The Hug

The sign above the door read, “A HUG FROM THE ART WORLD.” I found the gesture both welcoming and unusually strange at the same time. Who doesn’t enjoy the occasional hug from time to time, especially if the day has been particularly frustrating, like the one I’m having today. True, mechanical things break down, schedules get upended, and coworkers can let you down, but do they all have to happen on the same day? Yes, I could use a hug.

It was a combination of all those forementioned events that placed me at the bottom of the stairway leading to the art store. First thing this morning, my phone rang right after I had pulled out of the driveway. Mary called to let me know that the big appointment with a major client was just rescheduled for next week. It was disappointing, but that’s business. So as not to let the day become a total waste, I decided to make a few cold calls and hopefully find a new customer or two before going to the office.

It wasn’t a bad plan, but I needed a functioning car for it to be put into motion. Unfortunately, my car didn’t care about my plans. Red and yellow warning lights began flashing on the dashboard, and the engine began sputtering. Luckily, the car stopped running in front of a repair shop. I wasn’t familiar with this part of town or the shop, but as they say, any port in a storm. The mechanic was cordial enough, but very busy, and told me it would be late in the day before he could get to my car. Once again, my plan crumbled to dust. I called the office to report in, only to have my call answered by the machine. That’s when I remembered Mary was leaving early to start her vacation.

Of course, I could have called a Lyft to take me to the office, but I decided to explore this neighborhood instead. Now you know how I ended up standing by the bottom of this stairway reading the hug sign. Initially, the sign caught my attention, but it was the shadowy figure in the doorway that sucked me in. The only thing distinctive about the mysterious figure was that it was the silhouette of a woman. There were no discernible facial features, hair color, or other identifying characteristics. Part of my brain insisted I go investigate this shadowy apparition, another part demanded I keep on walking. Given the type of day I was having, I should have listened to the cautious part of my mind, but of course, that didn’t happen.

With newfound determination, I seized the metal handrail and strode up the stone steps, projecting a much more confident demeanor than I actually felt. My bold move alone should earn me a hug. The shadowy apparition had departed by the time I reached the doorway, and in her place was a painting of reddish-orange interconnecting blood cells. That may not be what the artist meant them to be, but that’s how they appeared to me. Just as I stepped all the way in for a closer look, I felt a cool breeze blow across my back, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut behind me.

The room went from bright sunshine to being bathed in an eerie red glow. The hair on the back of my neck rose to attention, and my breathing became shallow. I turned toward the closed door I had entered moments ago when a sultry female voice broke through the strange light.

“Leaving without your hug? That would be rude, don’t you think?”

Sweat poured out of my body, drenching my clothes. I had no verbal reply, just a faint shake of the head. The shadow materialized into the image of a partially clothed female statue with glowing eyes and a sinister smile.

“My name is Artis, and I’ve been instructed to give you a hug. I hope you’ll find it as pleasurable as I do.”

It was impossible for me to answer as all the air was being squeezed from my lungs.