Mr. Alan

Will you meet him someday?

Many stories that stimulate your imagination exist, but deep inside you know they couldn’t be real. For example, every ghost story you have heard. You would never believe them, but you still enjoy hearing and even telling them to others. Well the story I’m about to tell you is an odd ghost story, that I know you might not believe. But, if you had heard this story the way I did, during a rainy night, outside the Town Hall, then you might have had a different opinion about it. That, of course, if you had had the strength to hear it till the end. It’s time I reveal you who told me this story. Good guess. Mr. Alan.

I heard this story the day I met Mr. Alan. Since then I haven’t seen him again. I met him late at night, on my way home from work. I own a small store and I repair broken radios, especially those of the past decade with transistor lamps, if you know which ones I mean. The road I use to return back home passes in front of the Town Hall, which is a big beautiful two-storey building, built in 1920. It’s majestic and it can scare you when you pass by at nights. I have always been curious about a strange small door it has on its right side. How could a door possibly be strange you might ask. Well, that one is so small that you have to kneel to get inside and it also has a small window with bars at the top of it. You could easily assume that someone was imprisoned behind this door. So I avoid looking through that window every time I pass by it. If I hadn’t looked at this window that night, then I would have never met Mr. Alan. But I did. And I saw his shiny eyes. ”Fast, we don’t have time.”, he whispered.

At first, I thought that my mind was playing games with me. After all, it was a tough day at work so I didn’t pay attention to the whisper I just heard. ”Fast, we don’t have time. Look at the window!”. I was sure that this time the voice wasn’t created by my imagination. I turned and reluctantly headed towards the small window, finding myself looking straight at his shiny eyes. His face was that of an old man and his tidy hair had become white a long time ago. Before I had time to think, I heard his voice again. “I didn’t mean to scare you, young man. My name is Alan and I want you to listen carefully. I will tell you a story. It’s the first time I tell anyone this story and I don’t want to do this again. Please come closer.” I nodded at him and approached him even more. I wasn’t afraid of this man, whom I saw for the first time in my life. I wanted to hear so badly what he had to tell me, that I didn’t want to interrupt him. I said nothing.”You must be wondering young man why I chose you instead of any other person in this town. Well that’s because this is not the first time we meet! I had once come to your little store to talk to you about my old radio. In fact, I had given it to you for repairing. But it’s time to listen to me carefully.” I was totally sure I hadn’t seen Mr. Alan before. Let alone had we talked in my shop for some kind of business. But Mr. Alan sure knew a lot about me. Suddenly my curiosity turned into concern. And I stared at his shiny eyes.

“I will tell you about the room of spirits, young man. It was a rainy night when I walked by this Town Hall, just like you. I was young back then and curious when I noticed that the door, this very door that separates us right now, was wide open. I kneeled, as it was necessary, and walked in. It led to a room with a table and an even smaller door. There wasn’t anything else inside except from a key on the table and next to it an old red radio with wings attached to its sides. I presumed that the key was opening the second door and I was right. I had to drop down on my knees and be careful not to hurt my head in order to enter this second room. Luckily for me, there was some light allowing me to see my way around, but I couldn’t distinguish where it came from. This room was much bigger than the first one and I couldn’t see its end. It was completely empty except from the canvas paintings hanging on the walls. I had never seen so many paintings in my life. All of them portrayed people with a lot of detail. Some of them seemed like kings, some like ordinary people and some even looked familiar to me. I kept moving on and staring at the faces around me. The room seemed endless but I kept on walking almost certain that it would eventually end. Suddenly I came across an unfinished painting. Someone had drawn my face on it and even written my birth date correctly. They had also written another date, the one when these events took place. Then, I was really afraid. I started running to get out of the room, looking desperately for the door. I could hear people laughing, like every painting had its own voice. And then I realized what all this was about. I stopped looking for a way out and started walking towards my very own painting. Familiar faces had appeared next to me. Each one with its own painting.”

A lightning made me lift my face skyward. When I looked at the window again Mr. Alan had disappeared. I smiled and thought that I was too tired and I had probably imagined all this. And then I remembered that red radio. Indeed I have in my store a very beautiful red radio and it even has wings on its sides. I can’t recall how it got on my hands and I had never bothered myself with it. I looked again through the small window. Those shiny eyes were still there.”Come help me finish your painting, young man.” said Mr. Alan smiling.