The Sea Crystal and Other Weird Tales

The Sea Crystal

and Other Weird Tales

Susan Berliner

Copyright

Copyright © 2016 by Susan Berliner

The Sea Crystal and Other Weird Tales is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

Published by SRB Books

ISBN: 978-0-9839401-5-9 (Paperback)

Cover design by Book Graphics

ebook layout by Wild Seas Formatting

Author’s photo by Rachel Leib Photography

Published April, 2016

Dedication

Dedicated to storytellers and story writers everywhere—

especially young creative writers

who are no longer encouraged to use

their imaginations in school.

Keep on writing!

Thanks to all the friends, family, and readers

who continue to support my creative writing efforts

and special thanks to my husband, Larry,

who is always there for me.

Quote

"Short stories are tiny windows

into other worlds

and other minds

and other dreams.

They are journeys you can make

to the far side of the universe

and still be back in time for dinner."

– Neil Gaiman

INTRODUCTION

I didn’t plan to write a collection of short stories. I wrote the first one, The Factory, because I needed a break from writing my never-ending doomsday novel series, The Touchers.

The break lasted for more than a year and resulted in these fourteen tales, presented here in the order in which I wrote them. The stories cover a wide variety of genres: horror, thriller, ghost, sci-fi, fairy tale, fantasy, and humor. Nearly all have a touch of the supernatural.

Some of the tales have interesting origins:

* The Factory stems from my fascination with the many red brick buildings—former mills—you see along Route I-84 in Connecticut and New Hampshire. I’ve always wondered what it would have been like to work in one of those old factories.

* Everything $50! was inspired by a dream in which I was charged fifty dollars just to enter a store. When I woke up, I realized the concept was ridiculous, as many dreams are. But then I thought: What if there was a store where everything cost fifty dollars?

* During a long wait in a hair salon, I got an idea for a story—about hair, of course. The Rapunzel Effect is the result of that experience.

* A discussion about the importance of language led to Wordless. It’s my take on what might happen if people lost their ability to use words.

* A former coworker has an intriguing job: She waters office plants. Her unusual occupation inspired The Plant Whisperer.

* While writing this introduction, I read a magazine article about Hello Barbie, a new interactive doll that talks to girls. Jeremy’s Toys is a tale about toys that talk to a little boy. How ironic!

The fourteen stories were great fun to write; I hope they’ll be great fun to read.

THE FACTORY

It was an ordinary factory building—the kind you see all over New England—an ugly red brick structure that filled an entire city block. At one time, it had been a booming center of activity with hundreds of workers; now it was just a vacant shell.

Annie Lemieux thought about the factory a lot. She was the receptionist for Handler’s Insurance Agency, located directly across the street, and her desk faced the building. In fact, that was all she saw through her window. The factory had looked the same since she took the job, nearly seven years ago.

The city, which now owned the building, had repaired the factory’s broken windows and maintained the property, optimistically posting a big FOR SALE or RENT sign on the front lawn. But the city had been unable to sell or even rent space inside because, through the years, the neighborhood had morphed from an industrial area to a gentrified residential one. Since the factory was no longer zoned for heavy commercial use, it was worthless to nearly all prospective buyers.

But apparently it wasn’t worthless to everybody. When Annie came to work one morning, she noticed the old sign had been replaced by a single-word sign: SOLD. She checked her phone to find out the details of the sale, but there was no information on the Internet.

Does anyone know who bought the factory across the street? she asked Austin Reemer, one of the insurance agents.

Not a clue, he said.

At lunchtime, she bought the daily newspaper and checked the articles, finally finding a tiny story on the bottom of page nineteen, which said the city had sold the factory to an undisclosed buyer and that it would be used for storage purposes only.

When she reported this update to her coworkers, two of them chuckled.

What’re they gonna store in there? Marv Phillips asked. Dead bodies?

Lindsey Scott poked him in the back. Nah, she said. I bet it’ll be used for illegal drugs.

Annie listened but didn’t laugh or comment because she didn’t think their remarks were funny. She also didn’t agree with either of them.

_____

The new owner of the building—whoever it was—moved quickly. The next day, trucks pulled up in front of the factory and Annie watched as bands of workers hauled out old machinery, tossing the pieces into huge dumpsters that lined the whole block.

At lunchtime, Annie stood in front of her office, eating a strawberry ice cream cone, as the men continued to pile factory debris into the giant containers. When she saw bolts of dusty, but still colorful, fabrics thrown away—many with floral and paisley prints—she remembered hearing that the factory had once manufactured women’s clothing.

She tried to imagine what the building must have been like then, with men and women working on large looms—or maybe rows of sewing machines—and made up her mind to find out what the inside of the factory had really looked like.

Back at her desk, Annie tried to ignore the activity across the street, but it was difficult because of the constant noise.

What’re they doing over there? Lindsey asked, covering her ears.

Duh! They’re cleaning out the building, Annie said.

Yeah, I know that. But why is it so loud?

Annie thought before replying, trying to figure out how to best explain the situation to the ditz. They don’t have a loading dock in the back anymore, she finally began. The city had removed that industrial eyesore to appease the neighbors.

So?

So now the workers have to take all the machines apart before they can carry them out the front.

Why?

Because they’re too big.

Oh. Lindsey nodded her head as she walked away.

Annie sometimes wondered why the firm had hired Lindsey. But, of course, she knew the answer: Lindsey sold insurance policies; she had movie-star looks.

_____

When Annie arrived at work two days later, the huge container bins were gone, replaced by a line of trucks and vans, the names on the vehicles describing their trades: Victor’s Electric, Sardoni Plumbing and Heating, New Century Carpentry, Mitchell Steele Contractors.

The renovation phase at the factory took longer than the cleanup; the last truck departed after nearly a week.

During that time, the noise was even worse than before, with the buzzing of power drills and pounding of hammers making it difficult for Annie and her coworkers to talk to clients in person or even on the phone. Several agents didn’t report to the office at all, saying they were working full-time at home instead. Annie wasn’t sure if they were telling the truth or not. But, as the receptionist, she had no choice. She had to stay at her desk and suffer through the noise.

Besides, Annie had no desire to stay home. Although she was thirty-one, she still lived with her widowed mother, a mean-spirited alcoholic, whose greatest pleasure in life was to put down her only child.

Each day, Annie could expect a variety of stinging criticisms from Mom. This morning’s farewell taunt had been, That top makes you look like a horse. Annie was a little overweight and Mom made sure she always remembered it.

Other remarks criticized Annie’s looks, intelligence, lack of friends (male and female), choice of job (Annie agreed with that one), and personality. Even with the deafening noise from the factory, being at work was better than spending the day at home with sweet-talking Mom.

_____

The renovation fleet was followed by one more truck—Westfair Pro Painters—whose crew worked quietly. With no more distracting noise, the sensitive-eared agents returned to the insurance office.

For the first two days, the painters worked inside the factory so Annie had no idea what they were doing. But, on the third day, even though the paint crew was still inside, she knew. They were painting the rectangular multi-paned windows: Every window was becoming black.

Cool, Lindsey said, pointing at the factory. I like the red and black—kinda scary, like a haunted house in a carnival.

But why would anyone permanently cover up all the windows? Annie asked. No one in there can ever see anything outside.

True, Austin agreed. But no one outside can see in there either, and, since it’s dead storage space, they probably want to make sure no light gets in. He shrugged. Hey, it’s cheaper than buying shades, especially since no people will be working in the building.

That answer made a lot of sense. But Annie still didn’t like the black windows.

_____

After the painters left, nothing seemed to happen in the factory. Each afternoon after lunch, Annie walked around the building, checking to see if she had missed any activity.

She discovered a small back door, which, to Annie’s knowledge, had never been used, even by the repairmen. One afternoon, Annie saw a white van parked in the street next to the rear door. Unlike the other vehicles that had been involved in the factory makeover, this van had no name printed on its side. Annie tried to peek through the van’s windows, but they were tinted so it was impossible to see anything.

After that, she checked the rear door of the factory every weekday afternoon. One other time, she saw a large unnamed black truck parked nearby. However, like the white van, the truck’s windows were tinted and Annie couldn’t make out anything inside.

_____

At home, Annie used the Internet to find out more about the factory’s history. She discovered the building had first been used to manufacture shoes (Steigler’s Shoe Company), then hats (Premier Hat Factory), and finally clothing (Arcadian Fine Ladies’ Apparel).

She searched for details about each of the companies and, when she found nothing, used her imagination to fill in the blanks. She pictured rows of huge tables filled with buttoned women’s shoes, ornate hats, and long fitted dresses. In the background were looms and sewing machines.

The open floor was noisy and busy, but it was clean and the workers were happy. In fact, the women sewing and weaving, as well as the men and women assembling clothing at the big tables, were all smiling and singing.

Annie realized her picture of the factory was totally unrealistic, but she liked it anyway. Why not? It’s my vision.

_____

Annie enjoyed her daily lunchtime walks around the factory. It was good exercise too, she reasoned, but she kept feeling she was missing something.

She didn’t see any more trucks or vans parked at the building. Although the factory had been sold, from the outside it was still the same ugly red brick building except, of course, for the black painted windows. The SOLD sign had been removed and nothing indicated the factory’s new use.

It’s just like before, Annie thought as she began her customary after-lunch walk. But when she reached the back of the building, she noticed a tiny ray of light filtering through the bottom of the rear door. Marching to the entrance, she turned the knob. To her surprise, the door wasn’t locked so—very slowly—she pushed it open.

The sound indoors was so loud that Annie was amazed she hadn’t heard it outside. And the sunlit room was filled with men and women happily working on looms, sewing machines, and large tables—much like she had