THE WALKING TOUR

My 1st attempt at a short story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Walking Tour

       The young couple, having recently moved to the quaint old river village, were happy to spend their free time exploring their new town’s cultural landscape. The antique shops; art galleries; plays and concert series were the finest to be found outside the city. This weekend they decided to do a self-guided walking tour of the grand homes along the river sponsored by the local Historical Society.

       They spent a blustery, but pleasant, late Fall afternoon slowly making their way up North Broadway visiting houses built by ship’s captains and wealthy merchants. At each stop they were treated to coffee, tea and light refreshments covered by their $25 donation to The Historical Society, along with tours and histories of the premises by their proud owners.

       After the last stop the happy couple, while standing on an uneven cobblstone corner, bracing themselves for the long walk back to their own home in a somewhat less fashionable part of town, happened to glance across the street to a high stone wall on which hung a sign saying “ House Tour “ with an arrow pointing to the wall’s entrance. Funny, this house didn’t seem to be on the itinerary. Perhaps an oversight by The Historical Society. Tired, though somewhat still invigorated by the day’s adventures, they were intrigued and decided to make one last call.

     Inside the impressive, if somewhat gaudy, wrought iron gate stood a structure that nearly caused them to gasp. The massive four story mansion, comprised of a most amazing hodge-podge of architectural styles, almost made their heads spin. The first story was a massive ivy-clad Romanesque monstrosity with it’s heavy arches set in purplish puddingstone walls. The second; a blend of Italianate and Neo Grec. The third; a mix of Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque revival. The fourth; Second Empire with, bizarrely enough, elements of Egyptian thrown in. It’s as if, over the years, the successive additions meant to reflect the course of history and then , at the last moment, turns back upon itself at the end to an earlier time like some kind of weird Mobius Strip.

     Walking down a long vine-encased pergola, lined by giant oaks and elms, the couple felt a distinct unease as they approached the entranceway. At the doorway they were met by a very handsome wheelchair-bound young man. Extremely pale, he seemed to lack an element of physicality, as if he weren’t completely there. He explained that, due to his condition, he wouldn’t be able to accompany them on the tour and handed them a crudely drawn floor plan they could follow if they wished to take a tour of the house. Though tired and uncomfortable, they agreed so as to not offend the invalid. The young man then offered some cucumber and watercress sandwiches and produced a bottle of a greenish liquor that looked suspiciously like absinthe. He stated that, while The Historical Society frowns upon alchoholic beverages served at it’s events, he might be forgiven as it is an old family recipe and quite harmless. The young man in the wheelchair then smiled as they drank the libation and began the house tour.

      The interior of the first floor stood in stark contrast to the house’s exterior. The furnishings and decorations were modern, dating back to perhaps the 1980’s. Each successive level’s décor reflected a progressively earlier time period from the modern of the first floor to the medieval of the fourth. This reverse chronology was in direct opposition to the linear time-line of the exterior…. Once again giving one the impression the house seemed to turn in upon both itself and time. In addition, as one rose higher in the house, the acoutrements of the rooms became increasingly more eccentric giving the impression of a personal collection that was the culmination of a world wide scavenger hunt for the outré. Case upon case of fossils and rare minerals interspersed with African masks; Tiki totems; exotic taxidermy; antique weaponry and scientific apparatus; out dated globes; sextants; astrolabes and bookcases of the arcane that could have been looted from both the libraries of Alexandria and Miskatonic University amounted to a miniature natural history museum that would have made a Charles Addams or Edward Gorey envious.

       At each accession of winding staircases the couple’s lethargy increased. They laughed, a little nervously perhaps, at the speculation that the young man’s family recipe might contain something more than alcohol as an active ingredient. Finally, after completing their exploration of the fourth level they came to a door with a sign saying, “Slideshow”. They figured it was a good idea to sit down for awhile as it could revive them for the long walk home and sitting through a slideshow might just do the trick. Inside the door they found a mini version of the grand old movie palaces of yesteryear with Baroque and Rococo touches, dimly lit with wall sconces and containing several rows of plush velvet seats. Nearly stumbling down a couple of small steps they flopped down in the dusty, yet inviting seats somewhere around the middle of the theatre. On the stage heavy curtains rolled silently back to reveal an aged and cracked screen.

       Soon the slideshow began. In the first slide an old woman sat on the porch of the mansion in a large white wicker chair. Perhaps the grandmother of the young man downstairs? The next several slides showed a normal looking family with mother, father and three children in the downstairs 1980’s style living room. Could the mother be an earlier version of the old woman in the 1^st slide? Oddly, the man noticed, there was no sound indicating the advancement mechanism of a projector nor, after turning his head, any beam coming from the back wall, but decided not to alarm his wife with this disturbing revelation. Then came a series of images that could only have been produced in the late 1960’s or early 1970’s. Pictures taken through out the house suggest that during this period the house was converted into some type of hippie commune with long haired, tie dyed wearing young people, either sitting or laying languidly about, smoking large brass water pipes and making mechanical looking sex in groups of two; three; four or more, or dancing frenetically in serpentine fashion to some psychedelic, bacchic beat. Once again, things inside the house seemed to be going in reverse chronological mode. And so, as the slideshow went on back through the decades and generations the young couple, rather than being revived by their little sit-down, felt their lethargy increased tenfold and their limbs becoming leaden and unable to rise from the seats, yet their heads remained upright and fixed on the screen. The next series of slides seemed to date back to the Victorian era. Grand garden parties in the back of the house were shown taking place on the veranda and the great lawn which gently sloped down to a dock and boathouse where the rich and famous of the day departed from ferries and pleasure boats. The final series, composed of 1880’s daguerreotypes, were in stark contrast to the festive atmosphere of the preceding one. A middle aged, wheelchair bound man with a stern, determined continence sits in what looks to be a make-shift laboratory. Due to the profusion of occult symbols on the walls one would guess that, whatever experiments were conducted there, were more alchemical than chemical in nature.

     The last shot in the slideshow depicts a young, beautiful couple standing to the side a newly built mansion. Their pale, yet beautiful faces set against the majesty of the mighty river in the background. Now…. our hapless couple sits paralyzed in their seats. Their flesh transforming from the marrow, inside out, into something other…… Something not their own. Their flesh; their minds… their essence. Expelled. Blown out and onto the street below like so many dry, late Autumn leaves.

      Hours later, a happy young couple awakes in a dark theatre. The pale young man turns to his beloved and says, “It’s been a very long time my dear”.

 

 

Reviews

[.Bunnie.]

Wow...that was crazy! Really great details. You totally captivate the reader from the get-go. I'm a little confused about who the couple was, and who they turned into? Or if I got it wrong--if they didn't turn into a completely different couple? And who was the young man in the wheelchair?

Anyhow, great job! :) The story grabs a hold of the reader and refuses to let go. I'd really like to see more put into this story--or...more made out of it? Like--longer! More! :D I'd love a background on the house, the young man in the wheel chair, who the ending couple is and why/how they came back. This would make an awesome book. :D

Glad you started writing again. Keep it up!! Don't ever let it go! You absolutely have a gift.

And welcome to writerscafe! :)