It was a Saturday like any other: Phoebe’s day off, chores done, restless to get out of the house. She decided to go out and browse her favorite antique shop, which nestled in a row of many such shops on Spring Street.
The shop’s dim interior belied the bright sunshine outside, and her eyes took a few moments to adjust. The owner acknowledged her with a nod and let her be. He knew by now that she was a looker, not a buyer, so declined to waste a good sales pitch on her. That suited Phoebe just fine.
She wandered idly past the kitschy old lamps, Fiesta ware, and orphaned china teacups. She only glanced at the glass case of aged jewelry, knowing there were no treasures there. The really interesting items were in the back of the store, where it seemed no one ever went.
She enjoyed looking at the collection of masks. Some were Kabuki, some African, and there were a few she couldn’t identify, made of some leathery material which peeled and cracked with age. She pretended they were made of human skin, provided by some unlucky sacrifice to nameless, forgotten gods. She felt gooseflesh rise on her arms and giggled at herself.
That’s when it caught her eye, sitting on a shelf beneath the wall of masks. She’d never seen this piece before, and she leaned in to study it.
It was a stone idol, a long-legged female figure. Her arms were upraised and carved snakes coiled around them, their heads resting in her hands. Her face consisted of two huge eyes that seemed to stare intently at Phoebe. She couldn’t resist picking it up.
It was quite heavy, though it was only the length of Phoebe’s hand. It felt warm against her palm, and she wondered what kind of stone it was, where it came from, how old it was. It must be ancient. How had such a piece ended up here in this dusty shop, when it surely had archaeological significance?
The idol went on staring at Phoebe, and she briefly entertained the notion it was alive somehow. As soon as she thought that, a scent of wildflowers drifted around her, making her a little dizzy. She heard drums beating far away. An image of bonfires in a starry night filled her head, and she heard a young woman’s voice say, “The spring equinox is coming. All is ready. Fulfill your oath.”
Phoebe shook her head to clear it, steadying herself against the shelf.
“What was that?” she whispered to the idol still lying in her hand, staring up at her. “I think you gave me a little daydream there, old girl.”
She gazed around the shabby store. The owner stood behind the counter, watching her. He gave her an expectant smile. She looked up at the strange leathery masks again, and they seemed to shift in the dim light. The idol lay hot and heavy in her hand as if it belonged there.
Phoebe went to the counter and set the idol down.
“I’ll take it,” she said. The owner kept smiling.
“You truly buy today? Pleasant surprise.” His voice carried a thick accent which she couldn’t place. There was no trace of surprise in it.
“You sure this is piece you want?” he continued. “Maybe nice silver tea service is better for young lady. This is old, only gather dust. Too much clutter, too much trouble.”
“No, thanks,” Phoebe said. “This is the one I want. I’ll take good care of her.”
He rang up her purchase and wrapped the idol tenderly.
“Be sure to take good care,” he said. “If don’t work out, you can bring back, no problem.”
He handed the package to her. She turned to go, then stopped.
“Hey, by the way, do you know what the date is today?”
“Is March 19,” he said softly. “Spring equinox tomorrow.”
“Is that so?” A shudder snaked up Phoebe’s spine.
“Yes, is so. In my country, in old days, was big festival. My ancestors, they sacrifice to the gods at equinox to make crops grow. Your little god there, she is mistress of sacrifice. Authentic piece, very old. Young lady respect her, yes? Take good care.”
“Yes, I promise to take good care of her,” Phoebe said, smiling. “My word is my oath.”
“Then she take care of you, too. Have fine day, miss. Will see you again soon.”
Phoebe nodded and walked out into the sunny day, giddy that she’d found such a treasure for such a great bargain. And the fairy tale that went with the idol made it that much better. It didn’t matter whether it was a real legend or the owner had invented it. It would be a great conversation piece when she had friends over. And maybe someday she’d have a museum look at it. It might be a real treasure, after all.
You never knew.
* * *
He never opened the shop on the spring equinox or the day following, as he faithfully observed the ancient holy festival. It was Tuesday when he returned to work.
When he opened the shop’s front door, a strong scent of wildflowers engulfed him. He grinned and went to the wall of masks.
There, on the shelf beneath the masks, sat the sacred idol, his beloved goddess, the Lady. Her arms and the snakes winding around them bore new rusty stains, and her eyes gleamed as she gazed at him. He fell to his knees before her.
“Thank you, Great Lady,” he prayed. “You accept my offering, you return home. You have blessed. Thank you.”
A new mask hung on the wall above the idol. Its pale leather was smooth and supple, its features delicate. It was the finest one yet.
He rose and went to open the shop for business, confident that this would be a most profitable year.
L'Aussie
December 9, 2010
What a wily old man. A most profitable year for sure til karma catches him! A great story. Lots of mystery and some left to ponder.:)
Joanie
December 9, 2010
Amazing! Great details in all the senses. I loved the ending the best. Really well told – as a window-shopper this gave me serious goosebumps!
Icy Sedgwick
December 9, 2010
Oh what a horrid piece of work that shopkeeper is! Poor Phoebe. I could smell those wildflowers, and now I’m freaked out.
Josie
December 9, 2010
Oh. my. god. Very subtle … beautifully chilling.
adamkeeper
December 9, 2010
Great stuff, the store was very textured and the kind of place I’d love to hang around in. Great twilight zone style twist. There was a story called doomcollecter in a eagle comic that I read as a kid that had a similar thing going on, always sent a shiver up and down my spine. All hail the spring godess!
Anthony Venutolo
December 9, 2010
Man… Goosebumps, indeed…
Gracie, you do this so well.
John Wiswell
December 10, 2010
I wonder if there are conventions for evil shopkeepers. This guy, Leland Gaunt, curse-wielding gypsies, all get together. There are booths, lectures on soul-to-dollar exchange rates and the finer points of haunted sculpture. I like to think so.
I would also like these people in a database somewhere. 0 stars, would not buy again – would read again, though, Gracie!
Sam Adamson
December 10, 2010
I love the shopkeeper, what a great character…he did give Phoebe the chance not to buy the idol after all. I had a feeling this wouldn’t end well for her and was willing Phoebe to take the silver tea service even though I knew she woudln’t.
techtigger
December 10, 2010
oooh, creepy! puts a whole new spin on ‘buyer beware’ *lol* though I suppose ancient idols do not have fine print warning labels on them. 🙂
Anneke
December 10, 2010
Wow, wonderful atmosphere, wonderful story. I love the end. It’s certainly one way to make good profit.
ganymeder
December 10, 2010
I think this is my favorite story by you so far! So much craftiness, it’s so evil and yet you have to admire his ingenuity… Wonderfully told story.
Jim Bronyaur
December 10, 2010
I love this story… a personal favorite of mine of yours. This is the second kind of story I read today like this… I’m digging these cultural but yet scary stories… just goes along with my theory that there is enough horror in real life that we don’t need to make so much up I guess, right? 🙂
Great flash!
Jim Bronyaur
http://www.jimbronyaur.com
http://tinyurl.com/jimbronyaur-thegate <– my #fridayflash this week!
Eric J. Krause
December 10, 2010
Good story! I hope I never wander into that shop.
KjM
December 10, 2010
Oh my. Once I read “My word is my oath” I knew things were not going to go well for Phoebe. But the mask at the end, unexpected and quite perfect.
Really well done.
Danielle La Paglia
December 10, 2010
That was fantastic! I got chills at the end. Very nicely done, Ms. Motley. 🙂
juliorvarela
December 10, 2010
I love the twist and the clues you give the reader. Also, kudos for the description of the items at the beginning. A pleasure to read.
Steve Green
December 10, 2010
Very much creepy tales of the unexpected, the shopkeeper reminded me of the one in “Needful things” Always an ulterior motive. Poor unsuspecting Phoebe.
mmarier
December 10, 2010
GAHHHH!! Truly a scream-worthy ending! Did it get colder in here? Very nice how you threw us some red-herrings and then came back to stuff we overlooked. Well crafted, ma’am thanks. (Now I need to crank up the heat *brrrr*)
Deanna Schrayer
December 11, 2010
What I like most about this is that you put so many little hints throughout that I should’ve had that ending figured out before I got there, but…I didn’t. THAT is what makes a story an astounding story. This is definitely a favorite Gracie!
Carrie Clevenger
December 11, 2010
HA. This is the best MASK short I’ve seen.
Virginia Moffatt
December 11, 2010
Chilling. Great twist at the end.
adampb
December 11, 2010
The hint about the fragrance of the flowers made it all that little bit creepier. Chills and supernatural creepiness.
Adam B @revhappiness
laradunning
December 11, 2010
Wildflowers, spring, and death. Very deceptive and chilling. I thought maybe the idol was going to make Phoebe kill someone, but it was really Phoebe she wanted to sacrifice. The connection to the masks added an extra element to the story. One that makes you want to go back and read that part again to take in what it really is. Creepy!
Aidan Fritz
December 12, 2010
I connected with Phoebe initially; but her comments as she left made her feel more self-centered and I was accepting of her refusal to listen/understand the statue’s words and the hesitancy of the sales man (although he was very subtle) about letting her take the statue. Well told.
Jen Brubacher
December 13, 2010
Oooh. I got chills. And I think you did well to slowly disconnect us from Phoebe as she considers the old traditions without much respect, though I still feel sorry for her. It reminds me of all the knick knacks I bought in odd places, and left to gather dust. Yikes.
Blackbirdsong
December 13, 2010
I love the atmosphere of this story Grace. Incredibly creepy and beautifully told. Poor Phoebe, best not to dabble in things you don’t understand.