The Museum.
743 Words
“A museum?” I asked Jackie.
Jackie sighed. “I thought that you liked things like this.”
“I do,” I told her. She opened the door for me, and I immediately found a bench to sit down on. “It’s just I didn’t think you did.” The room that we were sitting in was small. It had maybe three things in it, along with a table that had maybe four pamphlets. I could see the door that opened to the rest of the museum. It was darker than the room that we were sitting in. The floor was wood all over and had scratches, more like claw marks, and I wondered what was in the museum before it became a museum.
“Normally, I don’t,” she said, sitting down beside me. She could see me having difficulty holding up my head, so she pulled my head into her shoulder.
“So, again, why are we here?” And why was no one else here? Where was the person that ran it? Where were any other patrons? It was a Sunday. There should have been someone else. There should have been anyone else.
Jackie lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “You like museums.”
I took a breath. “I do.”
“They are quiet,” she again whispered.
“That they are,” I said, resting my eyes for a moment. She stayed silent for a moment. Eventually, that moment turned into three. Then four. Then twenty.
Twenty moments later. I finally spoke. “Thank you,” I told her.
“I thought that it was the least I could do.”
“It’s all my fault.” I closed my eyes again and let the moments slip by for a while again. “I should have been more careful.” Those were the words that finally leaked out of my mouth when I let words leak out.
Jackie ran her fingers through my hair for a second before her words slowly came out. Again, her words were just above a whisper. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did, though. I wasn’t as careful as I should been.”
“Come on,” she said, snagging her way through my hair. “You were as smart and as brave as you have always been.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.”
“It’s a good thing.”
“If there is a chance for me to beg to differ. I would really like to,” I said, finally sitting up.
“If you need to stay on my shoulder for a little longer, it’s fine,” she said, looking over at me.
“No, I think you gave me all of the rest that I need.” I stood and then sat back down. I took a few deep breaths before I stood again. “So, what kind of museum is this?”
“Just a local one. It doesn’t specialize in anything if that is what you are asking.”
“I’m surprised we don’t have to pay.” The first exhibit was that of the Revolutionary War. It was a list of all of the families that fought during the war that were from here. There were at least thirty, maybe even forty, different names, and it had about how most of them died. A few had MIA beside them, but everyone else was accounted for. There wasn’t a lot of MIA. Three, I think.
“This is just one area,” she said, walking up beside me. “This is like the main lobby.”
“Got it,” I said, looking at some of the pictures. They were all part of the same company. They even had the same patch sewn into their clothing. The patch was of a paw print. “Odd.”
“What?” Jackie asked, looking at what I was looking at.
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s probably nothing.” Was it? All I knew was that I didn’t want to think much. My head was already thumping, and trying to figure out why that patch seemed odd just hurt it more. A simple wolf paw was all it was. I didn’t need to think about it more. Nor did I want to.
“Do you want to go into the actual museum?”
“Sure. I’ll buy.”
- Writer
