The Museum (standard:mystery, 3121 words)
Author: Hulsey	Added: Nov 14 2003	Views/Reads: 4289/2410	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
An aging curator's obsession with an Egyptian fertility necklace.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


"Why the long face, Ben? Come on, you can tell me.” 

Ben sipped his coffee and nibbled on a custard cream before answering.
He avoided eye contact with the senior curator. "It's my wife, Tricia. 
Well, actually it's both of us." 

"You're married?" 

"Yes, two years now." 

"Good grief, you've only just left school, son." 

"I'm twenty, Mr Graves." 

"Please, call me Charlie... So what about you and your wife?" 

"We've been trying for a baby for two years now, but nothing... We went
for tests at the clinic and it happens that Tricia is unable to have 
children." 

"Oh, I am sorry, Ben." 

Ben at last looked up at Charlie. "Do you have children, Mr... Charlie?"


"Good heavens no... I was never married... By choice, you understand...
The museum is my wife and family," he said, his eyes welling up with 
tears. 

"You really do love your work don't you?" 

"Yes I do, Ben, but I fear my time here is running out." 

"No way, Charlie! Why do you say that?" 

"Oh, just rumours... I hear you're to take my place." 

"Me? You've got it all wrong, Charlie... Mr Mowbray told me that I was
being schooled to take over from you, but in five years time." 

"Really?" 

"Yes... I went in to ask for a rise, as I'm only on a job creation
scheme that pays buttons... He refused to take me on permanently, but 
promised me your job when you retire in five years time." 

Charlie searched the innocent face of his trainee, seeking out
clarification that he was indeed lying. "You'll make a fine curator, 
Ben." 

"Thank you... I'm sorry I've been a bit distant today, but it's what you
told me about the fertility necklace." 

"Oh my, I'm so sorry... I didn't know. How insensitive of me.” "I know
you didn't know, Charlie. Forget it. Time to get back to work, eh?" 

That night, Charlie tossed and turned in his bed; sleep an evasive
luxury. His heavy conscience was divided between his fondness for the 
boy and his career. He left his bed and tiptoed downstairs, feeling 
Isis his Persian cat rubbing itself against his legs. "Come on Isis old 
girl... A saucer of milk, eh?" 

Charlie switched on the light of his lounge, and gazed at the numerous
photographs and cuttings of the Egyptian necklace that covered the 
entire wall above his fireplace. He stooped down to stroke his cat, his 
mind confused by the evil thoughts that were trespassing. He 
straightened up and touched the glossy photograph of the fertility 
necklace, craving for the real thing. To be so close to his beloved 
treasure and to not be able to touch it was gnawing at his innards, a 
torture so cruel, that it was affecting his sanity. 

He smiled at his thirsty cat as it lapped away at the cooling milk.
"Tomorrow Isis, tomorrow." 

Being a fine sunny day, Charlie had persuaded Ben to accompany him to
the nearby park for lunch. Actually, the pleasant climate had no 
bearing on the old man's decision. The wide-open spaces would guarantee 
privacy away from the eavesdropping staff of the museum. Charlie had 
especially prepared a double ration of sandwiches in anticipation of 
Ben's agreement. They selected an isolated spot by the lake and settled 
on the bench. 

"I hope you like salmon and cucumber, Ben?" 

"They're fine, Charlie." The youngster felt uncomfortable, feeling the
eyes of Charlie scrutinising him. He awaited the pass that would surely 
come, unsure of how he would react. To strike the old man was an 
option, but one that he would not enjoy. 

Charlie opened up. "Ben, you may find me presumptuous, so stop me at any
time you feel necessary." 

"Mr Graves, I'm a happily married man." 

"What? Good heavens no... What is the world coming to?" chuckled
Charlie.. "To put your mind at ease Ben, I'm a sixty year old virgin 
with no sexual tendencies, and I wish to remain that way." 

Ben breathed a little easier after the admission and watched the
approaching ducks, before biting into his sandwich. "So why have you 
invited me here?" 

Charlie shuffled forward, tossing the remains of his sandwich to the
hungry ducks. "It's what you said about you and your wife." 

"My wife?" 

"Yes you know... About her not being able to have children." 

"Please ,Charlie, I'd rather not talk about it." 

"I understand, but please hear me out first... What if the Egyptian
fertility necklace was made available to you?" 

Ben spluttered, spitting out several crumbs of his sandwich. "Are you
serious?" 

"Do I ever joke?" 

"Charlie, even if I did believe in this mumbo jumbo about the necklace,
you seem to be forgetting one small point. The alarm system." 

Charlie smiled and rubbed his hands together. "There's major
refurbishment going on at the museum as you know, and the alarm is 
turned off often. I've been entrusted with the keys to the alarm system 
because of this. So you see, I could, being absent minded forget to 
turn the system on for an hour or two." 

"You've been entrusted with the keys to the alarm system? echoed Ben." 

"Only the lower gallery of course... It's imperative that you speak of
this to nobody.” 

Ben ruffled his thick mane of hair and pondered. "You have it all
figured out don't you?" 

"You'd be doing me a favour, Ben." 

"I would? How?" 

"As you know, I worship that piece of jewellery, and to actually put it
into use would hearten me so much." 

"I don't know... What if we're caught?" 

"Listen to me Ben. I'll give you the spare key to the museum and you
arrive specially early tomorrow morning... Should we say seven 
'o'clock? I'll leave the alarm system deactivated, and you'll have time 
to slip home and do what you must." 

"You'll not be there?" 

"No, Ben, I don't think my old ticker will be able to stand the
excitement... I'll arrive at the museum some time before you're due, 
and turn off the alarm, before returning home." 

"What do I do exactly?" quizzed Ben. 

"You've been married two years and you don't know?" 

"No... I mean what do I do with the necklace?" 

"Slip it over your wife's head of course before... you know." 

"And you trust me to return the necklace?" 

"Of course... So what do you say, Ben? No harm will be done, and you'll
have a litter of children in time for next spring." 

"I'll have to think about it Charlie... I'll have to discuss it with my
wife." 

Charlie left the bench and turned to face the sceptical boy. "That would
not be wise... I'll leave the alarm system off in the morning, 
regardless of your decision. I'll make myself scarce, so don't look for 
me... Return the necklace to me by eight fifteen and I'll replace it in 
the case, and nobody will be any the wiser." 

"Like I said, Charlie, I'll have to discuss it with my wife." "That will
not be possible... I'm taking an enormous risk for you, Ben... The 
fewer people that know about our arrangement, the better." 

"What about the closed circuit cameras?" 

Charlie wiggled the keys in his fingers and smiled. "I have the master
key Ben... Come, we're late." 

The burning sun and the absence of a breeze was not the reason for
Charlie's excessive perspiring. He walked to the museum the long way 
that morning, taking in the tranquillity of the park. He checked his 
pocket watch to see that it was eight fifty. 

Charlie approached the museum, expecting to see police cars, but
everything looked in order. Could the police have possibly reacted so 
fast? Ben, by now would surely be in police custody, thus safeguarding 
his job as curator for another five years. 

Charlie dabbed his glistening forehead with his handkerchief before
mounting the steps. 

"You're late, Charlie." 

The surprised curator turned to be confronted by Ben, whose face
displayed joy. 

Charlie walked backwards slowly, expecting a blow to be delivered from
the youngster. 

"What's up, Charlie? You look like shit." 

"Th... Th... The necklace?" 

"Oh, I returned it, Charlie... When you never turned up, I thought it
best to return it myself... Here is the key." 

Charlie pondered. The scheme had backfired, but how? The foolish boy was
to have set off the alarm and should have been caught red-handed. The 
keys to the museum were to have been reported stolen. 

Charlie fumbled with the lock and had to be helped by his young
assistant. 

"My Charlie, you are nervous... Don't worry; I put the necklace back
exactly how I left it." 

Throughout the day, Charlie was troubled greatly, his addled mind in
conflict with his guilty conscience. How could Ben have removed the 
necklace without the alarm going off? Why had he not been detected by 
the closed circuit cameras? The boy was playing games with him, that's 
it. No way could he have removed the necklace from the case. 

Charlie picked at his sandwich, his appetite lacking. 

"A penny for them, Charlie." 

"Mr Mowbray! What are you doing here?" 

The tall, thin man frowned. "I'm the manager, Charlie, and I do use this
canteen now and again." 

"Yes I know but..." 

"Is something-wrong, Charlie?" 

"Wrong? No, should there be?" 

"You look a little tense... You have some holiday time due. Maybe it
would..." 

"No!" Charlie composed himself. "No Mr Mowbray, I'm willing to forsake
my holiday leave if you don't mind?" 

"Strange decision, but it's your prerogative, I suppose... How is young
Ben coping?” 

"Ben? Oh, he's a bit slow, but he's trying... Actually, I was..." 

Mr Mowbray interrupted. "Just as long as he's capable of taking over
from you when you hang your guns up, Charlie, eh?" 

"And when will that be, Mr Mowbray?” 

The manager looked at the flustered old man curiously. "Why, in five
years time of course... Most men in your position would be looking 
forward to their retirement, but I somehow don't think that is the case 
with you, Charlie." 

"Would it be possible to be taken on part time after I retire, Mr
Mowbray? 

"The manager, who was now standing, looked past Charlie. “ I'll catch
you later, Charlie." 

"Wait!" shouted Charlie. 

Mr Mowbray sat down once more. "Just what is the problem, Charlie?" 

"Mr Mowbray... I'm worried about the alarm system." 

The manager frowned. "The alarm system?" 

"Yes, Mr Mowbray... We have such valuable treasures on display, and I
think it ought to be checked." 

"Charlie, Charlie. The system is maintained every three months as well
you know... What brought on this sudden spate of concern?" 

"I just think that the system ought to be tested, Mr Mowbray." 

"And it will dear boy, in August... There really is nothing to worry
about, Charlie." 

"The alarm is never turned off?" quizzed Charlie. 

"My word, of course not." 

"Not even with the extensive refurbishment-taking place." 

"No, why should we ever turn off the alarm?.. I really must dash. Catch
you later." 

Charlie's eyes focused on two male members of staff who were laughing
loudly. He was certain the joke was at his expense. He was being 
deceived by them all, Mr Mowbray included, he was certain of it. To 
live without being close to his beloved Ankh necklace would be 
unbearable. 

For three weeks now, Charlie had been tormented by the inadequacy of the
flawed alarm system. Paranoia about losing his job also contributed to 
his present state of mind. Everywhere he looked, he could see the 
museum staff whispering and laughing at his predicament. He had even 
taken to hiding whenever Mr Mowbray appeared, fearing that he would be 
bearing bad news concerning his early retirement. 

Charlie stood inches from the glass case, his craving for the precious
necklace overpowering him. He reached out, his wrinkled hand so close 
to the treasure, but yet so far. Tears streamed down the face of the 
tormented curator, his uncertainty gnawing at his heartstrings. 

"Charlie, here you are." 

The old man closed his eyes, cursing the interruption. He turned to face
Ben. "What is it, Ben?" 

The younger man pointed to his wristwatch. "Lunchtime, Charlie, and this
time it's my turn to treat you." 

"What?" 

"Come on. I have a surprise for you." 

Charlie reluctantly left the museum and accompanied Ben to the park. The
pleasant climate and the playing children did not evoke joy within the 
curator. Ben ushered Charlie towards the bench, which was occupied by a 
petite, blonde girl, who was cradling a picnic basket. 

"Charlie, I want you to meet my wife Tricia... Trish, this is the man I
was telling you about." 

The pretty girl smiled broadly, displaying her perfect teeth. She
shuffled along the bench, inviting the two men to join her. "Mr Graves, 
I want to thank you for everything you've done for us." 

"I've done? I don't understand. What exactly have I done?" 

"She's pregnant, Charlie,” beamed Ben. “Tricia's pregnant." 

"Good god!" Charlie's face was as white as marble; the rage building up
inside him. His scheme had seriously backfired. How dare these 
unbelievers violate his cherished necklace? "This cannot be!" 

Tricia squinted and regarded the kind old man. "It's true, Mr Graves. I
took one of those home pregnancy tests, and the doctor confirmed it." 

Charlie sprang to his feet. "No! The alarm would have gone off." Ben
placed his hand on his mentor's shoulder. "You don't know what you're 
saying, Charlie. You turned off the alarm and the cameras remember... 
Are you okay, Charlie?" 

The old man trembled. "Please tell me it isn't true? Please, I have to
know if you tarnished the sanctified Ankh." 

"Whatever has come over you Charlie... Tricia wore the necklace and
she's now pregnant... Isn't that what you wanted?" 

"Noooo!" Charlie covered his ears, turned and ran lethargically across
the green expanse of the park, unaffected by the children that he was 
knocking to the ground. His weary legs belied their age, and he took 
the museum steps two at a time, his sweat-drenched body fuelled by 
adrenalin. 

Charlie ignored the curious stares that were directed towards him by
staff and paying customers alike. He entered the antiquity chamber, 
wheezing and clutching at his chest, the pain negated by his obsession. 


The security man focused on Charlie, who was barging his way through the
spectators that were viewing the Ankh. His Ankh. He stepped over the 
rope and wept, his lips trembling, his bladder heavy with excitement. 

"Charlie!" came the cry from Mr Mowbray, who had been contacted by the
security man. "What is the meaning of this?" 

Charlie either never heard or chose to ignore him. He reached out with
shaking hands and lifted the heavy glass cover. The alarm was 
deafening, the customers vying for a prime spot from which to view the 
theft. Charlie, with one hand, removed the necklace from the purple 
cushion, the other still clutching at his chest. He fell to his knees, 
brought the Ankh to his wavering lips, and  kissed the revered 
treasure. 

The security man closed in, but was restrained by the hand of Mr
Mowbray. 

Charlie lolled to the ground; his eyes fixed on the necklace that was
welded to his outstretched hand. He lay still in the pool of urine, his 
dying eyes not deviating from the love of his life. 

"Call a bloody ambulance!" screamed Mr Mowbray above the din of the
alarm. He knelt by the prone body of Charlie. 

Standing towards the rear of the crowd, was a young man who was wearing
the red uniform of the curator. He was standing on his tiptoes, smiling 
and considering his bright future; his conscience clear. Old Charlie 
did not have long in this world anyway; and the pay rise would more 
than compensate for his barren wife. 


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