December 19th
"The Last Night"
Hope you are enjoying “Advent of Shadows” so far!
I may have gone a little rogue with my “scary ghost story”, but I hope Nathan and all of you will forgive me.
So, if you’re willing and ready, let me introduce you to Daniel: a sweet boy who just wants a quiet place to read…
The Hebrew letter “NUN”, meaning “Nothing” or “None”…
The pallid moonlight managing to meagerly seep through the clouds lit the snow-blanketed urban street like a faded, Dickensian dream desperately trying to cover up the nightmare of boxy, midcentury modern tract homes. The wind whispered secrets through the tall trees that cast oblong shadowy limbs across the cul-de-sac’s winterscape.
Set back from the street, the Korvitz house hunkered, light ebbing from its windows with a cheerful amber that clashed with the cool blue-white without.
Inside the living room, the scene glowed with the aforementioned well-lit warmth: lamps spreading brightness about and some decorative blue and white twinkle lights sparkling over the mantle where, dead center, stood a Hannukah menorah with nine candles all aflame.
Below, tucked in a corner, book on his lap, sat bespectacled little Daniel Korvitz, sunk deep into the damask wingback chair. Small for his six years, he looked completely dwarfed by the oversized furniture: like a discarded marionette. But his face beamed with shining eyes and a sweet smile as he affectionately stroked the brand-new book before lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply, eyes closed to fully focus on the experience.
Uproarious laughter erupted from across the room at the dining table which had been set up special for the evening’s extra guests. These guests included greying Grandpa Gene, plump Aunt Sarah, and unctuous Uncle Stu who sat with Daniel’s parents laughing from an unfortunate alchemy of bad jokes and worse wine.
Daniel’s smile faded as he gave the noisy rabble a glance. They didn’t notice him at all. He turned to look at his three older brothers playing a high takes dreidel game. No candy gelt, here; these boys played for real coin. And as the latest spin came to an end, the siblings’ verbal outbursts joined with the adult cackling.
Daniel sighed softly, shaking his head and returning his attention to his book. He reverently opened the cover and began to read.
After a short while, he became aware of a ghostly veil of smoke sinking down upon him. His nose wrinkled at the stench before he coughed and looked up to see Uncle Stu looking down on him, cigar smoldering in his fist.
“Why don’t you go play with your brothers?”
Daniel shrugged and replied, “I’d rather read.”
Uncle Stu huffed and moved on. Daniel watched him return to the table, muttering something about “a weird kid”. His father glanced over at Daniel, his face pinching with perturbation. The boy quickly dropped his eyes to his book. But he could hear his father muttering something about a “damned black sheep”.
Daniel wilted. Sat still, staring at nothing. Listened to more laughter, cheers and jeers. Then, with his book in his hand and an ache in his heart, he climbed out of the chair and slunk into the hallway.
Daniel entered his bedroom and closed the door. He set the book on his little desk, moved to the window and looked out. Maybe he should just run away, he thought. But it was so dark now, he could see his reflection in the glass. A vision of himself as a ghost.
And that’s how he felt. Like a ghost.
He huffed heavily onto the glass, creating a circle of fog. His entire face disappeared behind the warm, frosty layer. Just a hazy blur. But in that blur, he felt a sense of peace. A comforting quiet. He wished it could be like that forever.
But the fog began to fade.
Daniel watched it slowly dissipate, revealing his face again.
But something was off. Something was different. His brow furrowed as he leaned in.
It wasn’t his face!
The last of the fog vaporized and the face in the window was that of an old woman!
Daniel jumped back a bit, startled. Blinked a few times. But, yes, there was a withered crone in the window! The silvery moonlight made her appear almost ethereal. But she smiled a crooked-toothed grin and held up...a dreidel!
Daniel let out a “Huh!”
She held it out for him.
Daniel pointed to his chest.
“For me?”
She nodded.
He smiled. Came forward, reached his arms out and opened the window.
The old woman extended her boney limb into the room, the dreidel in her upward facing, nearly translucent palm.
Daniel reached out and took the dreidel. It was heavier than he expected.
He gazed at it, lying in his hand. It was old. Weathered. A relic.
When he looked back up, the window was empty.
The woman had vanished!
Daniel leaned out the window. He looked to the right. To the left. No one in either direction. He looked down. No footprints in the snow.
He leaned back into the room, scrunching his face with confusion.
He regarded the dreidel again.
A burst of living room laughter startled him.
Daniel spun around, hiding the dreidel behind his back.
His mother stood, looking irked—her hand on the knob of the now open bedroom door. She huffed.
“We’re paying a fortune to heat this house. Shut the damn window!”
Daniel turned and closed the window.
His mother huffed again and left, leaving the door open.
Daniel sighed and moved to the door. He craned his neck out and spied through the hall, to see a rectangle of the living room, where huge, distorted shadows and billows of smoke created a vision of hell, filled with laughing, howling monsters. His family.
Daniel closed the door and slid down its length to sit on the floor. He looked down at the dreidel in his hand. He shut his eyes. Took a deep breath. Opened his eyes again.
He set the dreidel on the floor...on its tip. Gave it a spin.
He watched as the dreidel spun. And spun. And spun.
Daniel bit his lip.
The dreidel kept spinning!
Daniel cocked his head.
The dreidel kept spinning!
Then, at last, the dreidel began to slow down.
Daniel watched...waiting...
Slower...
Daniel licked his lips.
Slower...
Daniel sucked in a breath. Held it.
The dreidel fell over, spinning on its side.
Daniel leaned in, trying to read it.
The dreidel stopped.
Nun.
Daniel leaned back. Exhaled.
Everything was so still.
Wait.
Everything was so still!!!
Daniel pursed his lips.
He rose and opened his door. He inched his way down the eerily silent hall to the living room.
He stopped. Stunned. Slowly, he entered.
The room sat, void of people. The chairs around the table were empty. The toys and dreidel game lay discarded. Only the last billows of cigar clouds hovered, like fading ghosts.
Daniel turned to see the eight outer candles of the menorah oozing whisps of smoke: wick tips still glowing orange from their recent, abrupt extinguishment.
Wide-eyed, Daniel approached the menorah, slowly.
The wick embers died as fading, phantom smoke curled from each of the snuffed candles.
Daniel stared at the one, remaining candle burning brightly in the center.
Finally understanding, he smiled. He went and got his book, made himself comfortable in the wingback chair, and enjoyed some quiet, peaceful reading at last.
Ready for more? Tomorrow, December 20: Short Fiction by Jet Propelled
A delightful story with a dark twist at the end. I've always disliked being disturbed when I'm reading, so yes I can sympathise with Daniel's point of view.
Like a horror movie version of Home Alone. Nice. Daniel just wants to read in peace. I relate.