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Seeing that I haven’t had much to say, here’s a 500 word story for Tin House Blog’s Plotto Series:
“No. The door knob won’t turn. It was fine when I left for breakfast.”
“Yes, it’s locked.”
“No. I didn’t lock it.”
“Thank you.”
“Mr. Michaels, it’s Sylvie over at The Bohemian. You’re not going to believe this but—“
“Yes, actually. How’d you guess?”
“True. How soon can you be here?”
“Sorry?”
“Locked. Yes.”
“I’ll see you then.”
Mrs. Finley stared at the black glass knob with the nickel plate behind it. It wouldn’t budge. Her daughter, Emmie, was by the sliding door to the balcony, imagining the view behind the drawn blinds. She was eight now and she thought she should be trusted on the balcony. Whoever said “out of sight, out of mind” must never have been a child. Emmie thought the door knob was ugly. Plus there it was for no reason in the middle of the door. She didn’t like the way her mom kept touching it.
In The Bohemian’s elevator, Mr. Michaels recalled that year in architecture school when he sold his first designs. They ended up in the city’s boutique hotels and he was higher than any building for a time. All but a few no longer existed, but the ones that did still concerned him.
Mr. Michaels knocked twice.
“Hello, Tim.”
“Sarah? What—“
“Emmie, meet Mr. Michaels, an old friend from architecture school. He’s here to fix our little problem.”
Emmie looked at his striped suit and wondered what he had to do with door knobs.
“It’s his, sweetie. His design. Mr. Michaels knows more about this door knob than anyone.”
Emmie was picturing the man in the suit, only instead of his nose he had the door knob.
He said, “I didn’t know you still came into the city.”
“Yes, I’ve been back…every year or so.”
“And no trouble with the door…until today?”
Mrs. Finley was stroking Emmie’s hair. “I don’t usually stay in this room. You see, this time I’m here with Emmie.”
“Right,” he said. “First thing, Emmie, no one’s allowed to tamper with that door but me. Second thing: it doesn’t lock. It can’t.”
“But?” Emmie began and then broke away, straight for the black knob. “Look! It’s stuck. Won’t open.”
“All I said is that it couldn’t lock. But there’s this one quirk only two people know about, and it makes the knob get really stuck. So stuck, Emmie, that you can’t fix it. And this knob is the only one like it. And once you rip it out, you can’t ever use it again.”
Emmie suddenly liked the door knob and now she was angry at Mr. Michaels. “If you made it, why can’t you fix it?”
“Emmie! Just this once, go be careful out on the balcony.”
And though Emmie had been upset, this revelation made her forget as she skipped towards the sliding door.
Mr. Michaels looked at Mrs. Finley, his upturned hand asking, Why?
“It’s been so long. I just wondered if you’d found a way to fix it.”
© Kathryn Martins and kathrynmartins1, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kathryn Martins and kathrynmartins1 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
A most intriguing story. Fascinating read.
Thanks Shona. And thanks for giving it a read. I hope this week treats you very well
You sure can write good story Kathryn! I found it most enjoyable.
Thanks for visiting Deb, and for all your support. I’m glad you enjoyed your winter forest stroll today. That’s a beautiful painting up on your site. I think Cici’s last shot was today until you get that test done and the results back. Thinking great thoughts…
Wow…..this is such a layered piece of prose, Kathryn. Lots going on here beneath the surface that would make me want to keep reading to find out if any of my thinking might be right about these people and how they might be connected by their pasts.
Favorite line, aside from the whole description and focus on the doorknob, is Emmie and the balcony and the “out of sight/mind/never been a child”. Brilliant in its truth.
Love the visual I get with the name of this building — “The Bohemian” — I have a lot of images with the name alone, and these go along with that black glass knob and the nickel plate. My grandparents had the clear glass knobs throughout their tiny beach house, but I’ve not seen black ones. I like how details are suggested as opposed to spelled out…..I need to learn to do this.
Well done — and good for you for putting it out there to share. You are an inspiration to me.
(As an aside…..this wasn’t the “shoe” prompt, clearly. Just wondering what the Plotto was for this. I’ll have to go an have a look.)
Hey Angela. Thanks a million for popping by for a read…and thank you for your generous comment. The prompt was a malfunctioning door knob on a woman’s hotel bedroom door. It locked itself and would not turn. I enjoyed this one more than the 1st, which is funny since i didn’t like the prompt at all. I guess that’s how it goes sometimes–read as “what do i know?” Nothing new there
The writing in here was so different in style from the 1st one. Will see what happens with #3. Let me know if you give it a go. You take care 