The Candlestick Holder

It was summer, the first few days of July, and Michel was in his car, enjoying the pleasant Ontario scenery of verdant green leaves on every maple tree he passed, going over a bridge over what appeared to be “troubled waters”, as his Dad might say.

As he took a right at the intersection, giving just enough of a rolling stop past the stop sign in his black pontiac to not be pulled over by any lurking police officers-- “Stop-tionals”, he likes to call stop signs, one of many terms he picked up from his weed-loving friends.

He’s en route to his older sister’s birthday party, taking place at the family cottage. Not a very long drive, about three hours, with several beautiful small towns to pass through.

This one, the aptly named “Pleasantville” just so happened to have a yard sale being held by two clearly beautiful, tall blonde women, likely sisters. He saw this as he was sipping small amounts of vodka, washed away with coca cola, and all at once realized he didn’t get his sister a gift. He didn’t typically, he never had the money to do so (yet always seemed to have just enough money for the devil’s lettuce), but today would be different. “I’m not gonna let my sister go giftless for yet another year!” he heard in his heart-of-hearts, and pulled a quick u-turn on the wide street, and parked.

He knew right away what he wanted to get for her, a lovely battered chest, stained dark brown wood with rusted iron hinges and a large brass lock at front. His sister loved these kinds of things, second-hand being her first-choice more often than not.

So he approached the rectangular table with an assortment of ceramic figurines, various tools, and a queer rustic iron and wood clock ticking ominously, and surprisingly loudly. Behind this table stood two platinum blonde women with their hair in pony-tails, standing at over 6’ tall each, dwarfing his 5’7” stature.

“Hi there” he said mildly, they both smiled back and greeted him. “Oh why hello! See anything you’re interested in?” the woman on the left said with a twinge of flirtation in her voice. He certainly did, however he was also largely interested in the chest that stood behind them. Bending at his side to see behind them, two others were taking their look at it as well, two women, a brunette of petite stature on her phone and a red-haired girl, fair in complexion.

“How about that chest? How much would you charge me for that?” he asked.

“It’s $80.00” the woman on the right answered. “If you can pay that now, it’s yours. That girl on the phone is waiting to see if she can have cash delivered to her from her boyfriend, but if you have the money now, it’s all yours.”

He did. He took his black-leather wallet out of his also black running shorts, slid four $20.00s from within, and handed it to the woman on the right. “Bought it right out from under them!” he thought, “perfect story to accompany the first gift I’ve given my sister years”. The smaller brunette girl finished her call saying “oh no it’s okay, I think it’s already been sold after all”, as Michel placed one hand on each of the wrought-iron grips on each side of the large chest and proceeded towards his car. Michel suddenly stiffened his neck straight, feeling as though he forgot something very important. He closed the trunk, and walked back to the rectangular desk. He wanted that clock now too, and the woman on the left agreed to give it to him for free. He said “no, that’s okay” and made an index finger and thumb circle to say “that’s okay”. He took out the $5.00 bill from his wallet and took the clock. Michel turned back towards his parked pontiac to hear from the leftmost girl “wait, would you like to have this for free?” He turned back, clock ticking in his left hand. She pulled out a golden-yellow candlestick holder and handed it to him, it had to have weighed well over 20 lbs. Far exceeding visual expectation. It was smooth, and appeared to have been cut from a large yellow stone as he could see the striations and wave patterns typical of gemstones and minerals, perhaps some type of yellow quartz.

“It’s a family heirloom.” she mentioned.

This confused Michel quite a bit, she had a certain ominous tone to her voice. “Who gives away a family heirloom anyways? Last I checked, my family is all at my cottage right now…”

Deciding to think nothing more of it, he bowed his head to the two ladies and thanked them, and promised to keep it “forever”. He rarely used this word, so it struck him that he said it there and then. “Must just be the alcohol talking” he thought, and proceeded back to the roadway where his pontiac was parked, and hit the trunk release button to “pop” the trunk back open.

Placing his new spoils in the chest, he once more closed the trunk of his pontiac, and rounded towards the driver’s side door, and thought nothing of the tiny objects that have the power to change the entire world.

After what felt like an eternity of a drive, he finally arrived at his family’s cottage. It’s a modest thing, an old trailer-turned-house on a lovely piece of gold sandy beach overlooking a freshwater lake. He carefully drove between two ancient pine trees and parked. “Everyone is already inside” he thought, preferring to be able to show up with no welcoming party of his Mom and Dad, always so eager to help him unpack and unload. There was a sense that was overtaking him, a sense that he should remove the candlestick holder and the clock immediately, and never speak of them to anyone.

So he did just that, popping the trunk of old car his father gave him as a present earlier that year, lifted the top of the chest and removed the gold-yellow candlestick holder, which he thought to himself as some kind of grail, as well as the dusty old clock that ticked so loudly that it could be heard beyond its glass covering. He carefully hid these inside of his backpack, in between muscle-shirts and several swim trunks. Safe, and sound.

He shouldered his pack, and hauled the heavy chest out, and proceeded towards the screen door of the cottage. The screen kept out the mosquitoes, to a degree, but he loved it as he loved everything about his family’s little home-away-from-home. “But not as much as the grail” he thought, the thought coming to him as more of a whisper of another’s, and not his own. There inside his family, or rather most of his family, was present around the small round wooden table that took up most of the front den. Before they could realize his presence, he gave a hearty “happy birthday!” to his sister, standing tall and slender with platinum blonde hair shining in the Summer evening sun that found its way through the large glass window that made up the other end of the den. L.J., his big sister smiled with glee, eyes wide at the massive gift he had apparently brought for her! “A chest! Aww, you know I love these kinds of things, where did you get it? I absolutely love it!” “But she wouldn’t love it nearly as much as what used to be inside of it” Michel thought absentmindedly. “At a yard sale, it was actually on the way here!” quickly realizing how he had exposed the fact he hadn’t bought a gift sooner. “That’s amazing”, L.J. replied, “I love it”.

Soon the evening turned to dusk, with the sun glowing in a red miasmic sunset, and stars began to shine one-by-one over the freshwater lake as the red of the sky became blue, became black. Michel was swinging on a green hammock with the gentle breeze that only comes in early July. His backpack was still with him, hadn’t left his side since he arrived, but none of his family members seemed to take notice. Were too engrossed by the festivities, the cake, the music, the mimosas. For some odd reason he felt the need to keep himself somewhat separate from his family for the night, partially so he could enjoy the massive joint he had rolled in peace. He began to feel himself doze, until sleep overtook him. He slept dreamlessly, but awoke in a shock, the kind where you can feel the cold sweat on your lower back, and your lungs don’t seem to be receiving an adequate amount of oxygen. Breathing heavily, in other words, as the sun began to rise. Half of the sky was still the dark blue of early morning, with the light blue of the day beginning to overtake.

He rolled over, reached into his pack, and felt a massive sense of relief when yes, they are still there.

Why would he care though? He hadn’t cared for much other than a good smoke and his car, why does he care so much for these things?

“Because with them, space and time are at your fingertips, and any wish you may have will come to be”. At this point he slapped himself across the face, he was surely sleeping!

These words came to him as if he suddenly became schizophrenic overnight, but how could that be?

“Because it is true” he heard. Like a whisper on the wind, he knew wordlessly that he was entrusted with the holy grail, that it had chosen him to be its master. Doing as any would do, he pulled the chalice from his backpack, and held it to his chest. It was cold, but quickly became warm…and he began to shake, becoming freezing cold in an instant.

This was no holy grail! This is a...a trap! He realized all too late. A white glow emanated from his chest, and his spirit left him. His vision changed, the sky appeared to be turning gold itself...until he realized his reality was changing forever. The sky hardened, the world around him hardened that same golden yellow!

He realized...he was now inside.

He was not the master of the grail, he is now its contents.