Succubus continued

 

Succubus continued

Then he remembered Elaine, the girl he knew from the bookshop around the corner. Elaine was a little younger than him and worked days there. He knew her name was Elaine because it was typed on her badge attached to her collar. She was a pleasant sort, a bit mousey for his taste, but then again, he was a bit mousey for a man.  On Monday, he decided, he would go in and ask her out.

Two days later he was standing in the rain, shielded by his umbrella with the Monet print on it, in front of the book shop, peering in the window. He could see Elaine towards the back of the shop shelving some books. He looked at his watch.  Ten to one. He had ten minutes before he had to be back at the office.

The bell on the bookshop tinkled as he entered. Gerrard, the other guy who worked in the place was behind the till.  Harold wondered whether Gerrard and Elaine might be a couple. Then this would all not only be moot it might be embarrassing. Still, as he browsed the new book section, he glanced sideways at Elaine and was pleased to observe that she wasn’t nearly as mousey as he had thought. The light must be better back there he surmised.

He grabbed a book off the rack and carried it to the back of the store.

“Hi, Elaine,” he said, coming up behind her.

“Oh, hi Harold.  How’s it going?” she smiled down off the small step stool she was standing on.

“Oh, not bad thanks. How’s it going here?”

“Mondays are always slow,” she said. “but that’s okay, it gives me time to do a bit of reading myself. Can I help you with something?”

Harold glanced down at the book he had snatched up. He hadn’t even looked at the title. It was by some writer named Louis de Frank. “Songs of the Succubus” was the title.

“Um, think this is any good?” he managed to get out timidly.

“Oh, it’s fantastic! De Frank is the real deal.  Are you into that sort of thing?”

“That sort of thing?”

“You know, the occult. We have a great section on it over by that mandrake plant in the corner.”

“Yeah, sure, the occult, yeah sure. I didn’t know you had a section on that.”

“Yes, in fact I curate that section myself. Being somewhat well-read in that area.

“Really. The occult? I wouldn’t have thought you were the type.” Harold said and immediately regretted it.

“The type?”

“Say, I was wondering…”

“Hey, you know what?” Elaine said, quickly. “De Frank is going to be signing some books at our club meeting tonight. Would you like to come along. Strangers are welcome.”

“Well, um sure. What kind of club is it?”

“You’ll see. We meet in the old Masonic Temple Hall on Gerrard. Do you know it?”

“Sure. What time?”

“It’s a late start, I’m afraid. Around ten o’clock.”

“Okay. I don’t have to work tomorrow anyway.”

“Great. See you then.”

“Okay, goodbye.”

“Bye”

Ten o’clock, Harold thought as he left the shop. He had lied about not having to work the next day, but hey, it was a chance. And the more he thought about Elaine, the more he was excited about the prospect of meeting up with her. He made his way back to the office on a cloud.

Later that evening, Harold found himself outside the Masonic Temple. He tried the front door only to find it locked. He checked his watch. Twenty past ten. Then he spotted a sign on a post that read ‘De Frank signing around back.’

Harold walked around the massive stone building and eventually found a door at the bottom of some worn stone steps. He could hear voices inside, and now he was getting nervous. He clutched his copy of De Frank’s book tightly in his hands as he descended the steps and opened the door to find himself in a small inner room, the walls of which had been painted black and festooned with candles of various types, all burning brightly. There was an odour in the air he couldn’t quite place but he seemed to remember it from somewhere in his childhood. Church, maybe?

He walked over to the inner door and opened it and stepped into a large hall with perhaps two dozen people in it, mostly women, holding glasses of wine and talking in small groups. At a table to one side sat a man who Harold guessed must be De Frank, surrounded by some books. He was happily signing one for a fan who hovered close by him.  It was Elaine.

As he came in, Elaine looked up with a smile and waved him over.  Harold approached the table.

“Good evening,” he said quietly.

“Hi Harold. I’m so glad you came. Louis this is Harold.”

“Oh, hello Harold,” said De Frank looking up and extending a white-gloved hand. “So pleased to meet you.”

“Um, thanks,” Harold said, awkwardly. There was a brief uncertain pause.

“Is that a copy of my book you have there? Would you like me to sign it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harold said, handing over the book. “That would be great.”

“What did you think of it?”

“Oh,” said Harold. “I haven’t had a chance to read it yet. I just bought it today.”

“Well, be sure to let me know. My email address is on the inside cover.”

“Sure thing.”

“Come on,” said Elaine. Let’s get a glass of wine.”

Harold quickly accepted the offer and moments later they were standing by a small cooler pouring chilled red wine into large glass goblets. Chilled red, he thought. That’s weird.

“Cheers,” said Elaine.

“Cheers,” Harold replied. He sipped at his glass and was astounded to watch Elaine drain the entire glass in one long swig. That must have been a quarter of a litre, Harold thought. Wow.

“What exactly is this club about?” Harold asked.

“Well, it’s sort of a social club for people interested in the occult.”

“Really. What sort of things do you do in the club?”

“Oh, lots of things. We discuss books on the matter, try out recipes, that sort of thing. Anything really, as long as it has some connection to the other world.”

“The other world?”

Elaine laughed and began to fill her glass again.

“Oh look, there’s Samantha. You’ll like her. Let’s go see her…”

Elaine took Harold’s hand, and they headed over to a group of three women, talking under a large painting of what looked like a medieval prince sitting on a throne amongst a mass of swarming cats. All the cats were black.

“That’s quite the picture,” said Harold. “Who is that?”

“Oh, he’s sort of the founder of our club. Although he’s never actually attended any meetings.”

“Really? How come?”

“Well, he died three hundred years ago.”

The rest of the evening was a blur. Harold had a lot of wine and once he felt the room begin to rotate, he looked around to find Elaine and say good night. He spotted her standing by the doorway with De Frank. They were both looking at him while talking to each other. As Harold began to walk over to them, De Frank leaned into Elaine and whispered something to her.  They both broke out into a quiet laugh.

Harold said his good-nights and left happily because as he was going out the door, Elaine took his arm and said, “I’m so glad you came tonight, Harold. Everyone thinks you’re great.”

“They do?” Harold said, amazed.

“Indeed.” Elaine moved closer to him. He could feel her body touching his as she whispered. “See you again soon, right?”

“That would be great, said Harold.

He hailed a cab and soon arrived back at his apartment. What a strange night it had been. He felt warm and giddy and decided to go straight to bed. He had trouble falling asleep but finally he drifted off at about two-thirty. His dreams were strange and filled with unfamiliar images that weren’t exactly frightening but left him feeling anxious.

He awoke suddenly and glanced at the bedside clock. He could just make out that it was only three a.m. He’d only been asleep for half an hour! His vision was blurry, and his head hurt. Then he became aware of a sound coming from above him. He reached for his glasses and put them on and looked up. Then he let out a small shout when he saw Elaine, hovering horizontally about four feet over his bed. She had a diaphanous black gown on and was just floating there, semi-transparent in the moon light spilling through the bedroom window.

He must still be dreaming he thought. Way too much wine. He tried to say something, but Elaine put a finger to her ruby lips, and he found he couldn’t make a sound.

This was very strange, he thought. Elaine began to descend slowly. When she was hovering over the comforter by about six inches, the comforter slowly pulled itself back. Harold couldn’t move. Elaine smiled and Harold felt a warm sensation flow over his body. Then he was wrapped in other sensations that he’d never experienced before.

And Harold was never lonely again.