2019d lose my crackers. Besides, I\u2019m not one for sleeping much these days.\u201d<\/p>\n
His grandmother once told him when he was a little boy that she didn\u2019t sleep much either. When he spent nights at her house, she\u2019d pace all night, her slippers shuffling along the hardwood floors. She told him it was because all the people on the other side were constantly scratching at the door and it was wearing thin. Sometimes, she\u2019d said, you could hear them whisper too, which is why she played music most of the time. When it was too quiet those voices were clearer.<\/p>\n
Carson wasn\u2019t sure if he believed her or not, but he knew his grandmother was bat-shit crazy toward the end. He sure hoped he didn\u2019t go out like that. It wasn\u2019t like he was hearing voices or anything, but those things his grandmother told him still lingered at the back of his mind.<\/p>\n
\u201cBad dreams?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t answer, not wanting to tempt the things from his dreams. It was bad enough they didn\u2019t stay put and surprised him from time to time, lurking in the cellar or whispering to him on the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, nothing like that. Don\u2019t have much need for dreaming at my age. Nobody does. I\u2019ve already seen it all and done it all.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat so?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat it is.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeems like there\u2019s probably a thing or two you haven\u2019t done yet. I mean in this great wide world where anything is possible, there are always things coming you didn\u2019t even think of.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t say?\u201d Carson asked, making sure his keys were secure at his belt, not really paying all that much attention to Derrick.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, yeah, I mean what about sky diving?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDone it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShut up. Really?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, except when I jumped out of planes people were shooting at me, you know, in the war. After that, how much fun can just jumping out of an airplane be?\u201d<\/p>\n
Derrick was quiet, just staring at him, an odd expression on his face. Carson took that as his cue.<\/p>\n
\u201cGoing to make the rounds.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSounds good Carson. When you get back I\u2019m going to go out for some coffee. We\u2019re out.\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t answer, just saluted to indicate he understood. Standing up, having to wait a moment for the dizziness to pass, just like he always did, Carson picked up his flashlight and stepped out of the control booth on the second floor. Shutting the door, the sound echoing throughout the art museum, Carson walked down the hallway to the main display room.<\/p>\n
It didn\u2019t matter how old he was, Carson didn\u2019t like wandering through the place when it was completely dark. Maybe it was from watching too many Twilight Zones or reading too many Weird Tales comics as a kid, but something about it made him a little uneasy. The shadows sometimes seemed a little thicker than they should be in certain places. It made him wonder if something was crouched there salivating at the thought of sucking on his bones.<\/p>\n
Why did he do that to himself? Now, he\u2019d probably not be able to sleep at all with that thought bouncing around in his head. Wonderful.<\/p>\n
Turning on his flashlight, he directed the beam into the corner behind a marble bust of an artist whose name he couldn\u2019t pronounce. His dusty heart lurched awkwardly for a beat or two as a section of darkness leapt away and seemed to vaporize into other shadows around him.<\/p>\n
The beam cut through the darkness as he looked for the movement, but he never found it again. He had to wait a few moments to get his breathing under control, hating that he was old. It was just a damned shadow for crying out loud.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarson, this is Derrick, over.\u201d<\/p>\n
The static of his radio broke through the darkness in a squawk of sound, his heart skipping a beat.<\/p>\n
Wouldn\u2019t that be perfect? Death by static.
\n
\nThe walkie-talkie was another thing he hated about the job. Why did that idiot need to say it was Derrick? Who else would be radioing him? He always had to add his name at the end of the transmission as if there was someone else here in the building using the walkie-talkies.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s up Derrick?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease use proper protocol, over.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dear God, take me now.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure thing,\u201d Carson said, pausing while counting to three, knowing it was driving Derrick nuts on the other end, before adding, \u201cOver.\u201d<\/p>\n
Derrick cleared his throat, obviously irritated before saying, \u201cOne of the sensors in the main gallery tripped. What\u2019s your location? Over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m just getting ready to enter the main gallery, over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou see anything up there? Over.\u201d<\/p>\n
Didn\u2019t the idiot think that if he did, he\u2019d call down to him? It wasn\u2019t like anything ever happened while they were on rounds. They didn\u2019t have invaluable pieces of art in the museum, if anything they had all the leftover crap that no other gallery wanted.<\/p>\n
\u201cNope.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe it\u2019s another mouse.\u201d<\/p>\n
He almost told Derrick to use proper protocol, but decided he just wanted to finish his rounds so he could go pop a squat at his desk and relax.<\/p>\n
\u201cCould be, I guess. Nothing\u2019s been getting into the food in the office though. I\u2019ll keep my eyes peeled. Over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRoger that. Over.\u201d Derrick said, as he crunched a mouthful of what Carson guessed were Frito\u2019s.<\/p>\n
\u201cOver and out,\u201d Carson said, sliding the walkie back into the holster on his belt, wondering what he did wrong in a past life to be saddled with Derrick every night.<\/p>\n
Despite his misgivings about his boss, he knew he had a job to do. He stood still a moment and listened. Sounds always seemed to stretch out and get lost in the big rooms, but he listened anyway. Not hearing anything, Carson walked into the main gallery, his footfalls echoing. The ceiling somewhere high above him was lost in the darkness, the massive tapestry always a little unsettling.<\/p>\n
\u201cCatherine, how are you this evening?\u201d Carson asked, without bothering to look above him. He knew she was there. <\/p>\n
The plaque beneath it read \u2018Foster and Melnyx battle below Catherine.\u2019 It showed a warrior climbing across a jumble of uneven rocks, with rats at his heels, rising to fight the slithering creature crawling ahead of him. Above them was the beautiful Catherine, a princess, gazing across the vast rolling hills of her kingdom, oblivious to what was happening below her. When the early morning sun moved through the room and Catherine\u2019s face caught the light, he thought she resembled his beautiful late wife Doreen.<\/p>\n
At night, however, he didn\u2019t like to look, because the faces sometimes became twisted with shadow and the eyes seemed to linger on him a bit longer than he liked.<\/p>\n
Twenty minutes later, he walked into the guard booth, putting his flashlight on the desk and sitting down.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, no mouse?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cWeird.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carson shrugged, hands on the armrests of his chair. He needed a nap.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope we don\u2019t need to have the system recalibrated. I filled out the incident report already and logged it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Opening his thermos, Carson poured a cup of tea and sipped it.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarson, you okay if I go make that coffee run?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nodding, he said, \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carson rubbed his temples and closed his eyes as he heard Derrick leave the guard booth. Carson suspected that it wasn\u2019t just coffee Derrick was going to go get, but he kept those thoughts to himself. He caught bits of quiet conversation while Derrick was on the phone in the booth and he sometimes caught a whiff of cheap smelling perfume. It wasn\u2019t any of his business and honestly he didn\u2019t care. There was a time when he was just as careless and selfish as Derrick was.<\/p>\n
A beep sounded from the console in front of him and he opened his eyes. Another sensor tripped. It was from the main gallery room. He flipped a couple of switches and a picture jumped on the screen in front of him. Adjusting his glasses across the bridge of his nose, Carson tried to figure out what could\u2019ve tripped the sensor. The picture was so grainy, he could hardly tell the difference between the bust sculpture and the floor, but he did think something was moving across the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the hell,\u201d he said aloud and almost scared himself with the sound of his own voice. <\/p>\n
He adjusted the contrast a bit, flashing back to a time when he had done the same thing on an ancient black and white Zenith so he could watch the ballgame when he was a kid.<\/p>\n
The floor became clearer on the monitor and it was obvious that things were moving on the floor. Frowning, he messed with the knobs again and realized Derrick was right. They did have a mouse, or more correctly, mice, dozens of them moving across the floor.<\/p>\n
He looked around to see if Derrick was coming back yet, but he was nowhere in sight. Carson stood up a little too fast, his vision graying out a bit, making him stumble into the edge of the console, the usual wave of dizziness taking him by surprise.<\/p>\n
\u201cDammit!\u201d Carson yelled, more at himself than anything else.<\/p>\n
He grabbed the flashlight and wandered out of the office, heading toward the main gallery. Shining the beam into the gallery, he didn\u2019t see anything moving across the floor. He blinked, wondering if he\u2019d somehow scared them away. Maybe they\u2019d heard him approaching.<\/p>\n
But, there were so many. Where\u2019d they go?<\/p>\n
He opened the panel just outside the gallery\u2019s entrance and flipped on the lights, the large room exploding with light. He blinked against it, squinting, looking for the mice, but he didn\u2019t see any.<\/p>\n
He stepped into the room and, after making sure there were no mice, Carson looked up at the tapestry and his breath caught in his throat. Catherine was looking at him now instead of out across her kingdom. She looked even more like Doreen from this angle. His heart felt like it was being squeezed, the sensations moving through him so strange.<\/p>\n
Carson thought Foster looked as if he were closer to the beast, his sword now raised above his head ready to strike instead of at his side. What held his attention though was below Foster, scurrying over the rocks. It was the wave of rats. They didn\u2019t seem to be racing toward Foster, but instead, away from him toward the bottom of the tapestry.<\/p>\n
He immediately thought about Aunt Meg and wondered if the walls of his brain had finally softened enough that they were collapsing, folding ever inward. Carson looked at his hands and flexed his fingers, waiting for them to turn into a flipper or something equally strange.<\/p>\n
The sharp yelp of static from his radio made his heart skip.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarson what are you doing down there?\u201d<\/p>\n
Taking a deep breath, trying to get himself together, he took his walkie-talkie out.<\/p>\n
\u201cThought I saw something on the monitor and came down to check it out. There\u2019s nothing here though.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSensor trip again?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t answer, hand on his hip, walkie held loosely in his hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be down in a sec.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wonderful.<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t bother to answer, slipping the walkie-talkie into the holster and sat down on one of the artsy-fartsy looking benches that were far too small to hold up more than one person\u2019s butt at a time. Carson could still feel Catherine\u2019s eyes on him. He didn\u2019t dare look up at her.<\/p>\n
Derrick came into the main gallery.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re okay, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at him like he was crazy.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry,\u201d Derrick said, catching Carson\u2019s frown.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m fine. I saw something on the monitor and came down to check, like I already told you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, don\u2019t get worked up about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t say you were.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou all but asked me what I thought I saw, not what I saw. There\u2019s a world of difference between those two things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, tell me what the monitor showed.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carson looked up at the rats in the tapestry.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you see anything wrong with the tapestry?\u201d He pointed to Foster and Catherine.<\/p>\n
\u201cOther than Catherine needs a little less clothes?\u201d<\/p>\n
Derrick\u2019s smile disappeared in the wake of Carson\u2019s glare.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarson, come on, man I\u2019m trying to lighten the mood here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, you don\u2019t see anything different?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent how?\u201d<\/p>\n
He knew there was no coming back from what he was about to say. Derrick would either think he was nuts or drunk, but he didn\u2019t have a choice.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnything different about the way they\u2019re posed or what\u2019s in the tapestry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent? I don\u2019t know what you\u2019re getting at.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you see the rats toward the bottom edge, beneath Foster\u2019s feet?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Catherine is looking at us?\u201d Carson asked, without bothering to look up at the tapestry.<\/p>\n
\u201cRight, she is.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe rats weren\u2019t there, they were running toward Foster\u2019s legs, and she used to look out over her kingdom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKingdom?\u201d Derrick asked, laughing uneasily.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you remember that or not?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you talking about? Of course not. I never look at the crap hanging on the walls. All this dumb art crap is boring.\u201d<\/p>\n
That figured.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you should come back to the office and sit down awhile.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I\u2019m older than dirt and might crumble to pieces?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, I just think maybe you should let me take the next couple of rounds, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
In all the time he\u2019d worked there, Derrick had never offered to do that.<\/p>\n
Must have him spooked.<\/p>\n
The shadows seemed to be whispering to him, but he didn\u2019t want to listen. They would only make things worse. Once inside the guard booth, Carson sat down heavily in his chair. He ran a hand across the crown of his head a few times before putting the flashlight down on the console.
\nMaybe there was a reason nobody hired people his age.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you think it\u2019s a sensor acting up? We haven\u2019t had any go bad in a while,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
Carson didn\u2019t want to tell him what he really thought was going on.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you see on the monitor?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere were things moving on the floor.\u201d<\/p>\n
Derrick put his feet on the floor and went to the monitor, cueing up the main gallery feed.
\n\u201cLike this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Looking at the Monitor, he could feel Derrick watching him intently. The grainy picture did look like things were moving across the floor, but it wasn\u2019t as defined as it had been earlier.<\/p>\n
\u201cSort of. I know the monitor\u2019s a piece of crap, but I saw things moving around. It was clearer than that picture.\u201d<\/p>\n
Derrick looked between Carson and the monitor. He didn\u2019t say anything and didn\u2019t have to. Carson knew the score.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to make my rounds. I have fresh coffee over there in the bag if you want any.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
Derrick left the booth a few moments later, leaving Carson alone with his thoughts. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the monitor, but eventually he had to. The tapestry was wavering back and forth and as he watched, he could see the rats dropping from it to the ground in a steady drip and then scurry across the floor.<\/p>\n
He picked up the walkie-talkie and then thought better of it. Standing up, he waited for the dizziness to pass and then walked back to the main gallery.<\/p>\n
Throat dry, and heart skipping a little too quickly inside his chest, he came to the entry archway for the gallery. He stopped before going inside, Foster no longer driving his sword into the creature, instead lying dead on the rocks with what looked to be dozens of bite marks across his exposed skin.<\/p>\n
\u201cCatherine, what is going on?\u201d<\/p>\n
He forced himself to look at her and it was Doreen, he was sure of it. It was no longer just her likeness, but really her in the regal gown standing on the balcony. She pointed to the other side of the room, her mouth open to try and warn him.<\/p>\n
When he looked, the rats swarmed toward him. He stumbled and bumped into the bench, losing his balance for a moment. They still closed on him, ravenous. Carson reached for one of the display cases, but missed and fell hard to the floor under the tapestry.<\/p>\n
The rats swarmed over his body and began nipping. He tried desperately to fight them off, hitting a few with his flashlight, calling out for Derrick, but it was no use. They gnawed away at his skin and began to burrow deeper.<\/p>\n
Closing his eyes, his struggles growing weaker, he suddenly wished for nothing but to be in Doreen\u2019s arms again, feeling her next to him. He longed for her whisper, for her warm breath against his bare neck, to smell her after soaking in the tub. The fur rubbing against his skin, and the gnashing of teeth were far away, as he felt her silken nightgown in his hands, body pressing against him, he smiled, comforted, that sweet scent carrying him.<\/p>\n
Derrick was shaken. He\u2019d never seen anything like it. He couldn\u2019t explain it, the police asking the same questions over and over again. He kept looking behind him, his eyes wide, fear boiling away inside.<\/p>\n
Sitting on the ridiculously small patron bench, he looked at Carson lying on his side, dozens of tiny tears in his uniform, bite marks across his body. That was chilling, but what disturbed him even more was the tapestry.<\/p>\n
It was different.<\/p>\n
Foster was dead, his body chewed up just like Carson\u2019s was, the rats having made quick work of him, their swarm long gone. That was frightening enough, but what he couldn\u2019t wrap his head around was the fact that Catherine wasn\u2019t in the tapestry anymore, she was on the floor beside Carson. She was a silken cut-out. Her arms reached for him, touching him, as if in a comforting hug, the fabric arms wrapped around the small of his back. Her lips were against his forehead.<\/p>\n
He couldn\u2019t explain any of it. Derrick couldn\u2019t figure out why she wasn\u2019t a blonde anymore either. She had fiery red hair, cascading over her shoulders. How was that possible? How could any of this have happened? Was he losing it like Carson?<\/p>\n
He shivered at that thought.<\/p>\n
All of it swirled around in his mind, but the nagging question, the one that kept needling the edges of his heart was, where were the rats?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It was a shit gig and Carson knew it, but it couldn\u2019t be helped. It seemed that no one was interested in hiring someone in their eighties nowadays. Never mind that he still had all of his faculties and was fit as a fiddle. Granted, maybe it was a fiddle with just three strings, but …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13564,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-107479","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/107479","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/13564"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=107479"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/107479\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139469,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/107479\/revisions\/139469"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=107479"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=107479"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=107479"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}