“
Two young lovers were said to have died in that room. It is what drove Papa to his deathbed. It killed him for two years because of what he let happen up there. The story is real enough. And he believed there were ghosts because of it.”
“
I swear, I nearly pee myself just walking in the shop!” and the titters started again at what Aunt Audrey said, “How you spend hours there alone Shelly, I don't honestly know. Whatever you are designing, if it advertises ghosts, people are gonna get their money's worth in that place.”
That concluded the subject of the studio. They spent the rest of the time catching up on their gossip and happily trashing everyone else in the clan. They even finished the meal without a public discussion of Shelly's need for a man, and she was really grateful for that. But the subject remained in their eyes as they talked about everything else possible, yet winked at her each time they caught her glance.
As all the goodbyes were being said much later that evening, Dannie pulled her aside, and whispered, this Evan fellow, was almost too cute to pass up. He displayed a thoughtful, dreamy quality, which meant he would have little to say. A quiet man was prized among the Reisman women. Lips were for kissing and saying, “yes” at the appropriate times, but the women governed the clan. Dannie was going to send him over to the studio in a few days and let Shelly decide for herself, and no, she was not going to tell him why he was going!
To Shelly, the thought of having help from a Bryant was just the sort of offense that would be delicious to inflict upon her family. The uproar would be deafening and she would love every agonized complaint they would shout at her. She relished her role as the Reisman who would get her way over many injured foes, and she was sure Grandma Sareta thought it a wonderful talent. Grandma was one of her strongest supporters, always saying, if any Reisman could love the shop the best, it was her granddaughter Shelly.
Shelly waited impatiently two days for the mystery Bryant photographer named Evan to drop by the studio. The lack of an appointed time kept her distracted and unable to concentrate on any other work; she started at least three tasks, and nothing was under control. Having almost given up, she was not expecting him to wander around the building by the alleyways. She first noticed the very top of his head as he passed under the windows in the studio. She suspected it was simply a workman returning for some tool or unfinished task, though it seemed a bit oddly done.
This flash of brown hair was not merely walking through the alley but jumping a bit at nearly every window. When the hair jumped round to the back she waited for a knock from the tiny porch, and the knock did not come. Annoyed that, whoever it was hadn’t the good sense just to come to a door, she hurried out the back way herself, and caught only the tails of him going into the other, darker side alley. She was in no mood to chase anyone, they might too easily be caught and she did not know all the neighbors. She might be catching a kook instead of the Evan she was expecting. So, she stood on the porch and waited. The wait produced neither a kook, nor any other person. No one came around the back again at all. Stomping back through the spoiled work in the studio, Shelly made her way into the shop, and around the belongings, still waiting to be organized, and stomped out the door in the front.
There was still no person there on the walk to be let in, or asked to go away instead. There was however, a person across the street, with a beautiful camera on a stand, and that person was waving furiously for her to move from his view. He was viewing her Reisman Portraits, and she felt it would be a better mannered person who would think to ask before shooing her from the front of her own place. Shelly marched across the street, directly in his view every step. He seemed more amused than she wanted him to be. It was much more fun to annoy people who were annoyed when you did it.
“
You know that place is on the historical registry?” Evan said to the young woman glaring at him. Glaring did not bother him in the least; she did not have any pepper spray in either hand so he felt safe to piss her off.
“
We own it, Stupid. Duh, it’s been on the registry for fifty years.”
“
Who are you, the owner?” Evan said and stuck his hand out. Shelly refused it and that made him smile.
“
Shelly Reisman. Yes, I’m the owner! What do you think you are doing?”
“
Well, first-” Evan said, and withdrew his hand, (he lowered his eye to his camera and seemed to wait for her to get the hint - she was still in his way) “-I’m going to take a picture of this beautiful building on the public historical register, then I’m going to walk across with you and find out why you wanted me over here today.”
He was still looking for her to move. But, she spied the camera he was using and the sight of it held her fixed in her steps. Finally giving the camera a good look she did not realize he was still speaking to her. The camera was a Waterbury. She had only seen the Reisman Waterbury a few times and this one in front of her was its near twin, just a bit darker in the wood stain. It was glorious to see.
“
Uh, you can’t take this picture until you teach me what you know,” she mumbled without hearing herself at all.
The Waterbury seemed to glow in the sunlight and its brass fittings were spotlessly polished. This was a treasured camera. It was a hundred years old and looked fresh out of the egg. Then she realized what she mindlessly told the fellow with the camera, and he had the very good sense to avoid any type of reply. She just turned around and walked back across the street and into the shop to fall to the floor in mock sobs at her goobishness. He was finishing the exposure and Aunt Dannie was right, he was too cute to be on the loose. His voice was soft and very deep; she could imagine the music it would make if she listened quietly against his chest.
Shelly answered the door when he knocked, as thought the previous meeting only occurred in a nightmare, which he was having. She took his offered hand this time and welcomed him into the shop. Oh, she noticed he owned a Waterbury, those were such wonderful instruments, he could set it over there and she waited hours to meet him and, and, and the goobishness was creeping back. She almost asked him if he had a girlfriend, but was still enjoying a tiny bit of self-control.
Evan did not say much this time.
He just stood and drank in the interior of the famous old shop. He really was not paying any attention to the owner now at all. It was a very good ruse; she was insulted. But he already knew the color of her eyes, and that one little freckle, by her nose, was just where he liked it. What he noticed, nearly before anything else, her shoes were tossed the moment she walked back in the door. She was deliciously barefoot. They were both extremely good at summing up their targets and at the same instant - they were planning their second date.
This was already the first.
“
Shelly? Your aunt is my photography instructor. She told me I might like a chance to meet you and see this old place. You’re renovating for some kind of re-opening?”
“
Yeah, but she’s gonna drive you bats with questions, so I’m not telling you squat that you will blab to here and back,” she smiled at him. He really likes my smile, she thought to herself.
“
Well, I’ve heard a lot about this place from my folks, and this is a real treat. But why did you want me to drop by? How did you know my family’s history?”
“
Oh, that?” she fought for some plausible justification for the invitation. And the goobishness was completely in the way.
“
Shit,” she explained. “Just follow me. I’ll show you and then you tell me,” she turned before he saw her blush and walked slowly to the stair in the rear.
They enjoyed the fact the stairs in the back were so intimate. It was a nice walk up. There was no reason whatsoever they did it shoulder to shoulder, but it was nice. When Shelly opened the storeroom door and Evan stepped in, she felt a chill up her spine, which took the pleasant trip up the stairs and soiled it. Almost bolting the room, she gasped and when he turned around she almost made it worse by rushing to him. There was a sensation she had never felt and did not enjoy at all. Her entire life she wished to roam this wonderful old building with abandon, and now she could not make her feet move. The room was menacing and it made her eyes water. Evan’s reaction made her apprehension worse; she could not make herself enter the room.
“
Oh, man, this stuff should have been hauled out ages ago. This is like a gas chamber, and I’m not being funny,” Evan said as he rushed to the window with his nose covered and his eyes squinted.
It took some effort, but the window tilted and there was a hint of air. Not satisfied, he came back across and took Shelly’s hand to get her back down the stairs. At the bottom, she could breathe better and stammered about their reaction.
“
I’ve been in and out of there this entire week. Inventoried everything just the other day. It has never been like that, ever!”
“
Well, something in there is leaking and until it clears out we shouldn’t try to find out what. You must have disturbed some cartons that didn’t like being moved,” he said. She noticed he still held her hand and was looking at it, realizing it was the wrong hand to search for any ring.
“
No, I’m not married, Stupid,” she smirked at him. It was fun, catching him at his game.
“
That is the second time you’ve called me stupid and you are the one standing under a dangerous chemical bomb,” he poked her nose.
She let him get away with it and that was all the permission he needed. They had struck a silent bargain; lightly intimate touching was accepted and they were both very comfortable about it.
“
Why am I here today, Shelly?” he asked. He still held her hand.
She explained it all very well, taking a lot of time to do it, and gave him a walkthrough of the entire shop and the studios. He was perfectly impressed. He was amazed at the vast gathering of family heirlooms and that this young lady was being as true to the history as possible. He appreciated that about her. Whatever she was planning, it was going to be so properly done it would rattle New York.
“
Then, you want to learn photography the way your great-grandfather did it? Why not just take a course, like I’m doing?” he asked her, as they sat on the divan, enjoying the change of light as the afternoon sun began to fill in a spot on the boards. She laughed at him and accused him of taking a course he obviously did not need at all, and his family name proved it. That camera standing in the shop near the great window was another proof. Anyone who carried a hundred year old Waterbury around for casual exposures was faking the need for a class. He just smiled a tiny bit. She told him they owned another Waterbury, and it was worshiped by the clan and never used. She wanted to change that forever and make the box her gift to her Papa, by bringing it back to life in the studio.
“
You’re going to re-open as a portrait shop?” he seemed incredulous.
She really laughed at him for that. But, no that was not what she planned, but the plans for the camera were exactly what she intended to do.
“
I’ve heard about your family’s Waterbury,” he stunned her.
But it was easily explained. It was famous after all, the camera that drove Papa Reisman to abandon photography, and he made some of the most important portraits in the city’s history. His lenses took most of the who’s-who photos in the history books. But Evan wanted to know - did Papa never, ever use the box, as the legend would have it?
“
That is one secret, Evan, I wouldn’t tell you for anything. Some ghosts will not be disturbed by anyone.”
“
Good subject…ghosts. Are the stories about this building true?” he looked around, as if he might see one standing in the doorway. Shelly burst into giggles.
“
I thought suddenly it was when we tried to breathe upstairs. That was awful, and unexpected. And that room is the center of all the haunting stories in the family. It was truly weird. Thank you for getting us out of there,” she lowered her eyes. He took it as a very thoughtful gesture, and told her she could repay his saving of her life, by having dinner with him. She stunned him then.
“
Oh, that’s taken care of. We’re eating here. Just as soon as I call the pizza.” Evan decided it would be well worth any parking ticket already waving on his car out front.
They spent the remaining afternoon looking over her inventory listing and he highlighted the items that were decidedly dangerous. They really needed to call someone for help because it was a seriously poisoned room, now the fumes had escaped their containers. Evan kept saying it could have burned the place to the ground two generations ago; it was that dangerous. But some of the things up there were very valuable. The parts for instance, should be catalogued, and the collectors would be beating down the door to get at them.
Most of the dry chemicals were still good; those would last nearly forever in the heavy glass jars that contained them. It was the cartons of old film stocks he suspected of causing the dangerous atmosphere; those were rotting the way dynamite does, leaching chemicals as they evaporate. He actually scared Shelly when he told her; she should be concerned for all the heirlooms until the room was made safe again. She made them stop what they were doing and start calling around right after that, arranging for professionals to come to the shop and look things over for her.