Charles and Elena were touring through Louisiana in the Deep South. They flew down from New York and rented a van, looking for some cheap antiques to sell back in their expensive antique shop in Manhattan. Outside of the big cities they often found valuable antiques in out-of-the-way places. They bought them for next to nothing and sold them to rich customers for big bucks. It was a very proitable business.
Madam Buffet was sitting on her veranda, slowly rocking in her old wooden chair, listening to the sounds of the Louisiana summer. The air was hot and still; the humidity like a wet blanket. Nothing was moving in the heat except for a fly that was bothering her old dog, Bob. Bob lifted his ear and sat up. Someone was coming. He barked once and ran down the long drive towards the main road.
Driving through the lush
green, Elena saw a hand-painted sign
a little way
ahead by the side of the road. 'Charles, look...' she read the
sign to her husband, 'It says "Homemade remedies
for sale, something for
all folks".
let's take a look, there might be some old jars or bottles
we could buy there. Or even wooden shelves or bookcases.'
Charles agreed and turned their van into the long drive lined with
trees. An old dog ran down to meet them.
The antique dealers
parked their van and walked up to the
old plantation
house.
On the veranda was a very old woman sitting quietly on a rocking chair.
'Good day, Ma'am. We see you sell remedies. Well I sure have a stiff
back and neck, and was wondering if you have something to soothe
me?'
Charles lied.
'Well, good day to you too, sir. I'm sure I can help. I have remedies
for every ailment,
so please come inside, out of the heat, and I'll fix
us
all some fresh lemonade,' the old lady replied.
'That would be just swell,
thank you for your kindness,' said Elena.
'Where are you folks from?'
'We're from Chicago,' lied Charles. 'This is my wife Jennifer, and I'm
Ted,' he lied again. It was always best to keep their identity secret
because sometimes the people who they bought antiques from felt
cheated.
'The old lady smiled, 'I'm Marie Buffet. Pleased to meet you both.
Ain't
had no out-of-towners
pass through since I
was a young woman.' Charles and Elena looked at each other. They knew
they had hit
the jackpot.
Madam Buffet's parlor
was full
of old
furniture and ornaments,
and many shelves
of bottles and jars full of her potions.
Charles and Elena looked around the room and realized most if it was
just junk,
but Elena's eyes were drawn
to an old cuckoo clock on the
wall. It wasn't working but looked in good condition, just a little
dusty. Madam Buffet saw Elena looking at the clock and said, 'That old
thing stopped working years ago, but it is real special, real special.'
'I think it's a lovely old clock,' said Elena, 'I'd be glad to give you
a few dollars for it.'
'Oh no miss. I can never sell it. It's been in my family for
many generations.
And as I said, it's kind of special. I could never
sell it. No, no, never. Now let me go fix us that lemonade. You folks
relax.' The old lady hobbled
out to the kitchen. Her dog stayed in the parlor, watching the couple
with his deep soulful
eyes. Charles and Elena
could hear her talking to herself.
'Charles,' Elena said quietly, 'I just got to have that clock.
Everything else here is junk, but that clock must be worth at least two
thousand dollars after repair. Look at the detail on it... so unusual,
almost grotesque.'
'I agree,' replied Charles, 'but she said she won't sell it.'
'Then let's just take it now while she is in the kitchen. I'll put
fifty dollars on the table and we can take it. I'm sure she needs the
money, and I don't see any phone, she's not going to call the police.'
Charles wasn't sure, but nodded his head. He carefully took the clock
from the wall and Elena put fifty dollars on the table. They crept
out
the front door and got into their van. When madam Buffet
returned with the lemonade she saw the clock was gone, she shook her
head in
disbelief, 'Those poor folks! Oh Lord! What have they
done? What have
they done?' her
voice trailed
off.
The two antique dealers drove away quickly, feeling
guilty
but
pleased. They had done this kind of thing many times over the years. As
they drove through the Louisiana countryside, Elena heard a ticking
sound coming from the clock in the
back of the van. 'That's strange,' she said.
'What is?' Charles hadn't heard it.
'The cuckoo clock is working... it's started ticking again.'
'So it has!' replied Charles. 'Well now, that's a bonus.
No repair
costs, only pure
profit!' They both laughed.
Back in their small motel room, Charles and Elena were still feeling very pleased with themselves. During the previous three days they had spent less than one thousand dollars on antiques that they could sell in New York for over thirty thousand. Charles was taking a shower and singing loudly to himself. Elena was in the bedroom, sitting at the small table and inspecting the cuckoo clock. The unusual thing was, it was ticking but there was no door on the back to look inside and nowhere for a key to wind it up. The front was decorated with grotesque carvings and had a single door above the dial for the cuckoo to come out of. It was 11.52pm and she hoped the cuckoo would come out at midnight, as it hadn't come out yet. She was starting to think that maybe the clock was broken after all.
A few minutes later, still wet and wrapped in a
towel, Charles joined his wife. 'Any luck? Is it working?' he asked,
dripping water onto the cheap carpet.
'Well, in three minutes it'll be midnight, let's wait and see what
happens.' They sat and waited for the cuckoo clock to strike
midnight.
"Dong"...
"Dong"... "Dong"... the noise from the clock was really strange
and became
louder with each strike.
"Dong"... "Dong"... "Dong"... The motel room lights flickered
and went
out. Elena felt
so afraid, 'Charles! What's happening?'
'I don't know!'he replied with fear in his voice. He held her hand.
"Dong"... "Dong"... "Dong"... The motel room became colder and
colder and the
clock started glowing in
the darkness.
"Dong"... "Dong"... "Dong"... On the final strike of midnight, the
small door in the front of the clock opened and the cuckoo
came out. The couple's
terrible screams woke up all the motel guests and staff.
Flashing red lights. Three police cars and an ambulance. Two police officers were throwing up outside a motel room. A crowd of people were watching from behind the police line. The police officers agreed they had never seen something so horrific in all their careers. The scene inside the small motel room was beyond description and a local detective was trying to work out how something so bad had happened in this sleepy little town. In all the chaos, no one noticed an old lady cross the police line, enter the blood-stained room and take out an old cuckoo clock under her arm.