My Father's Book

My father has a book, he says it tells him how his story ends.

I watch my father walk to the door and glance around the store, making sure there’s nothing for him to fuss about before he leaves.

“Make sure you remember to cover the crystal ball if it gets too sunny in here.”

“Of course dad, I know how powerful the curse of the crystal ball is,” I wiggle my fingers at him and smile.

“More like our insurance doesn’t cover the fire it could start.”

He can’t help but check himself in the ‘haunted’ mirror by the door. He carefully puts a few disobedient hairs into place, and turns to look at me.

“Alright, I’m heading out of town to pick up a few items, you all good here?”

“Yes sir, emergency phone numbers, and emergency knife” I hold up a piece of paper and a switchblade my father gave me. Only he would think someone might rob an occult antique store.

“That’s my boy.” he gives me a thumbs up. “I’m picking up some wooden dolls. Should be a hit with kids who want splinters for Christmas. I’ll be back around 3.”

I click my heels together and playfully salute him. “Godspeed, father.”

The bell on the door rings, and I am alone. It’s 9:15. Great, I’ve got to figure out what to do for the next 6 hours. I pull out my phone and play some old arcade games.

Almost two hours pass before the little bell rings again. Its one of our few regulars, a middle-aged man with a soft build and dark hair.

“Hey Ted, on your lunch break?”

“Yeah, your father here?”

“No, but I got you. What are you looking at?”

Ted gestures to a stack of cards. I slowly walk over to them, buying myself time as I try to remember the story dad came up with for them. I make out a little mask on the back of the cards.

“Ah, you’re looking at Mourning Marley’s deck.”

“Marley?” Ted asks with a little excitement in his voice.

“That’s right, Mourning Marley. He was an old aristocrat who lost his wife to disease, and the loss was unbearable. Marley needed to speak to his wife again, so with the help of a witch he crafted these cards. The deck of cards held the spirit of his late wife, and whatever card was at the top expressed what she felt or desired.” As I finish my story, I reach for the deck and dramatically reveal the top card. There is only one word on it, Love.

“That's so sad,” Ted pauses in thought. “How much are they?”

“Well, these are one of a kind, but you are my favorite costumer so for you these are only 500.”

“Deal”

I walk Ted to the counter and finish the transaction. He tells me about the ghost he saw in his apartment. As the door closes behind him, I can’t help but smile to myself. My performance was amazing, but placing the love card on top of the deck was genius. I can’t wait to tell dad about it.

An hour passes before the bell rings again. I look up and see a man standing quietly by the door. He’s covered in mud and is clutching something to his side. I slowly reach for my knife, trying to remember what dad said to do if we ever get robbed. But then i see his face.

I run to help him and am greeted by the smell of rotten meat.

“Dad, what happened?”

He turns and grabs me by the shoulders. I didn’t notice it before, but he’s smiling.

“You don’t need to worry, son,” he says in almost a whisper, “you never have to worry again.”

He slowly lets go of me and walks upstairs to the apartment.

“Stay with the shop, son” he says as he disappears up the stairs

My mind races as I stand in place thinking about what just happened, but one thought in my mind is much louder than any of the others.

“What was he holding?”

I spend the rest of the day watching the stairs. Dad never comes down, and I can only make out the sound of him watching something on TV. Finally, 5 o’clock. Normally I would head out and hang with my friends, but nothing they’re doing could be half as interesting as what is going on upstairs. I try not to seem too eager as I go to check on my father. I turn into the empty living room. He must be in bed. I cross the hall and realize the sounds I was hearing were never coming from the TV. How could there be people in his room, I’ve been downstairs all day.

I open the door and the voices stop.

“Come in, son”

I study his face, looking for hints of the dirty man who came into the store just a few hours ago, but there are none. I walk over and sit with him at his desk. In his hand is a black notebook, his palm rests on top.

“That was some entrance dad, I take it the dolls weren’t any good?” I get a small chuckle out of him.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

His tone is serious, and his eyes seem puffy as if he were crying. “I found something amazing today.” He rubs his hands along the book. “There’s no simple way to say this son, but this book is magic.”

“Hah!” the joke takes me by surprise and I can’t help but laugh “Wow! You really had me there, I gotta-“

We lock eyes and Dad isn’t laughing, not even smiling. Why does he look so serious?

“It’s been a long day son, maybe we should both get some rest,” he leans over and pats my head. “I love you, see you in the morning.”

Sleep is impossible. He can’t honestly believe in magic; the man scams people who believe this stuff. I try to find any logical explanation for what he said, for the look on his face, but there is only one. He believes it. Dad believes the book is magic. I have to see the book.

I wake up to the smell of eggs. Normally I wouldn’t have to work at the shop today, but I need to talk to him about the book.

“Morning old man”

“Morning son” He places the eggs on the table and I notice the rest of the food, French toast, bacon, hash browns and some grapefruit.

“Wow, this is a lot!”

“You woke up just in time. Sit down.”

The food is delicious. We swap jokes as we eat and watch the news.

“Okay, watch, he’s going to knock that lady over” Dad points at the TV.

A news anchor is standing in a hospital. He raises his arm in some sort of gesture, but cannot see the nurse behind him. He smacks her right across the face and she goes down hard.

“Is this a recording?” I ask while laughing.

“Nope, its live,” he smirks like he’s waiting for something. “So you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.”

He pushes his plate aside and slams the notebook on the table. He locks eyes with me, glaring with determination. “The book tells the future.”

I say nothing.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I’m prepared.”

I lean back in my chair and let out a sigh. “Go for it”

I spend 30 minutes sketching random shapes and pulling cards from decks. Without looking at anything other than the notebook, dad guesses every single one correct.

“How is this possible?”

“I spent several hours testing it yesterday. It has the future written into it. If we do what it says, the outcome written is guaranteed, if we don’t, then it rewrites itself!” His face is full of excitement. “You want to know the best part? I think you’re going to like it too, but I can’t tell you. Book says so. Are you up for helping me?”

I take a moment to look at him. I really want to see this book for myself. But he’s so confident and happy, I can wait to look at it. “Okay, I’m in. What do we need?”

I take a few hours to get all the stuff on dad’s list. I put the bags down and open the door to the shop. Ted is at the counter talking to him.

“Oh great, you’ve got the stuff! Set it down and then do the thing.” He winks.

“Yes, sir!” I give my usual salute and head to the backroom to find the safe in the corner. Twenty thousand dollars, our emergency funds. I should probably be concerned that a notebook told my father to grab all of his savings, but my curiosity must be satisfied. I place the money in my backpack.

The next few steps are weird, but the book demands it. I must watch tv upstairs for an hour. An odd request, but definitely one I can follow. I sit on the couch and look at the TV. I’m sure it’s fine if I play games on my phone instead. I reach in my pocket for my phone. Damn. I left it next to the safe. “I’ll grab the phone, come back up and restart the hour, it will be fine.” I walk downstairs to see the door is locked and the windows are all shut. Where’s dad?

I turn to look behind the counter but slip on the wet floor and fall with a loud thud.

“Ha, just like that nurse.”

As I turn to get up, I see a familiar face looking up from the floor at me.Its Ted, but he’s never looked like this. His mouth is hanging open and his eyes are- I look down at my hands. My palms are crimson and wet. My heart is racing as I jump to my feet.

“You weren’t supposed to see this part son.” My father is standing in front of the backroom. He holds the book in one hand and a hammer in the other. His eyes are quiet and resolved. “You changed the end of the book.”

He walks toward me. I know I should run, but it takes everything I have to even stay standing as I watch him step over Ted’s corpse.

“Why did you do this?”

The voices I heard in dad’s room answer me, but I can’t understand them. Fear bubbles in my throat. Is this the same man who made me breakfast this morning?

“Fix the ending.” I feel a rush of pain on the side of my head and drop to the floor. I look up to see my father towering over me.

“Dad, please.” My words are slow, head is pounding. He tosses the hammer and kneels on top of me.

“Fix the ending” his hands find their way to my throat and the pressure builds. “Fix the ending.” Can’t breathe. “Fix the ending” I reach in my pocket. “Fix the ending” I jam my knife into his throat. He stops talking.

I get my breath back first, then the ability to think. I look to my left and see my father. His empty eyes stare back at me and I start to cry. What did I do? What do I do now? If only I knew what to do. Then I hear the voices. The book sits on the floor, untouched by the blood of its previous owner. It can help. It has to. I reach for it and the voices get louder. I flip to the last page and read it. A wave of calm fills my entire body, and my thoughts are clear.

Dad was right, I like the ending.