As I cleared my lungs from the smell I stopped in front of a small store that had just opened on the main street in town. It was called Shaman's Art and Novelties. I am not sure why the figurine fascinated me, but I could not take my eyes off the brightly colored figure in the display window. It only reached to my knee but the wood carving skill was unique. The hair on its face and head looked human, but it was the eyes that sold me on it. How did the artist take paint and file and manage to capture the piercing gaze of a real person?
I walked into the store to find out more. The place was filled with stuffed animals, walrus teeth, old coins, post cards and maps from another age. A steady drum beat played as background music. The merchant who ran Shaman's Art was a thin, nervous looking man wearing a worn tweed jacket and a beaver skin hat. He noticed I was looking at the hat. "Sixty dollars for the hat," he said.
"Thank you. Just looking really. But since I am here, can you tell me a little more about that strange figurine in the display window?" I asked.
"Sure, let me take it out so you can get a better look," he said.
The owner unlocked the display; reached in and grabbed the colorful figure.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed. His finger was bleeding slightly from a splinter he received handling the doll. He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his finger.
"Handle with care eh?" I mused.
"Damn thing. I swear every time someone asked to see it I poke myself on it," he said.
"Is it indigenous made?" I ask.
"Tlingit," he said.
"Kling-what?" I ask.
"Tlingit. A native people from Alaska. This doll is close to two hundred years old," he said.
"How did you acquire it?" I ask.
"Its legal. I bought it at auction. I have paperwork for it," he said.
"Thanks, I wasn't really looking to buy, just curious," I said.
"Twenty bucks!" he said.
"Wow, that sounds like a great deal. It must be less than you paid," I said.
"It's taking up valuable display space. You are the first person to inquire about it in some time," he admitted.
"Well for twenty bucks I'll buy it. I am sure I'll get a laugh passing it on to somebody for their birthday," I said.
"Want me to gift wrap it for you?" he asked.
"Nah, that won't be necessary. I'll put it on my mantle for a while as a novelty," I said.
The cashier rang up the purchase. He gave me his business card. Mustafa Siddigi: Collector/Proprietor Shaman Arts and Novelties. He also gave me the authenticity paperwork which I stuffed in the box with my purchase. I paid, left the store with my curio item and returned home. I sat the figurine up on my mantle and put a red paper poppy in his hair and chuckled. This thing was a hoot and it was not something you could pick up just anywhere. I'm sure nobody else had one. I put the authenticity paperwork in a file and went into the kitchen.
The purchase put me in a fine mood so I didn't mind spraying down the microwave to get rid of the burnt popcorn smell. My cat brushed my leg and demanded lunch. She was one of those jet black short haired cats that cost a lot of money. I popped open a can of Kitty Delight stinky liver and chicken and spooned it into her bowl. How she can eat this stuff is beyond me, but the rotten aroma from the cat food did neutralize the burnt popcorn smell. "Here you go Miss Isis. Nice and stinky, just the way you like it," I said. Isis burbled in response. Once the cat was fed, I walked onto the enclosed porch and sat down next to my rare tropical plants to read a financial magazine while I waited for guests.
I had popped open a bottle of 2007 Gaja Barbaresco. I planned on saving it for my guests but decided to start the party early. It was nasty stuff really, but as any wine snob will admit privately half of the point of drinking an expensive wine is to look important...the rest is lies. Once you've had enough of any alcohol you can't taste it anymore anyway.
The doorbell rang. I sighed. I really should hire a butler. I'm just too damn cheap. It must be Sandra and Harold. The Rodgers were both lawyers. They were also the only people I ever invited to the house. I got up to answer the door.
"Well if it isn't Sandy and Harry...hey, come on in." I said with a smile.
"Fitz, why act surprised? Does anyone else even know where you live?" asked Harry.
"Now Harry, don't ruin the evening...I don't want the Ex to find out where I live. If she knew I had one bottle of scotch left she would want half or more," I said.
"I don't know why you care Fitz, you make more money than you can spend and you never buy anything," said Sandy. Her laugh was charming.
"Now come on. I buy things. As a matter of fact I have something to show you. I bought a piece of art today," I said.
I directed them to my study and with a flourish, waved my hand at the Tlingit shaman figure on the mantle.
"Eww. Fitz maybe you should go back to not buying anything. It's ugly as hell," Sandy exclaimed.
Harry laughed. "Were did you dig that up? Do you spray some Lysol on it first?" he asked.
"Now guys, you hurt my feelings. This proud Tlingit medicine man figure brings good luck. Any museum would be proud to have it in their collection," I said,
"Klinket? What is that?" asked Sandy.
The Tlingit are a native tribe from Alaska. I think they make their livings selling salmon to tourists," I said.
"The poppy flower is a nice touch. Brings out the thing's feminine side," Harry said.
I laughed. "Okay, okay. I surrender. It's ugly. That is part of the fun of it. Now let's drink this bottle of 2007 Gaja Barbaresco and talk about something else," I said.
We ambled into the living room. Two bottles of wine later, Sandy and Harry called it a night. I headed to bed. The nice thing about my Condo is everything is controlled by computer. The lights, climate control, shower...everything is monitored by a computer. The call it a Home Genie. I nearly trip on a pile of clothes getting to the bed. I need a maid...or a computer to pick up my clothes.
The alarm woke me at six in the morning. The lights came on automatically and the alarm shut off as soon as my eyes were open. My silk pillow was stained. It was then I noticed my ear hurt. I have pierced ears, but haven't worn my diamond studs in a long time. Again, I don't want the Ex finding out I have anything left. My ear was bleeding. I touched my ear and then looked in the mirror. The red paper poppy that I had placed in the Tlingit figure's hair was wrapped in my ear. The wire had cut me and the blood had ruined my pillow.
"How the hell?" I muttered.
I got up and walked to the bathroom to take care of the mess. I got to the end of the bed and fell flat on my face. The air left my lungs in a rush. After the stars stopped circling my head I got up to see what had happened. A couple of my Gucci Ostrich leather belts had been tied together and stretched between the bed and a recliner like a trip wire. That must have been a hell of a good wine last night! Why would I do something so stupid?
I forgot about my wound and hurt pride and looked for my revolver. Maybe someone had broken into the house. Why didn't the security system warn me?
I didn't find an intruder. A quick review of the security footage didn't reveal anything either. I made a note to fire my security provider and look for another company.
I had to cut the poppy from my ear with wire cutters. The damn thing was wrapped too tightly. It is safe to say I won't be wearing anything smaller than a beach ball in that ear for a few months. I did my best to seal the wound with liquid bandage, wincing when the sting of the antiseptic permeated my nerves. If it didn't heal properly I'd have to see my surgeon. The consultation alone could set me back a week's wages.
Normally I can handle my wine pretty well but I was feeling off today so I called in to work and told my secretary to clear my schedule for the next few days. I ambled into the study to run some analysis on my computer. I may have called off, but work is never far from my mind.
"That's odd," I muttered.
That stupid novelty doll wasn't on the mantle. I made up my mind to get rid of it. Where could I have put it? I took a look at the forecast models on my computer and forgot about the ugly little thing.
After an hour or so of working on my off day, I decided to check my files for some old financial records. I stumbled upon the authenticity paperwork for the missing figurine. I decided to read it over. Maybe this thing is more valuable than I thought and somebody broke in and stole it.
I skimmed through the legalese and disclaimers. The provenance of this artifact was interesting. Discovered by a Russian fur trader in 1753, it made its way to Istanbul in 1762, Cairo in 1771, and Boston in 1780. What happened with it after that was a mystery until 1985 when it showed up in Jerusalem. In 1994 it was sold by an Israeli antiquities dealer to a man in Seattle. It had been in the hands of Mustafa Siddigi since 2003. The Israelis had an expert look it over who believed it was not Tlingit but much older, possibly Assyrian. They compared it to λωτοφάγοι. A Lotophagoi or Lotus-Eater effigy, is a curse doll, created to destroy the memories of a person targeted in a lead scroll hidden in a hollow in the figurine. Myth says that if the person named in the curse is destroyed by the Lotophagoi, the figure gains freedom and will maliciously move from victim to victim, continuing to gain power with each new conquest. Legend says an industry developed around the production of Lotus-eaters resulting in the destruction of the Mycenaean culture, the fall of the Athenian hegemony and the fall of Rome.
"Fairy tales," I exclaimed. I was hungry. I decided to go out for lunch at the new gastrolounge on third street. I put on my blazer and picked out a nice pair of loafers and headed for the door.
When I woke it was pitch dark. My head was swimming. I tried to get up. My feet slipped out from under me from the effort. "Lights," I commanded. Nothing. Damn computers! Maybe the power was out. I flipped my shoes off and was able to get to my feet. I found a flashlight and checked my shoes. They were covered in a very slick oil. I walked over to the Home Genie. Genies are supposed to respond when you command them. This computer controlled home environment was begging to look like a bad idea. As I made my way down the hall I saw something in the dark. It was just a shadow. What the hell was that? I had a pet didn't I? What was its name? Must be the fall. Here doggie...um, here kitty," I called out. Nothing. Maybe it was a rat. If it IS a rat I am asking for a full refund. I pay too damn much to deal with vermin. Then again, that would have been the fastest rat in the city!
I fiddle with the connections on the Home Genie but nothing seems to help. Nothing to do but call management. I walked down the hall to my bedroom where I keep my cellphone when I am not at work. What was that noise? It sounded like hard shoes running in my bedroom. I swung my flashlight into the darkness, hoping to make out what was happening. It was quiet again.
"That was too loud to be my imagination," I said.
I shuffle sock-footed in the direction of my bedroom, trying not to make a sound. I peer carefully into the room, then dart my flashlight back and forth in sudden fear of the unknown. A creature let out a horrible moan and I scream in response. Silence. Now I am feeling silly. It was nothing. I continue to shuffle cautiously, slaying the darkness with my mag-light. Then I see it. It evoked both pity and fear. Some creature, maybe a cat or a large rat, flayed of its skin lie dying under the edge of my bed. I bend over to help the poor feline when I am distracted by a blur of movement. It looked like a small man wearing a black fur like a cloak. I point my flashlight where I had seen the movement. There is a sharp pain as something struck me on the back of the head. The room becomes darker and I lose consciousness.
My head hurts. What happened? I open my eyes and can't remember. Do I drink? This feels like a hangover. I look around. I am lying on a bed. I don't recognize the place. It's nice though. Whoever owns this place has some money! "Hello? Anyone home?" I ask. No response. It looks like morning. Maybe I got lucky last night? I get up and stumble to the hall. The room stops spinning after a moment and I go out to get my bearings.
The doorbell rings. Maybe it is the owner of this place. "Hold on. I'm coming," I yell.
"Fitz?" someone asked.
I open the door. There is a good looking couple in business clothes on the other side.
"Can I help you?" I ask.
"Funny Fitz! You are such a kidder," said the man.
"Is this your way of getting out of treating tonight? It's your night to buy dinner," said the woman.
I look at them puzzled. "Do I know you?" I ask.
"Oh come on...hey...when was the last time you washed?" said the man.
"I think I hit my head or something. My thoughts are not too clear. Come on in. Give me a minute to take a quick shower. I'll make it up to you," I said.
They both look at me with a strange glare but step inside and head to the kitchen like they own the place. Maybe they do, I muse.
"Why are the lights out?" asked the woman.
"Computer. Lights...heh...heh. I always wanted to do that," said the man.
The lights came on.
"Wow, leaving out the 2002 Dom Perignon where anybody can find it. What did that set you back? Three thousand?" asked the man.
"Help yourself. I think I am done drinking," I said.
"Now I know something is wrong," said the woman.
I leave them to the champagne, find some clean clothes that seem to fit me and head into the shower.
I seemed to have lost track of time in the shower. Did I hear a drumbeat? I was dreaming. In my dream I was the wealthy man who owned this condo. Someone was trying to harm me. I felt like I was running in quicksand. Eventually I started sinking and could not move. I startled out of the dream and noticed the bathroom was filled with thick fog. I remembered I had guests and rushed to get dressed. As soon as I managed to get my shirt tucked in I headed down the hall. It was really quiet.
"Hello?" I call out. Silence.
"The wine couldn't be that bad could it?" I ask.
I round the corner and see the bottle of 2002 Dom Perignon tipped over. Its one thing to leave without warning, quite another to tip over a good wine and not clean up the mess. I start forward when I see them around the corner in the living room. Both of them are hogtied and gagged. The are not conscious. There is a strange wooden looking figurine standing over them. He notices me and grins revealing a mouthful of razor sharp looking teeth. I move to help them when the homunculus points down. It may be the oldest trick in the book but I look down at my feet. There is a loop of thick rope around me. A moment later I am jerked from my feet, suspended a few feet off the ground. I struggle but cannot reach my legs or loosen the rope.
I can still see my guests. They are starting to revive. The creature turns its attention back to my guests. The monster has found a bottle of lighter fluid and is soaking my guests with it. He looks at me with a wicked grin and puts a finger to his throat slowly moving it across his neck like a blade. My guests have revived because they are screaming desperately from behind their gags. The sounds are muffled in this room. The figure stops drenching them with lighter fluid and stands in front of the man. It opens its mouth and a white mist leaves my guest floating away from his head and into the creature's mouth. The man's eyes transform from wild to vacant and his body goes limp. The creature repeats the action with the woman with the same results.
In that moment I heard it laugh. There was no mirth in the tone. It was a sound I imagined could only become nascent in the bowels of the underworld. It gave me a wicked stare as it lit a gold lighter it had found. I shook my head no. The creature grinned as it held the lighter to the feet of my guests until they were engulfed in flames. Then it approached me holding an aluminum baseball bat as large as itself. I saw that grin. Its breath I could not describe. Those eyes. Those black malicious eyes eclipsed me.
A woman approached the Shaman's Art and Novelties on Main Street. She saw the most interesting, colorful doll in the display window. It had the most life-like eyes she had ever seen. She decided to go inside and have a look around. There was a thin, nervous looking man packing some jewelry in a case. The news was playing on a television monitor near the cash register. She didn't want to display too much interest in the doll right away so she looked around at the other merchandise.
The television blared, "Our breaking story is the condo fire from last week. Police chief Samuel Patterson confirmed that the deaths were a murder suicide. The victims were Sandra Ann Rodgers and Harold T. Rodgers. They were prominent lawyers in a local firm and had been married four years. The killer was Fitzgerald C. Manning. He was a six-figure financial wizard at the city bank. The killer subdued his victims with powerful drug-laced wine and set them on fire. Then he hung himself. It is unknown what his motive for murder was but he had recently ended his marriage and went through a bitter divorce. Rumor has it that he lost most of his assets.
"The world is crap," said the store owner.
"Yeah, sometimes. I don't know what gets into people," said the woman.
"Can I interest you in some jewelry from Egypt?" asked the man.
"I'm more interested in that doll in the display case but I don't have much cash," she said.
"I think I know the figure you are talking about. Is twenty bucks too much?" he asked.
"I can afford that. Can you box him up for me? I want to surprise my husband," She said.
"No problem. Gift wrapping is free," he said.
The store owner poked himself on the figure as he removed it from the store window.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Just a splinter. Give me a moment to wrap up your item," he said. He expertly wrapped the figure.
"Wonderful!" she said. She paid the man, got his business card and walked out of the store with her novelty item under her arm.