The Man in the Closet
Fiction
“Papa, Papa, come on. You need to come with me.”
He smiled as her little four-year-old hand wrapped itself around three of his thick fingers. She pulled.
“Come on, Papa. Come see what I found in the closet.”
So that was what he’d heard. She must have pulled every toy out of the closet. For the last ten minutes he had listened to the staccato steps of his granddaughter prancing across the hardwood floor above. He’d wondered when she would arrive, pulling him into her imagination.
“And what is it you have found?” he asked, a chuckle in his voice.
“A man. There is a man in the closet.”
“A man, you say.” What an imagination. This child, his only grandchild was as precocious as she was beautiful. Just like her mother, his own only child.
“Yes. Yes.” She pulled harder on his arm. Slowly he laid his paper aside and rose from the chair. He was not old. At least he didn’t think so. Sixty-five wasn’t old. But they had been sixty-five hard years. And he was tired.
He chuckled. “I’m coming, my dear.”
What new game has she thought of? Only last week she had me join her in a tea party with her teddy bear, a stuffed giraffe, and the Queen of England. Of course, Her Majesty’s appearance was notional. Try as I might, I couldn’t imagine her squatting to sit on the small toy chair next to the tea set. I can hardly imagine myself doing so now. The pain and difficulty I felt as I rose reminded me of all my sixty-five years.
The little girl jumped up and down with excitement. “Come on, Papa. Hurry, before he goes away.”
“Well, if he leaves, won’t we see him coming down the stairs?”
“No, no. He didn’t use them. He’s in the closet, silly?”
He had no response to her logic. He followed along, as quickly as his aching joints would allow. He carefully avoided the train of her ball gown, the Belle costume she would wear trick-or-treating that evening. A man. Where did she come up with this idea? I’ll play along. Anything to keep her happy until Susan and Peg get back.
They approached the first room at the top of the stairs. It used to be Peg’s room, but they had turned it into a playroom when Addie was born. Now it was filled with toys, books, and child sized furniture.
Addie pulled him through the door and to the closet. “See, there he is.”
He carefully leafed through the coats. Hoping to play his part in the game, he said “Good afternoon, sir. How are you?”
She tugged at his pants. “No, Papa. Down here.”
He looked down. “Where?”
“Kneel down. He’s back there.” She pointed to the back of the closet.
Well, this is a silly game. Last week she asked me to sit at the two-foot-high table. Now she wants me to kneel down and see a man who isn’t there.
He knelt, but it took longer than he’d expected as he coaxed his knees and back to bend in ways they hadn’t bent in many years. Bracing himself on the door frame, he eventually reached the floor.
She was still pointing. “See? There he is.”
He looked towards the back of the closet. His breath caught.
“Hello Alfred.” The deep baritone of the little man’s voice startled him.
Alfred? No one called him that. Not even his wife. Everyone knew him as Al. But here, in the back of the closet, a man perhaps ten inches tall was calling him by his proper Christian name.
“Hello.” Alfred’s voice became angry. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”
The little man stepped forward, into the light at the edge of the closet. “Now, now, my dear friend, is that any way to greet an honored guest?”
The little man was dressed in tiny black tails, a black and white striped silk vest over a pure white shirt. At his neck he wore a bright red bow tie. And on his head sat a tall top hat. Alfred considered it, comparing it to the size of the man, and figured on his own head it would be at least ten inches tall. Who is this little man? No one has dressed like that in a hundred years.
“Do I know you?”
“It has been a long time.” The little man rubbed his gloved hand on his chin. “I was afraid of that. You don’t remember the last time we met. You were quite young at the time.”
Alfred chuckled. “Young enough that I don’t recall anything about it.”
Addie pushed in next to him.
The little man placed his hands together behind his back. “Nevertheless, it is time. We have kept our end of the bargain. It is time for you to keep yours.”
“Bargain? What are you talking about?”
“No, no, no. I cannot explain it here. You must come with me.”
“Where? I don’t understand.”
“Nevertheless, you must come.”
Addie tapped his shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know, darlin’. I don’t even know if I will go.”
The little man coughed. “No. I must insist. You must come with me. It is time.” His voice was neither harsh nor excited. He simply stated things as he saw them.
“And why should I go with you? I don’t know you. Here you are, trespassing on my property. Why don’t you just get out.”
The little man shook his head. His voice was still calm, but a little sterner than before. “Now Alfred, I have asked politely. I have insisted politely. Truly you must come with me. There is no argument you can make that will dissuade me. Believe me, if you refuse, I have ways of enforcing your obedience. You must come.”
“Can I come? Can I come? Please?” Addie pleaded, jumping up and down, and pulling on her grandfather’s arm.
Alfred was taken aback. He looked to the little man.
“I suppose she can. Truly it’s up to you.”
She jumped with joy. She was Alfred’s best buddy. They often went on adventures, usually ending at an ice cream shop or a toy store.
“So, where is it you want to take me?” Alfred asked, as he struggled to his feet.
“Not far. It’s just through here.”
“Through… the closet?”
“Quite so. Quite so. If you will follow me, we will be on our way.”
Alfred looked at the closet full of coats, his heart pounding in his head. His palms were suddenly damp. Am I really going to follow this little man? I must be insane. And to take Addie with me. Can I get her to stay?
He looked at Addie.
No, probably not. She’d just follow me, anyway, not wanting to miss the fun.
Putting his hands in the center of the coats, he pushed them as far to each side as he could. He took a deep breath. Addie bounced with excited energy. “Yay. An adventure. Do you think they have ice cream?”
Alfred chuckled nervously. “Well, we’ll see.” He took her hand, and the two of them stepped into the closet. On crossing the threshold, the closet disappeared. The house disappeared. All that Alfred knew disappeared, except for Addie.
Her warm hand gripped his fingers tighter. “Where are we?” She had an air of frightened mystery in her voice.
“I have no idea.”
The little man stood just where he had been in the house, only a foot or so in front of them. “Come along, then. We have a long way to go.”
“Papa, look at the ground.”
Alfred scraped some leaves aside. The ground seemed to glow with an iridescent green light. Strange looking trees hung over the path, their black branches and blue leaves seeming to shade the sky from the glowing ground.
“Where are we?” Alfred asked.
“Not there yet. We must hurry.” The little man neither looked back nor stopped walking.
Addie commented on everything that crossed their path. “Look at that tree. What a funny shape.” She pulled at Alfred’s fingers, trying to go inspect each new thing. Alfred held her fast, fearing she might get lost if he let her go.
After a while Addie grew tired. Her little legs had great difficulty keeping pace with the little man. How can he walk so quickly? His legs are only four or five inches long. Alfred picked his granddaughter up and put her on his shoulders, her thin little legs straddling his neck. I can’t believe how light she is. Soon Addie’s head drooped against his, and he heard the deep breathing of sleep. On they walked.
Alfred noticed his aches and pains were gone. He found himself keeping pace with the little man without effort, though it had been all he could do to walk through the store just the day before. How odd.
Deeper and deeper into the forest. Several times Alfred looked back. It seemed the trees had closed behind them. No path or clear vista appeared. What is this place? They passed neither man nor beast. It was as if the three of them were the only three beings in the world. His legs didn’t seem to be tiring. No, he felt better than he had felt in years.
He lost track of time. He was so focused on the little man, making sure he didn’t lose sight of him, that he barely noticed that several hours had passed. Suddenly they entered a clearing. It seemed to be a perfect circle, with trees forming an impenetrable wall in every direction. The ground was solid rock, green, and glowing. Before this detritus from the trees had covered the ground, such that he only got fleeting glimpses of the green rock below. But now it shown brightly. Almost uncomfortably brightly.
Exactly in the center of the clearing though still a long way off, Alfred could see a structure of some sort. It took some time for the shape to become clear. It was a building. But what kind of building he couldn’t say. Though the circular clearing didn’t seem that big, it took a long time to cross to the center. The closer they got; the more Alfred didn’t want to go. He stopped.
The little man turned. Calmly, but insistently he said, “Come along, Alfred. We mustn’t keep him waiting.”
“Who? Who is waiting for me?”
“Come along. Come along. You’ll see soon enough. Dawdling will only make it worse.”
Suddenly Alfred was frightened. “Make what worse?”
“Don’t fret. It has really already happened. No amount of stalling or flight can save you now.”
“Save me?” O God. What have done? Why did I follow this little imp? And why did I bring Addie?
“Come along, man. We are close.”
Seeing no other option, Alfred continued to walk.
A nagging familiarity grew in Alfred’s heart. I have been here before. I don’t remember it, but I know this place. But why was I here?
The building was coming into closer view. It was gray, short, and flat, only about ten feet tall. It surprised Alfred that he had been able to see it for so long. Eventually they approached a door, a dark space in the light gray walls. The little man went through, disappearing into the darkness. Alfred hesitated. He dared not enter the door. Fear almost overwhelmed him.
“Come along, come along.” The little man was clearly still aware of him.
Alfred lifted his granddaughter from his shoulders and took her hand.
“Where are we, Papa?” Sleepy wonder filled her voice.
“I’m not sure. But I think we are getting close to the end of our adventure.”
He ducked his head and they stepped into the dark. Suddenly the space lit up. Light glinted off thousands of crystal chandeliers, green and shining. Facets refracted the light into rainbows, various shades of green. Again, Alfred hesitated. The little man was just in front of him.
“Come along, Alfred. We are almost there.” His voice was more somber and serious than before.
Alfred looked down at his granddaughter. Why had he brought her? Clearly something bad was going to happen. And she would watch it or have it also happen to her. What had he done? Resignation filled his heart. Nothing could be done. He had made the choice, and she was there.
The space was immense. A narrow path led through green stone statues, each life-sized and intricately carved. As they rounded the base of one, another appeared directly behind it. Alfred looked at the statues. Each one seemed to show a different occupation. There were soldiers, sailors, bakers, cowboys, dancing girls, housemaids, kings, queens. Statues of men and women of every description filled the hall. Addie commented on each one, naming those she recognized, and asking Alfred about the others. The path wound this way and that, so much so that Alfred became confused.
“Are we going the right direction?”
“Yes, yes. We’re almost there. Just stay close. It’s easy to get lost here in the Statuary.”
They passed one last statue, a large man wearing knee high boots, loose britches, a saber at his hip, and a tri-corner hat, with a patch over his left eye. In the center of a large circular space a golden throne with bright red leather upholstery sat atop a green stone pedestal, four broad steps leading up to it..
Visions of this room and the throne filled Alfred’s mind, as if glimpses of memories. He had been here before. He knew it now. But why? Fear became almost panic.
The throne grew large as they approached. A tall man, dressed identically to the little man Alfred had been following, sat there, his fingers tented together watching the approach of his guests. He smiled and rose, coming to meet Alfred a few feet in front of the throne.
“Alfred, my friend. At long last, you have come.” The man’s deep voice sent a shiver through Alfred.
“So, it would appear. But where am I?”
“You remember, don’t you?”
“I recall bits and pieces. I was very young, I think.”
The man smiled. “Yes. Quite young. Much like this little lady.”
Alfred looked at his granddaughter. What is she thinking? Is she afraid? Is she excited? Oh, why did I agree to bring her? She seemed to be in awe, finally silent for the first time since they had entered the building.
The man smiled. “And now it is time.”
“Time for what? I don’t understand why I am here.”
“You were last here sixty years ago, this very night. Sixty Halloweens. Have you enjoyed them?”
Alfred shook his head. “I suppose. But what does sixty Halloweens have to do with anything?”
The man took a step closer. “Well, it is quite ironic, isn’t it? Sixty Halloweens ago you came here with your grandfather. Just as this young lady has come with you. Then it was his time. The agreement we had made was expiring, and he had to come, to stay with us for the rest of eternity.”
A shudder ran up Alfred’s back. His memories of that night were still vague. He remembered standing in that very spot, talking to that very man.. But what had his grandfather said? Try as he might, he couldn’t remember. But he hadn’t died. Not then, anyway.
“No, he didn’t die at that time.” The man seemed to be hearing Alfred’s thoughts. “Your grandfather signed his contract as a young man, promising to deliver himself to us when he was seventy years old. But he felt he still had things to do. His agreement had an escape clause. If he could provide us with another, he would be freed from his contract. He could go on for the rest of his natural life, and we would quit any claim we had to him.”
“So, he…”
The man nodded, a mournful look on his face. “Yes, I am afraid so. He bargained away your soul. But he asked that we delay our claim, to give you time to have a life. We determined that sixty years would be fair. You could marry, have children, grandchildren. And then, when you had enjoyed sixty Halloweens, we would come for you, and bring you into our fold.” He waved his hands around the room.
Alfred staggered. How old was grandfather when he died? I don’t remember exactly, but he was at least eighty. And he was healthy and active until the very end. Then he just dropped dead. A massive brain hemorrhage, the doctors said. Nothing could have been done. It was just his time. How old was I when he died? Fourteen? Fifteen?
“So, Alfred, the terms of the contact are met. We have lived up to our side of the bargain. Now it is time for you to fulfill your grandfather’s side.”
Alfred shook his head. “Don’t I get any say in this? I didn’t sign any contract. I didn’t sell you my soul.”
“Too true. Too true. However, completely irrelevant. You see, contracts such as this do not follow mortal law. Though you had no say in the matter, the contract is valid. And its demands must be fulfilled.”
“Is there no other recourse?”
The man smiled. “Well, as this contract is an extension of the original, the same escape clause remains.”
Alfred looked at his granddaughter. “You mean…”
“Yes, you could sign her soul away. We’d be happy to give her similar terms, say sixty Halloweens. And then we will come for her as we came for you.”
Alfred blew out a long breath. I’m not ready to die. I just retired. My health is pretty good, other than some aches and pains. So is Susan’s. We have so much planned. So much life left to live. I certainly had hoped to go elsewhere when I died. I’ve lived a good life. I’ve helped others, tried to serve God. It would be so easy to just walk away, to let her pay my debt, as Grandfather required me to pay his. But it seems utterly unfair to sign away her soul. She’s so young, so innocent.
The man took another step forward. “What is it to be? Come Alfred, it is time to decide.”
Alfred closed his eyes. What am I to do?
A small, warm hand touched his cheek.
“Papa, are you ok?”
Alfred opened his eyes. He was seated in his chair, his paper on the floor. Bleary-eyed, he looked around. There she sat on the arm of his chair, looking into his face with her beautiful green eyes. He took her in his arms, weeping.
© Sean C. Jones, 2021
