Chris Castle lives and works outside London and has written short stories and two books. His main influences are the writer Raymond Carver and the films of PT Anderson.
Velvet (March 20, 2011. Issue 26. The SLAM & FLASH Issue!)
“What was he a pervert, or something?” her sister, Ellen, asked almost dreamily.
“No, it was nothing like that,” Kelly replied, half exasperated but smiling too. She moved so the crackle left the line. “He was just an old man who was sad, I guess.”
“Who wanted you to dress up for him,” Ellen said. She was smart at some things, Kelly knew, but was wide of the mark on other subjects, and that was the truth.
“No, I told you,” Kelly sighed; “It wasn’t like that; what happened, it was different to how you’re seeing it.” She took a deep breath and readied herself, feeling as if it was important, for some reason, to tell the story right and true.
“He came in and he was just puttering around, like a toy train, that’s what he reminded me of. So, I went up to him and asked him what it was he was looking for and he looked me straight in the eye, so clearly, it was like we were the only people in the store, or in the world, or something.”
“‘I want to buy all the things she never could,’ he said, real matter-of-factly, too, like it had to make sense. I looked at him, really looked at him, just to check he wasn’t drunk and was readying to paw me or anything, but he looked…lucid.”
“‘What did she want?’ I said to him, going along with, though I couldn’t say why, not exactly. Maybe there was something in those eyes, they just made me want to…find out, you know? And he just went right along, like he knew that was what I was going to say all along. So he looked at me and he held up this scarf, one of those pretty cashmere ones, and smiled.’
“‘You look just like her,’ he said and his smiled was just about the saddest thing I’d ever seen. ‘She was always so careful, see? With money; she always denied herself things.’ He said. Those eyes squinted, hardened real tight so they looked like jewels and he went on; ‘Don’t get me wrong, she looked like a million dollars whatever she wore, but she always held it back from herself, like she hadn’t earned it or something. Never could make any sense out of that, no ma’am.’” Kelly smiled, remembering the way he had said ‘ma’am’, like he was in some old TV serial or something. But it didn’t seem fake when he said it and she understood that was important, somehow.
“So I held onto the scarf and I asked him if there was anything else and he picked up this pair of gloves, the elbow ones that no-one ever cares about. So, he must have caught me grinning and he asked me to put them on. I think I must have blushed but he smiled and it wasn’t sleazy, not like how it sounds, but it was…like it mattered.’
“So I didn’t even think; not about why or the wherefores, but I just put those gloves on, all the way to my elbows. ‘She would have loved them, wouldn’t she?’ he said and I’d half forgotten he was there, the man, and he knew that, too but he was okay with it. I nodded and I kind of remembered where I was. ‘She would have been perfect.’ I don’t know why I said it, even now, I don’t know, but it was like he’d been waiting for me to say that the whole time and he just nodded his head, like I’d answered something important, even though, in truth, I’d barely said more than the first thing that had come into my head.”
“So what happened?” Ellen whispered; it could have been her sister or it could have been a part of Kelly’s own mind, still wondering.
“Nothing happened. I rung them up and he took them away. She was gone; I’d understood that, so maybe he was going to rest them by her grave or something. That would make some sort of sense to me.” The crackle came back and she moved herself again.
“Maybe he had someone else,” her sister said, kind of dreamy all over again.
“Could be, but I don’t think so, not the way his eyes burned; he looked to me like a man who was only gonna love once in his life.” She shrugged, even though she was alone; she didn’t have anything like the answer.
“Always making these dreams of yours real, huh sis?” She laughed and Kelly closed her eyes to listen; her sister’s laugh was a good thing and precious. “Look sweetheart, I got to go. Will you call me tomorrow, after your shift?”
“I will at that,” Kelly said and then it was goodbye. She slipped the phone back into its cradle and looked up to the mirror on the wall. Her bedroom was neat and well kept, as much as Ellen’s was, no doubt, at this minute, slovenly as Hell. But her sister braided her hair and that made most things alright.
“Her touch is eternity,” she said, imitating the old man’s voice, pretending what he would have said on the matter. She smiled and reached into her bag, setting down the purse and the bus transfers. Finally, she found the pair of gloves, stolen and perfectly folded in the corner of her bag; the security tags were in the trash, inside a pint cup of coffee. Kelly smiled as she slipped them over her skin, all the way to the elbow, savouring every moment. When they were set just-so, she peered back into the mirror. She looked at the black velvet almost bristling around her and imagined the man younger, the eyes still as blue as water, by her side. The two of them happy together; everything in life before them and nothing, not even a pair of exquisite velvet gloves, was out of reach.
Logicka (August 20, 2009. Issue 8.)
Lucas watched the flower seller from the supermarket window. He turned the aisles, the large mechanical cleaner humming and whirring under his hands. The flower seller emptied the buckets and swept away the petals into the drain. He looked at the clock on the far wall; it was an hour before Christmas day. He looked down and went on with his work.
By the time he was finished it was well into the night. The manager looked over his work and nodded. He smiled to Lucas and nodded to all the machinery; ‘Logicka’ he said, instead of logical, when they learnt the machinery together. The man shook him by the hand and they said goodnight. The man locked up and Lucas stepped out into the street.
The party people were all off the streets now; he had seen fights and screaming people; so sad on Christmas day to be like that, he thought. He left the building and walked away, waving to the boss who headed to the taxi rank; to afford such luxuries, Lucas thought. He stopped on the corner, and took a deep breath. He thought of Anika so hard he said her name out loud over and over to the empty street. Then he turned, looking both ways and headed back to the building.
He crouched by the drain and began to unscrew the grate; the pavement was still wet from the flower seller’s water but he tried not to notice. He lifted the drain and looked both ways down the street again. Then he climbed into the gutter and reached into the dark.
He unhooked the net that he’d fixed on the night before and hauled it up. Quickly he put the net into his sports bag and zipped it up. Then he crouched down, fixed the grate back down and then pushed up onto his feet and walked away. He waited for someone to call out, he waited to be caught. And all the while all he could say was Anika over and over until he was lost in the dark of the back roads.
He stayed up all the night. Anik
a was working overnight at the hotel and would be home at nine. They allowed enough money for a meal but no presents. They had called their families long distance and paid their bills for the month. The food was cooking slowly in the oven when he walked in and it made him smile, thinking about how they had read the recipe out of the local newspaper, gave up and relied instead on the woman Anika worked with for instructions instead. He changed out of his clothes and sat at the window over looking the town as he began his gift.
He took the flower petals out one by one and laid them by the window sill. He read the weather for Christmas day was going to be cold and bright and it was true. The dawn sun lit the room and dried the petals naturally, letting them cool but not curl. After they had dried he began arranging them in bunches on the ends of paper stems he made out of the leftover cardboard from the supermarket. Then he took the vase that had been broken on the shop floor that he had swept away and carefully fixed in his breaks and stood it in the centre of the room. He put the flowers and the stems inside it and took a step back.
He saw Anika walking up the road and she waved to him as he called out merry Christmas as best he could. She laughed and she said it back as she reached for her keys. He listened to her climb the stairs and then turn the lock in the door and walk in, calling his name. She stepped in and saw him standing next to the table and the flowers. Then she ran to him, climbed into his arms and the two shared their first kiss on Christmas day in their new country.