A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left his entire collection, and the business built around them, to his only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. These are the stories of some of those encounters with objects found at
Amorous Goods
.
As Nick stepped out of his last class of the week, he felt the cold wind blowing off Lake Michigan cut through his light jacket and shivered. Glancing up at the sky filled with dark clouds, he cursed under his breath. "Of course. The weather would suck on Friday the 13th." With rain seemingly imminent and a cold, windy trek home ahead of him, Nick felt a pang of regret for letting Brad borrow his truck for the weekend. He shook it off, knowing that Janet moving in was a big step for his old friend.
The rumble of thunder in the distance made him speed up until he was nearly jogging as he reached the bridge over the river. He felt the first fat drops of rain start to fall just two blocks later. With nearly a mile to go before reaching his house, Nick decided to find shelter for a while. He spotted a green storefront with a sign reading
Amorous Goods
in an ornate gothic script and dashed inside.
Pausing for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room, Nick glanced around at the strange assortment of items for sale. Slowly moving deeper into the store, he walked past dusty shelves holding an antique brass lantern, several old cameras, and a battered violin. Approaching a glass case holding an old-fashioned mechanical cash register, Nick peered down at the array of coins, jewelry, and watches laid out on velvet-lined trays.
"Anything strike your fancy?" a voice rang out in the still, stuffy air. Nick whirled around, startled by the sight of a tall blonde woman approaching him through another row of shelves. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she said, half-smiling at his reaction. "Looking for anything in particular?"
Nick noted her long legs encased in tight jeans and her piercing blue eyes. Desperately trying not to glance down at the sizable expanse of cleavage being displayed by her low-cut shirt, he nonetheless spotted a sticker proclaiming "Hello! My name is...Vikki" on her shirt
"Nothing specific," Nick replied, hoping she hadn't noticed him checking her out. "I was mostly just looking to get out of the rain for a minute." Glancing around the store, he continued "I've never noticed this place before. Is it new?"
Vikki raised a sarcastic eyebrow as she ran her finger through a thick patch of dust on the nearest shelf. "Hardly. This was my weird Uncle Jason's store. I found out after he died that I inherited his entire estate, including nine stores like this across the country. I've been going around to each of them, trying to get everything sold off so that I can wrap this up and get back to my real life. So, feel free to make me an offer on anything that you like. I just want to get back to my real life"
Nick wasn't quite sure how to respond to this, so he went with the tried-and-true "I'm sorry for your loss." He looked out the window and sighed as the continuing downpour failed to present him with an easy exit. He swept his gaze across the store once more until his eyes landed on something leaning against a wall, an old chessboard.
Taking a couple of steps towards the board, not noticing the look of bemused disbelief on her face as he distractedly wandered off in the middle of their conversation. The chessboard looked like it was made of weathered stone and Nick could see what looked like Greek letters carved along each side of the board. He ran his fingers along the word "ΞΞΞ§ΞΞΞΩ΀ΞΞ£", trying to recall the lessons his yiayia had given him as a child and coming up blank.
He opened the velvet bag sitting next to the board and peered down at the ornately carved chess pieces. Pulling one out, he looked at the incredible detail on the small eagle. It felt like it was on the verge of taking off and flying around the shop. The longer he held the piece, the more a strange feeling of nervous energy swept through him.
"Interesting, isn't it?" Vikki said, her voice once again startling Nick and making him whirl around. "Supposedly, it's from the Middle East and dates back to the 1400s. At least, that's what Uncle Jason's notes say."
Not sure what to make of that, Nick merely grunted, dropped the piece back into the bag, and glanced at the price. He was surprised to see that it was just $85, particularly given its supposed age. He turned to Vikki and gave her a puzzled expression, gesturing vaguely at the tag in his hand.
"Everything must go" she responded to his unspoken question. "You want it?"
Nick pulled out his wallet to see if he had enough and found the $100 bill for his birthday last month. "Sure, probably a better use for this than a bunch of beer," he said, handing her the cash and putting the bag of pieces into his backpack. "Maybe I can even use the board as an umbrella."
"Seems unnecessary," said Vikki, handing him the change and gesturing at the front windows, where light was now streaming in. "Storm's gone. Have a nice day!" she said and gently guided him out the door, shutting and locking it behind him.
Having long known that both the weather and the people around here could be weird, Nick shook off the strange encounter.
Walking up the sidewalk to his childhood home, he spotted his pickup in the driveway with a piece of paper stuck under the windshield wiper. He grabbed it and read the characteristically brief note from Brad: "Thanks for the loan. Keys in the mailbox. Beers on me." Shaking his head in amusement, Nick pulled his mail and his keys out of the mailbox, unlocked the front door, and walked inside the spacious Victorian home that he had inherited from his parents far too early. Smelling the delicious meal he had placed in the Crockpot earlier, Nick said, "Thank God I set that up this morning. I'm too damn cold to wait for takeout."
After hanging the keys on a hook by the door and dropping the mail in a basket by the stairs, Nick looked around for a clear surface to put his newest possession. Not finding an available surface that wasn't occupied by textbooks, tools, or some kind of project, he opted to set it on the mantle over the fireplace in his living room.
Moving to the kitchen to serve his dinner, he set aside any thoughts about the chess set and instead focused on having a relaxing weekend full of home renovations, beer, and a good book or two. His latest ex had loudly and publicly dumped him at a restaurant two weeks ago after he resisted going to yet another drunken frat party. Screaming that he was a controlling asshole and lousy in bed, she dumped her wine in his lap and stormed out. It might have been more embarrassing if the cute waitress hadn't taken the opportunity to slip him her phone number. Or if he hadn't heard from some good friends that she was making out with one of her TAs last weekend while he was working on his house. Either way, Nick was able to shrug it off and move on with his life, though he wasn't sad to be able to skip those parties on campus.