Creative Column

By Taryn Kryza

Welcome back to the Column!

        As you’ve probably already guessed, this is a newer section the Announcer staff has come up with, a place where readers can come to enjoy a short story based around any interesting thing that comes to my mind. I time myself for thirty minutes, usually writing on an object I find somewhere around my house, and do my best to stay around 500 words (though more often than not I’ll end up going over).

        So, please enjoy this next piece for the column: Listen.

***

     The strange little shop appeared on the corner, seemingly overnight, even though its dark teal paint was worn and chipped like it had stood there for ages. Its name (Miss Kai’s) gave no clue to what was in it, and there was only ever one sign hanging in the window of a mahogany door.

     We’re open.

     The sign swung as I pushed open the door. It groaned quietly amidst the toll of the old bell attached to its frame and closed behind me.

     The shop was larger than it looked and dimly lit; I almost did an absurdly graceful faceplant walking in. Looking around at wood paneled walls, I noticed several adjoining rooms and tables strewn with strange objects: A crude statue toting an armful of coral. A silver mirror encrusted with barnacles. Combs twinkling seductively from a woven basket, adorned with jewels.

Just what had I walked into?

I brushed back the net that served as a curtain to separate the rooms, moving deeper into the shop. With every step, the air grew warmer, wetter, clinging to my skin and my hair. I reached out to touch a tank filled with colorful fish, mesmerized by their swimming when I heard a faint sound, like a song as it fades away. I looked around, swearing I had been alone in the place. A small table caught my eye and, heart giving an uneasy beat, I wandered over to it.

     Cradled in a nest of dried starfish and gold pearls was a seashell, ivory striped with sand-brown and lined with shy pink. The ridges tickled my finger as I stroked it. A low thrum pulsed through me, notes ringing in my ears. I swallowed, nervously checking over my shoulder to make sure the door was in its proper place.

     Instead, I came gaze to gaze with a woman… and was caught. Hopelessly. Helplessly, was probably the better word. Her eyes were deep and dark and timeless, and she watched me like a shark with a look so blue it was black.

     “Can I help you?” Her voice was hypnotic, like she was crooning a melody.

     “I… I-I mean…” I fumbled my words helplessly before looking away. The spell, for a moment, was broken. “Are you Miss Kai?” I asked instead.

     “I am,” the woman answered evenly, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

     “Uh… you have a lovely shop,” I squeezed out. Conversations had never been my strong suit.

     “Thank you,” she murmured, moving smoothly around the table. Her the hem of her pale green dress swished around her bare feet, whitish-blonde hair hair cascading down her back. She cradled the forgotten seashell in her palms. More echoing in my ears. “Do you want to buy this?”

     “Huh?” I echoed, following her to the counter. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, I do.”

I didn’t. I didn’t know what it was and it made me feel… weird.

But I had to.

     She said nothing, but something was playing around her mouth. I couldn’t tell if it was a smile or a frown, but she rung up the purchase and took the money I offered anyway.

     She pressed the shell into my hands instead of into a bag and closed my fingers around it. It hummed like before, but the sensation against my skin was so strange that I wanted to drop it. The hard press of her palms was the only thing stopping me.

     “They say whoever listens can hear them,” she told me cryptically.

“Pardon?” I tried. The door was suddenly opening and I was walking out and when had the door come back? The cool breeze, however, cleared my thoughts, and I whirled around to her before she could vanish.

     “Wait!” I called, seeing the heel of her foot disappear inside. The door shut and the sign flipped to Closed. I banged on the door in frustration, still trying to figure out why I had gotten the shell in the first place. It was creepy, Miss Kai was creepy, the whole store was creepy. “Who’s ‘they?’ And ‘them?’ What do they say?”

     A cool laugh rang out. I froze.

     “We do.”