Caraliza (35 page)

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Authors: Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick

BOOK: Caraliza
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“
We are going to do this one more time, Love, only with the Bryant,” Evan said to her, and he kissed her and let her bite his lip. “Would you like another hour in the closet?”
“
May I have Yousep in there? You’ve had your girls.”
“
I have no idea it was not him, and neither do you.”
“
Evan, you are a slut. A very nasty slut.”

 

Evan was wrong, Shelly had her wish granted, and his jealousy was only more flame to her fire. They were quite exhausted when they sat on the divan and the afternoon sun was waning in the window. Shelly was still flushed from the closet sensations. They had two plates. She had been exposed and then she surprised Evan by asking him to take her place. They sat and looked at the two results. Shelly took her turn at jealousy, and Evan was surprised how quickly it surfaced.
Caraliza again played with Shelly’s hair, and quieted her lips. He thought it meant she talked to them too much, and he was bitten for the comment. But Caraliza was not shy in the image with Evan. She was naked and lustful against him, reaching to kiss his cheek.
“
This is absurd,” Shelly said as she turned the image onto its face. “She is playing a silly game with us. This doesn’t tell us a thing we need to know. This only shows she thinks you’re hot. You have two girlfriends, and one of them is a naked ghost, running around looking for a stud.”
“
She is ninety years old, Shelly, and she is dead,” he teased. They laughed because it was so horridly funny. “And, Love, she has told us everything we need to know. The Reisman is never to be used again, and they do not haunt us at all. They enjoy our presence here, nearly as much as they frighten us.”
“
Why does Yousep not appear here?” Shelly asked as she fingered the plates on the table in front of them. “Why is it only Caraliza?”
“
Because he’s decided it wasn’t necessary, I guess. Perhaps she was more offended at the use of the Waterbury than he ever was.”
“
But did she haunt the camera, or Papa?” Shelly wanted to know; they still did not know why she would torment the dying old man every time he tried to work.
“
Evan, we still need to repeat this with the cameras, at your place tonight. We don’t know if it is the building or not,” Shelly said. He had to admit she was right.

 

They only knew how Caraliza felt while the cameras were being used in the studio. They packed the two cameras, and some extra plates out to Evan’s car, and left for the evening, and dinner. Any new photographs would need to be taken in the morning; it was much too dark now to try. But Shelly wondered, what would appear in an image exposed in the shop for even an hour? She remembered Evan wanted to take a photograph of the sepia glow in the storefront. After dinner, she asked him to return to the Reisman Portraits, they could arrange a palette for fun, while the Bryant Waterbury looked into the darkness to see what might move there at night. Evan was interested in trying, mostly because he enjoyed the thought of more play with his Shelly.

 

It took more than an hour; they were very slow about their needs, without any help from the others. And Evan’s camera looked into the darkness, its eye nearly closed to a very tiny hole. It would look for as long as they stayed on the floor in the canvas and coverings. If the camera saw something to fear in the darkness, it made no sound, no cry, no warning. It simply looked and could not turn away. Whatever was there that wanted to be seen, it could not be prevented. The lovers on the floor were not being watched by the Waterbury, but they were being watched, from the stair. It wanted to laugh at them, but did not. It was waiting.
Morning sunshine filled Evan’s bedroom, bounced from the buildings across the street, and there was singing in the bath. Shelly was already up, and Evan found more wonderful coffee at his nightstand. There were no cheese Danish on the pillow, and he was very glad. But the shower sounded inviting and he chose to climb in with her. She was not surprised, and welcomed him unexpectedly. He really needed to discuss the principles of modesty with her; he could not understand her free attitude with him in the toilet. She only bit him several times and turned to let him soap her back, and she played with her hands behind her.

 

“
Shelly, did I scratch you last night? I don’t do that, do I?”
There were more scratches on her back than he could count. But none broke her skin and yet they looked to be painful. The hot water they both loved made the scratches appear raw and very sore. She hadn’t noticed them, and as he traced some of the longest with his fingers, she said there was the sensation of a burn under his fingertip, as it moved down her back.
He had seen her naked back in the shop, as they prepared to leave; he saw it again as they fell into the bed, playful, yet too tired to really do anything about it. Evan tickled her back for a while before they fell asleep. She was scratched now, and had not known it was done. It could have been done any time during the night. He was very uncomfortable about it; it alarmed him such a thing would happen while she slept.

 

They enjoyed a breakfast out, and then stopped at a park on the way to the shop, to take their images. They would repeat all the poses from the day before, to see where Caraliza would choose to appear, if at all. Six images were taken and they headed to the building to make the developments. Shelly was immediately cross; she remembered an appointment to have workmen in the shop all day. She would not be able to roam without clothing, as she loved to do, or be able to joint Evan in the closet. He suddenly surprised her with unexpected anger.
“
Hell, I need to get gas in this stupid thing!” he complained and pulled away from their route to find a station. “I shouldn’t have to do this now.” And they both found something to be cross about the rest of their trip to the Reisman Portraits. Workmen were already inside when they arrived.

 

 

As the darkroom closet door closed behind Evan, he sensed the strange atmosphere inside. It felt empty and abandoned for the first time, and there was the smallest hint of sadness in the feelings it gave him. It was not warm, it smelled dusty and not of the candle from the day before. He almost turned to invite Shelly to join him, but she was already arguing the color of wood stains with one of the painters. He pulled the door shut and lit the candle to begin his work. He would be longer than an hour with so many plates to develop. The candle no sooner lit the space than he heard a voice in his ear, a whisper, which was familiar as the touch of Shelly’s lips against his back.
“
Waarom was zij hier?” Why was she here?
“
We were here for plates, to see you in the plates”
“
Ze wil niet dat we hier zijn” she did not want us in.
“
We both wanted you in, we felt you!” Evan was confused.
“
Ze wil ons niet” she did not want us.
He felt small, cool hands on his back, and a cheek against his shirt, but they were not soothing. She sang a very sad song and it scared Evan until the hairs rose on his skin. She sang until it seemed her heart would break from the sorrow in the words.
“
What does it mean?” he whispered.
“
Weggaan.” Leaving.

 

Evan forced himself to turn, she did not prevent him, her hands slid around him as he faced her, and she pulled him with a faint embrace. There was no warmth; she was less strong than the last time his cheek found her hair. Evan bent to her ear and whispered again. “Who is leaving, Caraliza?”
“
Onze prachtige liefde.” Our beautiful love.
“
Caraliza, are you leaving?” he said against her cheek, his lips brushing a dream, nearly touching it.
“
Weggaan met spijt.” Leave in sorrow.
“
May I kiss you, Caraliza?” his desperation could not be hidden. Evan was heartbroken. This was not what they were seeking. They did not want to lose Caraliza or Yousep; they only wanted to help them find peace.
“
Ja.”
Evan brushed his lips against the dream, and she held his mouth with hers. She warmed and tasted of honey, and was gone.

 

Six plates from the park in the morning sun; in only one, could a hint of Caraliza’s spirit be seen. She was a sunbeam in the Reisman image, reaching to Shelly, but not touching, she was barely there yet they both knew it was her. All the images free of anything but this one, and the simple gesture, and it was so faint, as to be missed by someone who had not felt the touch in the closet. The Waterbury was free to be used. Shelly could tell Evan was deeply saddened by something. They were in the studio, the plates stacked among Shelly’s other papers. Each one they turned seemed to disappoint Evan greater than the last.
“
I kissed her,” he said, with more sorrow than the words should have brought with his breath. “I think she said goodbye.”

 

Shelly did not hesitate to ask him what he meant; she bolted the room and ran to the closet. Evan tried to follow, but she was panicked. He found her shivering inside, her hands to her mouth. They pulled the door behind, and closed their eyes in the darkness, and held their breath, barely touching one another. Shelly’s breath escaped in a sob and she turned to take Evan into her arms to weep, the sorrow of Caraliza’s song still fresh and painful in his heart, and Shelly increased the hurt that was there.
“
They aren’t here!” She cried. “They aren’t here. I can’t feel them. I can’t remember their touch.”
Evan held her until she could not cry any more. Something, which drew her to the place her entire life, was once found in the closet, and now, in his arms, Shelly Reisman was alone with only him.
“
Ik wilde vaarwel zeggen!” I wanted to say farewell

 

Evan’s heart told him what Shelly said, just as it seemed to tell him the meaning of Caraliza’s whispers. He hoped with all his strength, they had not broken each other’s hearts; his two angels suffered enough for any more of that.
They forgot the plate made while they loved one another the night before, under the glow of the window. It still waited for them on the table at the divan. Evan took his Shelly there, and they sat quietly for a while. She held him as though he were about to go, and be forever gone from her. She clung to him to keep him near. The plate waited to be seen; Evan wanted to see it. In this image, the storefront was deeply toned, and filled with the softest light. And on the stair, something stood, and at its feet sat Shelly, naked against him and dirty, her hair pulled up into his dangled fingers.

 

Evan called Sareta to come take Shelly home; she was too distraught to stay. The image ruined her heart and she screamed it was not true. The workmen from the kitchen were standing in the doorway of the studio, as she raged against Evan, desperate to destroy the plate. He would not let her, it would have done no good, and it might have made it worse. Papa went mad trying to make the plates untrue by breaking them. Shelly was nearly mad at what was revealed.
The building held her, and she could not get free until the brute was gone. He tortured Caraliza and stole her life; this torment would take Shelly’s soul. Evan was not struggling to free the building from spirits now; he was desperate to save his Shelly. She could not be hidden from this, the scratches on her back showed Evan that, horribly, the brute followed her home.
A whisper, a thought, the sound of an eyelash caressing the air spoke to Evan, and he understood what was said to him, in the closet. She had been there. She did not want them in. He did need gas in his car, because it had been driven. Shelly came back while he slept, so deeply he could not have awakened to prevent her. She came back, and spent hours in the closet, but not with Yousep, not with Caraliza. Yousep was never in the images, never in the camera’s eye. Yousep did not haunt the building, he came when Caraliza brought him, only then. Shelly laughed in Evan’s arms, she calmed, and he did not feel her anger fade. Shelly did not feel Yousep’s touch last night. Caraliza remained all those years, to comfort whomever the building haunted, and she loved Shelly. The delicate fingers to Shelly’s lips in the images…say nothing - do not choose. But Shelly made a choice, and Caraliza was now gone.

 

When Shelly was taken out, Evan remained. It was time to take the hidden items out of the crawl space under the great window. He felt nothing under there but his own fear, when he last lay in that dust. He knew the false wall was lying still on its face to one side, and the other plates, and stacks of papers, were sitting in easy reach. He only needed a few boxes.
The kitchen was filled with the workmen installing the equipment, and the painters were constantly in and out of the building. None of them seemed to have experienced anything out of the ordinary, except their employer beating her fists and throwing spittle from her lips against Evan’s chest. That was not a normal workday sight. They were spooked by nothing else the entire day. Evan felt safe in crawling under the display platform, but he told two of the men he was headed under there, and they should listen for perhaps a cry of help, he claimed the boxes might be too large and heavy to move when loaded. As he began his crawl into the space with his light, he was relieved to notice, they were actually watching him. Human faces and human eyes were comforting, but they would not be able to see him in a few brief seconds.

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