Treasure
A whole short story. This is earlier than my other work. Image Credit: iStock
No one is allowed to see Chaperon Place. For hundreds of acres, there is nothing but green forest and at the very center is the manor. The only way in and out of the property is one road called Brick Road, but it is really paved in asphalt. The road goes for over a mile before it reaches the circular drive at the entrance of the manor. At the mouth of Brick Road is a golden gate with sprawling patterns designed by an artist from Italy. Surrounding Chaperon Place is a brick wall that guards any onlookers from seeing the majesty that is the home of Elmer Bronsted.
Elmer Bronsted had bought the property formerly known as Burial Point and had his manor constructed over the course of a few years. Of course, he did own other properties, such as his mansion in Malibu and his estate in Florida, but Chaperon Place was to be his final resting spot. He named it after his mother’s maiden name, the same name from which he inherited much of his money. But she had married a wealthier man, from whom he had inherited another chunk of his money.
For the first two decades of his life, Elmer had blown the money on cars, drugs, and sex. For the next, he had spent it on investments and failed startups. But in his thirties and all the way to his sixties, he finally found his calling. Industry. Everything from oil to weapons, from destruction to philanthropy. He was at the top of the world and could never be happier. He was so happy that he would spend the final two decades living in peace in his various homes. He had more money than he could ever inherit. After all, he had worked for it.
Now, Elmer, old and weary, spends his time sitting in his red velvet chair staring at his dark wooden walls that are lined with trinkets and prizes. These had come from all around the world. The golden plate that is at the top of his fireplace mantle is from Ghana, where he had it made personally for him. The bejeweled rings on the shelf are from Russia. The monkey paw next to the rings is from India, but of course, it’s manufactured. Elmer originally enjoyed the joke of it, but now, the more he gazes upon the fake leather skin the more he finds it obscene.
One of his favorites is the elephant head, and the elephant gun accompanying below. It’s the centerpiece of the lounge, in between two tall windows with white drapes, mounted to the caramel colored European oak walls. It is placed far from the door so that it is one of the first things to see when entering. Below are the golden mantles that hold the elephant gun Elmer had used to bring down the beast. He makes sure to polish it every week, the wood and the silver. His chair is placed in the very middle of the room facing the head so he can always stare at his accomplishment.
Chaperon Place is quiet.
*
Three knocks sound at the door.
Elmer is sleeping in his red velvet chair. Between his fingers is a cigar. He is wearing his red velvet robe and boxers without a shirt. Five knocks hit the door. He awakes with start and drops the cigar on the floor. He quickly picks it up and stomps out the glowing embers. There should not be any knocks at the door.
Elmer approaches the taxidermy elephant head and gazes at its beauty. He then looks below and grasps the gun. Just as beautiful, he thinks. What a creation, a thing that could bring down the biggest of creatures. Now, he assumed, it would bring down an average size trespasser.
Six knocks crash against the door.
Elmer leaves the lounge and descends the grand staircase at the very center of the manor. It is carpeted with more red velvet. Just ahead are the large doors that block this knocker from entering. But before approaching the doors, he decides to grab a drink. So he makes a left at the bottom of the stairs and saunters to the back of the house.
Eight knocks.
At the back of the house is a long dining room with a wide window that peers out at the gardens. They are home to all kinds of birds that like to perch at the feeders and the flowing tiered fountain. To the left of the dining hall is another lounge, although this has more books and wine bottles (but the same amount of trinkets). To the right is the kitchen.
Ten knocks.
The old man places the gun on the island in the middle of the kitchen and reaches into the back of the fridge, where he keeps his orange juice. He tries to find a nice glass to drink out of, but the cabinet is high and most of his dishes are in the sink. So he grabs a wine glass off its rack and pours the juice into that.
A sudden, very hard knock startles him and some of the orange juice spills onto the counter. Elmer sighs and grabs a rag from off the handle of the stove. As he wipes, he thinks, God damn this bastard.
He grabs his glass in his right hand and picks the gun up from the island with his left.
Another hard knock echoes through the manor as he walks past the stairs and toward the doors.
Finally, a third, blasting knock hits the doors just before Elmer opens them wide and points the gun right in the trespasser’s face. Who he sees is an unstartled, unshaken, unperturbed man dressed in a beige suit with a maroon tie and pearl white shirt. He has a glowing, combed, plentiful head of blonde hair. He is wearing rose-tinted aviators and looks like he is about to knock again.
“How did you get here, you annoying bastard?”
The man gently smirks and steps to the side. Behind him is a white 1966 Toyota Corolla. “Car.”
“I mean, how did you get past the gate?”
“Your gatekeeper let me through.”
“Gatekeeper? I don’t have a God damn gatekeeper.”
“Then I guess a random lady opened it for me.”
Elmer spits on the floor and takes a sip of his orange juice. He places the glass down and puts two hands on the gun. He waves it in the man’s face. “Who are you?”
“Sorry, allow me to introduce myself. Levi Wolek,” he says, trying to shake Elmer’s hand while using his other to gently push the gun out of his face. Elmer does not shake his hand and does not move the gun away. “May I come inside?”
*
Levi sits at the western end of the dining table, the side closest to the second lounge. Elmer stands at the eastern end, still drinking his orange juice and pointing the elephant gun at the man’s face. “Your home is beautiful, especially those gardens” Levi says, trying to shift around in his seat to avoid the gaze of the gun but it is of no use. “I saw that the metalwork on your gate was designed by Gaetano Bellucci, I’m a big fan of his work. But the house itself seems more Parisian, to me. It has the same sense that waking into Versailles gives you. This sense of royalty, grandiose... beyond anybody else. Almost so beautiful that only those who can appreciate it should see it. Let me guess, it was the architect Jean Barbier that designed this manor.”
Elmer grunts.
“Yes, I thought so. His designs are of fashion. These gardens, however, there’s something off about them. They don’t seem to be dreamt up by any particular designer I know. You know what, I think it was-”
“My wife,” Elmer spits.
“Your wife. Agatha Bronsted.”
“Agatha Bitney, now.”
“Yes, Agatha Bitney. I remember the headlines when you married her.”
“Then I’m sure you remember the headlines when she left me.”
“Yes, I do. I’m very sorry.”
“Don’t be. If she didn’t love me, then, well...” he shrugs and takes a drink. “Then what’s the point of being sorry?”
“I agree, sir. She had an eye, though. An eye for decoration, an eye for nature, an eye for these birds. I’m assuming she decorated much of this house, correct?”
Elmer grunts.
“Even the lounges-”
“Before you talk my ear off... what the hell do you want?” he asks, raising the gun to him from across the table.
“Frankly, Mr. Bronsted, I want your eyes.”
Elmer chuckles. “Why are you actually here? To sell me some bullshit? To invest in your bullshit company?”
“Mr. Bronsted... I want your eyes.”
Elmer stops chuckling and puts the glass down on the table. He then puts both hands on the gun and aims at Levi.
“You see, Mr. Bronsted, I am a treasure hunter.”
“A God damn treasure hunter? Like, some kind of Indiana Jones?”
“No, no, no, sir. I’m afraid the movies make it look like a much more adventurous business. I’m afraid I’m not running around with a whip or a gun, I don’t find old ruins and steal old artifacts. No, it’s much more grounded than that. You see, Mr. Bronsted, I research all kinds of valuable items, trinkets, all kinds of wares from around the globe. And I’ve been around the globe. I go around the world and buy these valuable things off of these people so I can put them in my collection, maybe sell them off to an even higher bidder. The most adventurous part of my job may be wiping the dust off of artifacts we’ve just pulled out of the ground. But most of my job is meeting with the makers, speaking with the owners—most of whom live in mansions much like this one. I find the treasure, and I get the treasure. I’ve never failed at that.”
“So you want what with me?”
“I want your eyes. I’m sure there are treasures in this estate that are much more valuable than an organ, but this one is more of a personal project. You see, me and my partner—she does more of the inspection side of things—we want to see the world through your lens.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“We want to take your eyes and look through them to see how you see the world.”
Elmer chuckles and scoffs: “You’re insane.”
“I’m a treasure hunter, Elmer. And there’s something special about how you see the world.”
A grim realization flashes over his face. What had been an amusing activity has become a disturbing, violent plight. “I’ll shoot you,” he says through his teeth.
“There’s no reason to. I’m not going to harm you.”
“What?”
“The fact is, I’m not leaving without my treasure. But I’m also not going to forcibly take them from you. I’ve never had to harm anyone to get what I’ve wanted, and if I have harmed someone, it was to protect the treasure. I understand that giving up your eyes—”
“Shut up!”
“I understand that giving up your eyes would be detrimental to your health. And so to ensure the most pleasant process of acquisition, I’m giving you two options.”
“Two fucking options!” Elmer roars with a hearty, sarcastic laugh.
“Yes, two options.”
“You’re insane!”
“The first: you willingly remove your own eyes—”
“Go to hell, you stupid bastard!”
“And give them to me. Or, I wait here until you pass away—”
“Get the hell out of my house!”
“And when you pass away—”
“You sick bastard!”
“I take them from you.”
“That’s it, you psychopath!” Elmer storms across the room and plants the barrel of the gun against the unwavering Levi’s head.
Levi turns to face the man, staring down the barrel of his gun, his rose glasses obscuring his glare. “I’m not leaving without my treasure.”
Elmer cocks the rifle.
“Allow me to show you why this is important.”
“You’re a sick freak!”
Levi sighs. “And you’re a genius. You must be.”
“What?”
“You’re a genius, Elmer Bronsted. You have to be. Or none of this makes sense.”
Elmer stops. His fingers lift off the trigger of the gun. “Explain yourself.”
“I’d be pleased to. Can I grab my projector and tarp out of the car?”
Elmer gives a hearty, sarcastic laugh. “Fuck off.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“What’s stopping me from shooting you right now.”
“You’ve never killed a man before. Not yourself, anyway,” Levi smirks.
Elmer keeps the gun trained at the bridge of his nose, but his arms weaken. There is something whispering in his ear. A shiver creeps down his neck and all the way down his spine. It crawls inside and his heart skips a beat. He tries to find any reason to pull the trigger, but everything is telling him to put the gun aside. Every fiber of his body pulls his finger away from the trigger. In his conscious mind, he would like nothing better than to see Levi’s body crumpled on the floor. But he just can’t reach the trigger.
“Grab your damn projector.”
*
Elmer watches through the windows of the main lounge as Levi removes a large projector and a folded tarp out from the trunk of his car. This man is something evil, he thinks, but he can not entirely tell why. The man then comes back into the building and stumbles as he struggles to carry both the heavy projector and the tarp at the same time. He nearly shatters the flimsy machine as he reaches the top step.
He then finds his way to the main lounge, where he stops in the threshold to admire all the treasures inside. “What a lovely room.”
“Don’t get any ideas, treasure hunter.”
“Oh, no. I would never steal anything. Unless you’re willing to sell m-”
“You’re trying to take my eyes and you think I’d sell you something?”
“You’re right, probably a long shot.”
Levi scrambles around the room looking for outlets and a good place to set up his presentation. His machine is a carousel slide projector from the sixties. “I haven’t seen one of these in a long time.”
“It’s a treasure, too. Only a functional one,” Levi says, still looking for a place to set up. He decides the best place is just below the elephant’s head. And since the gun was in Elmer’s hands, he could hoist the tarp off of the golden mantels that held the firearm. “Alright.”
“Yes, tell me why you want to rip the eyes out of my skull,” Elmer says, still feeling a tingling on his nape.
“Please, remember, Mr. Bronsted. I won’t be doing any ripping.” Levi then presses the button on his clicker to flip the slides. The first thing that shows is the image of a ruined forest. It is a sprawling landscape of dirt and stumps. “In 1965, you launched your first big project. You remember what that was?”
“Enlighten me.”
“In the fine state of Colorado, you found Humphries Hills: prime real estate, a nice place in the woods with a beautiful view of the mountains. Now, here you come, a young man looking to make a name for himself and do something great. You see this place and you have the idea for...”
“Ah. Five Pines.”
“Yes, the resort named for the five massive pines nearby. But of course, resorts need room, and forests don’t have the most space available. So, naturally the trees have got to come down for the resort dream to come to life. And it does. Actually, this picture was taken a little bit after the acres were cleared and a little bit before construction started. And for eleven great years, Five Pines flourished.” As he speaks, he clicks through multiple pictures of Five Pines Resort. There are people playing tennis, people at the pools and bars, and people watching the sunset behind the mountains. “But you were young. No one can blame you for losing your father’s funding... it was just a small venture anyway. But after this, you got back on your feet and you marched forward.”
He clicks to the next set of pictures, a collection of small businesses Elmer had started when he was in his twenties. All had failed. There are pictures of Great Adventures, a party planning company; Brigandine, a fashion company; Taste of Italy, a restaurant. All of these had failed, but when he shows Taste of Italy, he displays a striking image of Elmer by a large fire in the kitchen. Elmer thinks but has no recollection of what they were cooking.
“Then comes your forties, and it’s time to get serious.” The next picture he shows is of a massive cargo ship labeled: The Gradulf, a German name, given to it by his father. For it is his father’s company: Trans-Atlantic Shipping Company. “You join your father’s company in the early ‘80s. Business is booming. You’re shipping oil, you’re making money, and it is coming in fast. With you in the company, it becomes so vast that you start working with the United States Military and the government. You start shipping to every part of the globe, and it’s not just oil anymore. You saved your father’s company. And when you have that much money, you can start to do even greater things. You found love... sorry. You made a family... you raised children, you bought homes. And once you got that settled, you entered the industry of philanthropy. You donated to the military, you gave money to towns ruined by natural disasters, you sent people to help clean up Trans-Atlantic Shipping oil spills in the Gulf of Mexico. But probably, one of the best things you did, is fund the building of the Bronsted Boys’ Home and Girls’ Home in Chicago. You even adopted a girl: Brooke Young.”
Elmer stops him for a moment and gazes at the picture he is showing. It is him standing in front of the Bronsted Girls’ Home holding his adopted daughter, Brooke. He leans over in his chair, just staring at her face. Levi notices this. “It’s a shame-”
“You shut up. Just...”
Without a notion to keep this up, Levi continues anyway. He slows down, entering the later, darker stages of his life. He passes over the divorce, the diaspora of his children around the world. He excludes their hatred for their father. Although, how could anyone know what happens behind closed doors. “Then, when it’s all said and done, you settle down here: a place named for your late mother.” The slideshow ends and Levi places the clicker on a stand. The silence lingers for a few moments, lasting centuries. “Now, why would I want your eyes?”
“I should shoot you right here for even saying any of this.”
“But you won’t. Because you are just as fascinated. Only someone who has seen through your eyes can support you, because you know that there is a whole world out there that wants your head on a pike. But if me and my partner can finally see what you see, then we can, without a doubt, take your side. We just need your perspective. Because if you aren’t some kind of genius that can see things we can’t... then all of this is for nothing.”
“All of what?”
“This... the world, the continent, the country, the state, the county, this manor, this conversation. None of what is happening and what will happen makes any sense if you do not have some kind of genius plan. Whether you know it or not. It can not be true.”
Elmer stays silent for a moment, and in doing so, he hears the same thing he has been hearing for years. He can not remember when it started, but he can always remember when he notices it. He noticed it when he was just a kid partying with friends, he noticed it when he bought Humphries Hills, when he started his company, when his wife left him, at Brooke’s funeral. It is so loud when he notices it that he can not help but look around blindly for the source. All he can hear is silence. A resounding silence. Larger than any whisper, than any windless day, than any ant’s footstep. It is so silent that he thinks he is deaf.
*
It has been weeks and Levi sleeps in his car outside in the circle of the driveway. Elmer peers out the window and sees the car. He has regretted his decision ever since he opened his mouth. It was not much of a decision, but an unwilling acceptance. Or he thinks it was unwilling and willed it anyway.
He has barred Levi from coming into the house, and ensures he does not hang around in the garden either. But Levi often comes to the door or, if the door is not answered, checks through the windows to be certain that the old man has not fallen dead. If Elmer dies and Levi does not know about it soon enough, the eyes may be too damaged before he can get the chance to extract them.
In the early morning, Levi sleeps inside his Corolla. His chair is leaning precariously far back over the back seats, which is littered with textbooks. Within his car, there are nearly twenty textbooks and regular educational novels loosely strewn about, pages ripped and folded to extremes after years of study. All of them are medical, some human biology, some medicine, some surgery. There are notes and tabs pointing out specific pages, pages that had anything to do with the eyes.
Levi wakes in his car and quickly exits, fully dressed in a suit and tie. He approaches the door, Elmer shifts away from the windows. Just as he is about to slam his fist against the wooden door, it swings open and Elmer stands before him.
“If I never answered and you never saw me through my windows, what would you do?”
“I would assume the worst.”
“And what if I was still alive?”
“Then I would politely exit... if you wanted me to.”
“But you would be breaking and entering.”
“It would not be the first time.”
“And if I called the cops?”
“Like I said: it would not be the first time. Nothing has ever stopped me from getting my treasure before, Mr. Bronsted. Nothing ever has and nothing ever will. Trust me, there is nothing you can do that will stop me.”
Elmer slams the door in his face. Levi, having given this talk before, is not surprised. They always react this way. Levi returns to his car and sits in the front seat, listening to the radio.
Elmer, flustered, confused, and frankly, trapped, returns to the lounge on the second floor. It seems that Levi is on all sides, closing in. His fingers twitch. When he looks down at them he sees he is sweating down his arm. Whenever he looks out at the car, his blood pumps a little faster. It is more than a frightful scare, but a creeping, rising pain in his heart. He knows a final, lethal sting is inevitable.
Levi had left his projector in the lounge and it has been collecting dust ever since. It is still showing the image that he had finished on: the picture of Chaperon Place in a strange framing. It looked as though the picture had been taken sometime during sunset, but also from the tree line, almost like some kind of stalker had taken it. Elmer is not entirely sure that Levi is not some kind of stalker. After all, he knows more about Elmer than Elmer knows about himself.
The projector is hideous, and Elmer does not want it in the house anymore, so he walks over to it and begins to tear it all down. He rips the tarp off the wall and casts it aside. Now, the projector is showing the warped image onto the elephant head. The tarp had been covering the gun mantle so the firearm is sitting in the corner of the room.
With the tarp on the floor, Elmer turns to the projector and tries to figure out the best way to lift it. After trying to bear-hug it, he slides it to the side of the table so he can tilt it up and grab it from the bottom and side. He pushes the projector close enough to the edge so that one side begins to lean down off the side. When he tries to catch it, however, it falls to the carpet floor.
Luckily, the machine did not completely fall apart, but the slide disk did dislodge and roll to the other end of the room. As it rolled, tons of pictures fell out onto the floor. Elmer sighs and bends down to one knee, picking up the debris. He finds all of the pictures, even ones that Levi did not get to in his presentation.
These pictures show a more in-depth look at what Elmer’s time in business. Some of them were milder, like him at meetings with foreign leaders or even domestic ones. Some of them he questions how they could have possibly been taken, like pictures of him at parties with dangerous and taboo people of all kinds. But the last are more damning: oil spills, shipments from Trans-Atlantic Shipping being delivered to warzones (to American soldiers, and they were most likely filled with weapons), some headshots of directors at the Boys’ and Girls’ homes, and him hunting in Africa. Elmer questions what any of these could be used for.
He doesn’t bother with picking up the slide disk and the projector. He instead leaves the lounge, giving one last glance at the elephant head on the wall. Then to the gun in the corner of the room. He goes to the bathroom in his bedroom, which he has not used in a long time. The bedroom is absurdly clean, neat and tidy. It is as clean as the day it was last used, except for the dust. The dust has built up immensely over the years. After the bedroom, he goes to the bathroom: just as clean, just as dusty.
He places the slides on the counter beside the sink and washes his face in the cold water. After wiping his face, he looks up into the mirror and sees himself. He sees his wrinkles. He sees his scars. He sees his completely white hair. He sees how his skin is just barely latching onto his bones. Everything looks like it is about to fall off and he will wither away. He looks down at the pictures and spits into the sink.
After leaving the bathroom, he goes to the nightstand at the side of the bed. The bed is covered in a red velvet blanket and wool sheets underneath. He lifts the frame, which is right next to a picture of him and Agatha, his ex-wife.
Inside the frame is a newspaper clipping from the 1970s. It was the first newspaper he was ever featured in. It is an amazing picture of him when he was young. He is standing on a boat next to his father and mother. Behind them is the city of New York and a glowing blue sky, grey in the picture. His hair is flowing in the wind, his skin is smooth, he has a full smile.
He places the frame down and knocks it over. He does the same to the honeymoon picture with Agatha.
*
Guy Smith leaned against a tree on the side of the road outside the walls of Chaperon Place as a car approached the gate. He smoked a cigarette and scratched an itch on his left arm near a tattoo. The tattoo was that of an organization called the Just World Front (JWF, for short). They are an organization dedicated to fighting injustices around the world, sometimes within and sometimes outside the bounds of the law.
Guy Smith is a dedicated member, and a good one at that. He had been entrusted to carry out some of the Front’s most vital missions. This included the largest mission they had ever enacted as of yet: the bombing of a pipeline going through Native American land. This act led to more of a focus on the organization from law enforcement, which is why he was standing outside Chaperon Place undertaking a more minor mission.
Guy Smith and a few more of his associates (who were camping in the woods, leaving no trace) had been sent to force Elmer Bronsted to dissolve his company and pay billions of dollars towards environmental and humanitarian groups. It is (and they are aware of this) a not very fledged out plan. For years, nobody had confirmed if Elmer Bronsted was even still alive. That is why, when Guy Smith saw Levi Wolek get buzzed through the grand gates into the grounds of Chaperon Place, they knew it was their time to strike.
For the next few weeks they would acquire everything they needed to break into Chaperon Place, to restrain Bronsted, and to maybe force compliance. They were, however, never going to harm him.
*
Levi sleeps inside his car. It is turned off, just a shadow in the darkness. He does not see three lights shift through the dark forest ahead of him. In fact, there are six lights he can not see, three more in the woods to the rear of the car. The activists can just barely see the silhouette of the treasure hunter from afar. They all move quietly around the fringes of the manor, gazing upon its disgusting glory for the first time. They realize they may be some of the first outsiders to ever lay eyes on it.
Two of them have rope.
One of them has documents to guilt Bronsted.
One of them has a false gun.
Guy Smith has brought nothing, because he knows that the only way to influence people is by talking to them.
One of them has brought a real gun (unbeknownst to the others), because he knows that the world is too far gone for flattery and niceties, and it must be saved with force.
They silently move around the outskirts of the house, their lights bobbing up and down in the darkness. Guy Smith is leading one group while the man with the gun leads the other group. They walk in symmetry across the lawns and eventually to the back of the house. At the back of the house, those with rope swing them over the wall and allow the others to climb over.
The activists land in the gardens of the house. Guy Smith bends down by the fountain and sees himself in the water. The others look around at the greenery. Guy Smith stands and rubs his fingers along some of the plants. It is dark, quiet, and peaceful, until three loud crashes echo throughout the woods. Behind him, the man with the gun throws a plant pot against the glass sliding door until it shatters. Glass scatters over the brick of the garden ground and the wood floors inside.
“What the hell are you doing?” Guy Smith asks. “We’re meant to go in quiet! He could be armed.”
“So are we. He needs to know that we’re coming for him.” Guy Smith does not understand what he means. He knows this man to be somewhat of a wildcard, after all, he had made the bomb that ruined the pipeline.
“You’re gonna wake the guy in the car.”
“Good, an audience.”
The man with the gun pushes through the glass and is the first to enter. Some of them follow closely after, while the rest enter cautiously. They give each other side glances of concern for their counterparts. Those that had entered first began tearing the place down. They remove trophies off the wall, they break glasses and vases, and express their anger in the most destructive ways.
Guy Smith and two others follow in their trail as they create a warpath. He can not blame them, for he understands fully their anger. But he also can not partake. They eventually make their way up to the second floor.
Their first stop is the bedroom, where they find nobody. All they notice are two toppled pictures. Guy Smith is the first to take a look at them. After seeing one is a picture with Bronsted’s wife and one is a picture with Bronsted’s family, he puts them both upright again. The man with the gun pushes both of them back down, cracking the glass of the newspaper clipping. Guy Smith looks back at the man, noticing bubbling, boiling water. It is almost at the crest.
They then go to the lounge, where they find a drunk Elmer Bronsted sitting in his chair, drool pooling on his chin. It is the worst thing any of them have ever seen. An obscene, grotesque image of an old, pathetic man sitting in boxers and a robe, letting himself wither away. He is surrounded by all of his conquests and spoils, layers of dust building over each other.
“Wake up, Elmer,” says Guy Smith flatly.
“Get... get out of here... Wolek.”
“Wake up, Elmer.”
“You... won’t... take... my... eyes.”
“Get water.”
The woman with the false gun goes to the bathroom, finds the enclosed plunger holder, removes the plunger, and fills the holder with sink water. She then returns to the lounge and pours the water on top of the billionaire.
Elmer awakes with a start. He falls to the ground out of his chair, and out of his lap falls a collection of pictures. Guy Smith bends down and picks them up. “Depressing, Elmer... these pictures.”
“Who the hell are you?!”
“We are the Just World Front.”
Elmer spits and sees the pictures on the ground.
“It’s not often you find a man regretting his terrorisms. Usually they boast them in public. But if they’re ashamed... they’ll put themselves in the darkest, sealed, depressing rooms.” Guy Smith takes a look around the room. “Shame isn’t enough, Elmer. You want to stop regretting? You have to take action. Wallowing doesn’t get us anywhere. Action does.” He turns to his people. “Let’s get started.”
The man and the woman with rope pick Elmer off the floor and put him back in the chair facing the elephant head and gun. They begin to tie down his arms to the chair. As they do so, Guy Smith says “we are not going to harm you, Elmer. We just want something out of you. Something vastly important.”
“If you say you want my eyes...”
The others look at each other with faces that say “the old man has gone insane.”
“No, Elmer. We want the complete dissolution of your company. We want your money put to something good. We want you to make up for the harm you’ve caused over your time as ruler of the world.”
Elmer doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t try. He doesn’t try to move either. It doesn’t look like any emotion flashes across his face. He is simply receiving.
Guy Smith flips through the pictures that the old man had been holding. He notices the emotional value of each one. He eventually picks a picture of a male director from a Boys’ Home.
“This man...” he takes a long look at the picture. “He hurt that little girl, didn’t he? What’s his name?”
Elmer glares at the picture. “I don’t remember.”
Guy Smith grunts. “You hired him directly, didn’t you? If I remember right, he was a good friend of yours.” He pulls another picture out of the stack. “This one too.”
“There are so many of them...” Elmer whispers. “Too many. All of them the same.”
“Do you want to be different, Elmer? Do you want help the little girls and boys that were hurt by these men? Do you want to end the slaughter of children in foreign lands? Their lives ended by your guns? Do you want to help children who drink your poison water?” he looks back at the picture. “Or do you want to remain the way you are? Sitting here. Alone. Drunk. Hideous.”
Seeing no reaction fall over Elmer’s face, the man with the gun readies himself.
“You know... we brought these blackmail documents, we brought a gun. I don’t think we need any of that. I see a little humanity in you.” He says, knowing full well there is hardly a spark. But he finds himself gazing into the billionaire’s eyes and a creeping feeling takes over his mind. There is something horribly wrong with them.
“Humanity!” the man with the gun scoffs. Guy Smith breaks his contact with Elmer and sees the man reach for something in his jacket. Immediately Guy Smith lunges at him and the two grapple. The other activists don’t know what to do. Guy Smith says something unintelligible, as does his opponent. Eventually, in the struggle, a loud bang echoes through the lounge. Guy Smith crumples to the ground, falling over himself. He lays against the chair where Elmer sits, holding his wound. As he bleeds out of his side, he breathes heavily. His heart is racing. His eyes blink swiftly. His hands tremble. With a final gasp, the light in his eyes fades.
All of the activists in the room remain silent. None of them know what to do. Elmer doesn’t move either, unwavering, unspeaking. Eventually, one of them falls to their knees and vomits on the ground. Then one turns to the man with the gun. They lock eyes for a moment, and he charges. He is stopped when the gun fires again and he topples over to the ground. There are only four of them left.
The woman who vomited gets off the ground and says “You’re a monster!”
“You’re standing next to one. The only way we can possibly win is if we force it out. You’re naive!”
They begin to take sides.
The man with the gun points it at Elmer, but his arm is pushed out of the way by the woman. Then they all crowd around each other, each one of them fighting against each other for reasons they don’t quite understand.
Elmer sits still, smelling the air of blood. Ahead of him is the elephant gun. The same weapon he used to bring down a beast. A quiet beast. One that drank from the river. One that mothered a child. Her head sits on the wall.
Eventually, there is only one conscious activist. They breathe heavy, having beat their old allies. Whatever their ideals were before entering the house, they now consider them worthless. They want to go home. Elmer looks over his shoulder and watches the activist leave through the door. He does not notice Levi enter through the other door, pick the elephant gun off the wall, and fire it at the activist. In an instant, Elmer sees his lounge painted in blood.
“How are your eyes, Mr. Bronsted? I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I heard the gunshots. It all happened so fast. Let me check you out. Did they hurt you? How are your eyes?”
He finds no damage to the eyes. He finds no damage at all. Elmer looks back, all he sees in Levi is fear. Fear and calm. Nothing else.
“Untie me.”
Levi quickly undoes the ropes and helps Elmer to his feet.
“Let’s get a drink.”
*
The two drink whiskey on the rocks in the lounge surrounded by bodies. There are no neighbors to call the police. There are no police to investigate. The two gaze at the elephant gun and the head above, the gun back on its mantle. The fact that he had been tied down to it does not dissuade Elmer from sitting back in his chair. Levi slowly drinks from the whiskey and has a blank stare on his face, but not a remorseful one. Elmer assumes that it was not his first time killing.
“I think you and I are the same person, Mr. Bronsted.”
“Why’s that?”
“We are both collectors of the same thing: treasures. I think that if I was not here under the pretenses that I will be taking your eyes, we would be great friends. We would be collectors together. All these trinkets we would share.”
“Maybe,” Elmer says, knowing that the two could be no more opposites. A fact that was revealed to him by those that almost killed him. He realized that he never was, and never would be, like them. Levi doesn’t know that he was one of them, too. They could not be further apart. They are forever, he is temporary.
*
Elmer and Levi will walk across bodies, go down the stairs, and shake hands at the door. Levi will retreat to the 1966 Toyota Corolla to sleep in the back seats. Elmer will go to the kitchen and make himself tea out of the years-old teabags his wife had used. It will be bitter, and he will hate it, but he will know that it is good.
By the time Levi sleeps, Elmer will return to the lounge with his tea, spinning his spoon around the rim of the mug. He will see dead bodies littering the ground and know that it is because of him. He will see the pictures strewn about the floor and know that they are real because of him. He will know that they could not have existed without him.
Elmer will pick the pictures off the ground and flip through them once again. The texture of each will feel like a million needles stabbing his fingers. The sight of each one will fill his eyes with a burning sensation. The sound of each one will be so silent that he will think he is deaf.
Elmer will sink into a filled bath, his tea, spoon, and tea plate sitting on the side of the tub. He will welcome the pain he feels with each picture, and he will hate it, but he will know it is good. The time of passing from one picture to the next will feel like millions of years and a lifetime of pain that he caused will come rushing back to him. He will feel it tenfold. He will hate it, but he will know it is good.
In a final moment of realization, he will look to the spoon on the side of the tub. He will gaze upon its stainless steel. He will admire its miniature designs. He will take it in his hands. He will hate it, but he will know it is good.
Levi will knock on the door in the early morning. That day will be just another day Elmer will not answer. So Levi will look through the windows and see nothing. Levi, calm, will climb over the garden wall and step through the shattered glass door. He will go to the lounge, still covered in bodies, no pictures to be found. Levi will search the house for Bronsted. He will eventually reach the bathroom, and he will try the door. Levi will see the lifeless body of Elmer Bronsted in the pink bathwater. He will see a spoon placed on the side of the tub. He will see how Elmer’s face has no eyes. Levi will see two perfect condition, perfectly round, perfectly healthy eyes resting on a tea plate.