A belated delivery from Sareta, of a few extra heirloom boxes, produced some legal documents her husband held quietly, all those years. She told Evan she regretted they were not found earlier; there were certainly clues in plenty now, Papa suffered a swindle and never found relief. Evan listened to her apologies, hardly paying any real attention, as he looked into the cardboard boxes.
One of them contained a half dozen Ritmeester cigar tins, all given to Papa’s eldest son when he was a child, to keep childish treasures in. His son apparently kept them all.
All the documents she brought were surrendered to the estate upon Papa’s death, and into those tins they had gone, to hide. Papa tried many lawyers, but remained a slumlord, and was resigned to it. But it was not the only action solicitors performed at his instruction. Papa tried to contact families in Amsterdam, who lost or gave a child named Caraliza.
For the two years he lay dying, agents turned no trace of anyone who knew the child. Evan suspected, if they were contacted, they never would have admitted doing such a thing as sell a child; if they survived the famine during the Great War. Many did not.
Amsterdam suffered a potato rebellion in 1917; thousands of starving people rioted and broke into supplies meant for troops, people killed others to obtain food. Even as late as 1918 after the armistice, food rotted in Dutch harbors, the Allies refused to allow it to soothe German morale. Hunger became a weapon and life grew desperate, and it produced untold sorrows.
After the loss of Yousep and Caraliza, four other buildings on the street would be lost to fire. But at their end, surrounding the Reisman Portraits, nothing at all changed but the grate, which was added to prevent anyone descending that stair. Evan grew accustomed to seeing guests, bent with some age, walking in to have dinner, and keep their smile the whole evening. His Shelly captured a moment in time, and kept it breathing. The neighborhood loved the place now. It never became an eyesore in more than a hundred-twenty years of life, and it was not an embarrassment now. It was a grand spot, with a pulse, ages old. It could not be less than perfection; a Reisman still owned it.
Her first anniversary in
The Studio
was celebrated by signing the deed; she bought it outright. Shelly owned every whisper in the place. Evan sensed it was the crowning moment. Something she never dared dream in all the dreams. It was entirely hers.
Papa reacted to Evan taking the secret of the keys to keep as his own. Papa settled into another dotage, and was quieter, but could still generate some panic. It was more likely guests were wont to weep into their dinner, but stay their seats, and endure his voice. Many times, Evan would see someone at the table stop their meal, wipe their eyes of the tears, and continue with painful but determined expressions. Papa still said vile things. The staff would tell Shelly of some new profanity and she would smile, telling them he was insane by the time he died, he could not help it.
“
So, Evan, how many of your clan has been in here?” Dannie asked him one evening.
They were dining in the studio and discussing the book Dannie wanted to write about the family history. Her book was to include reprints of all the hidden images, and all the family photographs they identified. It was to be a landmark undertaking; few families owned such a history as rich in original photographs.
“
Probably all of them by now,” Evan said with a wink. “They would never tell me they came in. I’m the first Bryant in a century to openly kiss a Reisman, and I’m still sort of cast off.”
“
Can you imagine, twelve of your own family show up for your wedding, and we have two hundred. What the hell were they thinking?”
“
That it would be fun to brag they stood us up. Why does it matter anyway, half the Reismans in existence think you’re a kook, too.” He smiled. She could not disagree.
“
Oh, no one would come to my next wedding either, I guess. They’ve been progressively worse.” And she laughed. “How long is Shelly going to keep reciting all this old, tired legend anyway? I would have expected her to stop coming to work after the first month, I sure would have!”
“
She has a lot more fun in the closet than you did, if you remember,” he teased her, “You aren’t tired of it either or this book would never have been imagined,” and nearly on cue, Shelly returned from the kitchen, with their desserts; something she created herself. Dannie must have approved because her eyes grew wide.
“
We’ve had another haunting under the mirror,” Shelly said as she sat down and slipped off her shoes, putting her feet onto Evan’s feet. “I swear I can’t tell if it is him or her, but they seem to like kissing ears. Little kids are really spooked by it, but the older guys just stand there.”
She and Dannie hooted, but Evan lowered his eyes as if he might have understood better than Shelly who might be doing that.
“
Do you really visit that closet every night?” Dannie asked, and Evan was instantly glared at. “Oh get over that, your hostess and I are buddies. You can’t get away with anything in here she won’t tell me about.”
“
In fact, yes I spend as much time there with my ghosts as I please, Witch. When they tire of me it will stop,” Shelly said with defiance.
“
So what does your Hubby think about you trysting with a ghost in there?” Dannie wanted to know. Neither face gave her any answer. “Oh, you two are nasty little bunnies, aren’t you?” and she turned her attention to her dessert.
“
You can have the Yousep roses photo next week, we’ve never made a print of that, but if you use any of the Caraliza images would you air brush her for us?” Evan asked. Dannie seemed surprised. He explained, “She might be perfectly proportioned for today’s fashion world, but she was a starving young girl then, and she is completely nude, and underage. You might have some publishing problems.” Shelly nodded in agreement.
“
You would not believe how many creeps try to get photos when the image comes up out there. It is just disgusting.”
“
I suggested all those things,” Dannie defended herself, “for exactly those reasons when you framed her image. The creeps wouldn’t try so hard if you let me put some flesh tones on the naughty bits.” And Shelly nodded her head just a little. To her a few creeps would be the small price paid for the unaltered beauty the image first portrayed, and she still thought it the proper decision to let Caraliza live that moment forever.
They not always were creeps, drawn to the frame when the mirror let the image come through, several photo experts were stunned at the size of the printed image and the clarity it contained. She granted quite a few special showings, but the plate was never allowed to leave the chest for anyone. They would not risk losing the original glass.
Dessert was devoured, Shelly was congratulated, it was delicious, but the truth of the visit was about to be revealed, and Evan suspected it all along. Dannie was indeed writing a book, but it could not be done without a chapter or two about the ghosts, and Shelly was the only Reisman who held the answers to all those questions. Yes, she lived it. She must have suspected Dannie really wanted an interview, because she reclined back in her chair and just stared at her aunt. Dannie looked incredibly guilty.
“
You think I can get this published without getting into the hauntings? Are you nuts? The public loves this place because something always happens, but no one ever gets hurt. Dreamy Evan here was spook target number one for half a year! Why can’t I put that stuff in my book?” She was exasperated because this subject was always declined when she brought it up. Evan and Shelly just sat holding hands and gazing at each other with love in their eyes. Dannie was pretending to retch at them. “Ok. Shit! You can write it. I will let you write about the ghosts!” and the agreement was in place.
“
Dannie, you have to understand, you-don’t-understand! Understand?” Shelly laughed, and suddenly widened her eyes. She quickly put Evan’s hand to her belly and he smiled as she rubbed his hand back and forth.
“
God, you two are disgusting. Are you going to be satisfied Evan if your baby looks like a dead Jewish kid?”
“
Who is being disgusting now, you old hag!” Shelly laughed. “Caraliza probably has a least a dozen little demon babies from Daddy boy here. It would only be fair.”
Dannie looked shocked.
“
Jeez. You are the creepiest broad I ever met Shelly!”
“
Some of our secrets shouldn’t be told Tiddles,” Evan said with an embarrassed smile, but instantly regretted it. Shelly shot him the hottest look he’d endured for a great while. Dannie, however was wide eyed and spluttering her coffee.
“
She lets you call her Tiddles? Oh that is just too rich!”
“
He does not call me that! Ever! Again!” Shelly put them both under her daggers, but Dannie was not going to relent, Shelly was trapped and it would be delicious. “Don’t you dare!” Shelly hissed at her.
“
Evan, Sweetie,” Dannie cooed, while Shelly battered her shoulder and growled. “Do you have any idea, darling why she is called Tiddles, or why she acts like this?” Shelly was pulling Dannie nearly out of her chair at this point and Evan was feeling quite small. He knew Dannie would get to go home; he would get punished for this all night.
“
BECAUSE,” Dannie raised her voice, threatening to tell the entire dining room the awful truth, but she lowered it to a honey toned whisper, “-because when she was five, she would wander around the house naked in front of everyone, patting herself, telling us someday she was going to have great, big, beautiful tiddles!” And Dannie lost her control, screeched and raised a lot of eyebrows.
While she doubled over in her seat, Shelly shrank and flushed the deepest crimson, but she put a foot next to Evan’s shin, and he graciously endured her kicks until she finally seemed tired.
The theater play was not growing old to Shelly, but it was becoming a little uncomfortable. Evan would watch her present the family history, always from his favorite spot within the closet door, and would marvel at how lovely she was becoming. This was not the same Shelly Reisman, merely stunning as she marched across the pavement outside to glare into his lens; the woman he married was a very fine beauty. Being with child, she could make him forget time itself as he watched and stared. How beautiful would Caraliza have grown to be?
He thought it strange, the depth of the questions their lives asked and answered, only to find new questions behind, wanting to be asked. Living with the Reisman ghosts did not end, ever; it subtly changed and grew more beautiful. Shelly and Evan agreed, Dannie could not do the story any justice at all, because it must be told with love, even the parts that hurt his forehead, or his throat just to remember them, and Dannie could not put her heart around that. That is what it took to understand it all. Hearts were haunted there, and if one had a small heart, they were just ghosts.
Shelly, it was well known, was a tremendous heart. In a hundred years she would have the renown Papa enjoyed, but she also had the deep desire her spirits should be free of the building. She and Evan talked that the lovers might have their freedom already and chose to stay for more love. But Papa was a mournful soul. It troubled Shelly she could never feel or touch him there. This one presence was not hers to share. It felt more a punishment than a quirkiness after such a time now. Evan was feeling the pressure of the secret keys in the middle of his heart, and constantly wondered, should she be told; it might be the release she sought. What would Papa do when grief and secrets were no longer chains for him to weep behind?
His answer came one night in the closet. He was not there for Shelly, or for play, but to ask. When the warm hands touched his face and he felt a cheek against his chest, he asked her what it would mean for this last secret to be revealed to Shelly. The answer was profound. Nothing was said. He was just held very close and her warmth grew intense.
They stood quietly, enjoying the embrace, and she cooled before she reached up to kiss his mouth and fade away. She and Yousep had told him how to break the bonds holding the brute. That prevented a sure death at the beast’s evil will. Papa was no such spirit and the two young lovers would say nothing either way about how he was released or held.
Whether they were held, or could be released, it just did not seem to matter to Yousep or Caraliza anymore. Evan came out to find Shelly waiting with a kiss of her own to give, though she did not take his place, she took his hand instead and they walked to the divan. Her shoes were long ago set aside somewhere, and she put her feet into his lap. This was to be a business discussion. Had she guessed; had something been given away in his expression?
“
You weren’t long. Was she there?”
“
Yes, but silent.”
“
What did you ask?”
“
What makes you think I asked something?”
“
Because you’re stupid and would talk to her first if it concerned spirits. And I’ve asked her about Papa too.” And she laughed at him. She settled back into the divan and put her toes up to his chin. “You’ve been troubled a very long time about something. Not hiding it well at all, but you tried.”