Everything for the Hunt

Chapter Two

The misshapen bell above the door chimed as I walked across the threshold, the slight covering of dust from the bronzed metal falling onto my shoulders like a showering of small grey clouds. 

The antique shop that sat slim between two large convenient stores was overlooked at the bottom of Main Street.
                                      "Mrs Chambers?" I called out – dropping my bag behind the counter and meandering through the tall piles of antiques which took up the floor in a complex maze. 

I walked past the pyramid of china plates that came from a mix of different sets and ran my finger over the rusted metal of a small grandfather clock that sat next to it. The open door of the back office was dimly lit by a small table lamp – Mrs Chambers was sat at the desk, writing some numbers into her accounts book
                                       "Mrs Chambers?       

                                        "You startled me!" turning to look wide eyed – her grey hair tied up into a bun on her head and falling manically around her face. She rarely had her hearing aid turned up for fears it would drain the battery. I reached for her hand, the other encircling her elbow and helping her to her feet.
                                 "I'm glad you're here, I have a job for you" She always spoke like it was a coincidence I had shown up on my regularly scheduled shifts and that every job I did was a favour to her rather than work I was paid to do.

She led me back to the front desk and pulled out a brown leather-bound book as dusty as all the items in here.
                                "We've got two orders I need packing up ready for delivery tomorrow" she pointed to where her delicate old lady penmanship had filled in two order forms in a formal and barely legible script.
                                "Sure, I can do that... I might just run a duster over the items first though, if that's ok?" I waved my hand back and forth as if brushing away the dust in the air that was swimming in front of my face.
                                 "Darling, that's a wonderful idea. Now, I left the duster around here somewhere" 

*
                                  Mrs Chambers left the book of orders open on the front desk – the red satin bookmark underlining the first order. After a few attempts at deciphering her code I finally made out what had been written:

Mr Oliver – Carousel Figurine #2836 – 411 Vineland Drive.

The figurines were kept against the back of the wall – much like with the rest of the shop there was no order or organisation of them at all. 

While I wrapped up the ornament in paper and bubble wrap, Mrs Chambers emerged from the back office.
                           "Annie, sweetheart?" I brought the flattened box out from under the desk, when I popped my head up again she was stood waiting for me.
                           "Once you finish up with the orders can you lock up the shop? I would like to close early today" She adjusted the handbag on her shoulder, smiling sweetly.
                           "Sure, I've only got one more to do anyway." She dropped the keys onto the desk in front of me, lifting her hand to brush against my cheek and turning towards the door. The bell echoed into the now weirdly eerie building. The shadows on the floor moving with the light that reflected from the swinging door closing behind Mrs Chambers.
                           "One more order and I'm done" I whispered, looking down to the book but every so often glancing up with my eyes to scan the room. Without Mrs Chambers I couldn't pretend the noises from the back were her moving around. I was on high alert from the moment she left. The final order in the book was written slightly clearer than the first:

Mr Reynolds – Green Aztec Vase # 3957 – 5 Birch Lane

Unlike the smaller figurines, these vases were easier to spot. In fact, I could see the one I needed... right at the bottom. The #3957 vase was made of small pond green mosaic tiles with a black silhouette of a man in the centre. When I picked it up, tilting it slightly at an angle to be able to carry it under my arm, the mosaic tiles caught the light from outside and seemed to change from their original murky green and became alight with oranges, reds and yellows to surround the man. I couldn't quite explain how but as I tucked the vase under my arm it appeared as if the man had become engulfed in flames – the colours changing with each movement I made back towards the desk as if flames were flickering around him. I couldn't figure out how this was possible. 

As I placed the antique onto the counter, I paused a moment – closing my eyes and taking one deep breath – I always build up this place in my head as being creepy, haunted even, so much so that I always found myself checking over my shoulder whenever I had to walk out to the back of the shop floor.

As I rounded the counter to grab a box big enough to pack the vase, I noticed the tiles change once again. The silhouette of the man was no longer engulfed in fire. Instead, the tiles around him shined in sky and arctic blues as if he had been imprisoned in ice. The way he changed so suddenly sent a slow chill down my spine. I'm sure it was merely a reflection of items I had passed, or even cars passing the shop window, with a quick glance down the aisle nothing stood out as the cause – I saw no vivid reds and not even the whisper of any blues. I swallowed the developing lump in my throat and added this moment to the mental list I had created of weird experiences in this store.