Page 42 of Artifacts

The three of them had come up with the tale that accompanied the announcement of the one-time-only exhibition, and it seemed to have captured people’s imaginations. Elliot had been strict about them not using any untruths that they didn’t have to in their advertising of the event, and they’d only told one, but the description of the incidents surrounding the artifacts was gripping. Aldric felt sorry that Randa Buckman had been dragged into it—not just mentioned by name, as the widow of the deceased owner, but that a couple of reporters had tried to reach her too, to add to the story.

“So it’s kinda like when they opened Tutankhamun’s tomb?” a woman was asking now, pointing at the boxes. “Only in this case, not disturbing the possessions but separating the owner from them unleashed the curse?”

“It’s one theory,” Elliot agreed, his more formal, correct tone making the woman’s enthusiasm sound more breathless.

“And does the buyer they’re going to know about it?” asked her friend. “Or is that why he wants them? He collects macabre stuff?”

“What makes you think it’s a he?” Aldric put in. This was the one thing they’d invented, that the goods were being shipped out of state first thing tomorrow, to a collector of curios who’d bought the whole lot. Aldric, thinking of Buck’s widow and how she’d cried on the phone the other day, had left a message at the Buckman estate telling her about the exhibition in case she hadn’t caught the announcements. She hadn’t been available to him or to give any comments to any reporters or journalists, so she might have been away. Her assistant had promised to pass his message on, however, and this way, she’d have another chance to see the items.

“It’s good to see you interacting with people like that.” Elliot smiled at Aldric. “When you first started at Intrinsic Value, you were rather diffident at dealing with customers, remember? I recall you blushing and stammering when you tried to reply to questions about an item or its price, or even asking the customer to wait until I or Jonas were free to attend to them.”

“And look at you now,” Jonas agreed. “You even gave a mini-interview to those high school kids wanting to include this in their assignment!”

“Well, someone had to,” Aldric joked. Elliot didn’t like the limelight. When they’d been planning earlier, Jonas had suggested Elliot feature in the short video announcement about the Buckman acquisitions exhibition that they were putting on the store’s website and sending to customers via email, among other things, but he’d refused. He didn’t like having his photograph taken. Aldric didn’t know why, when Elliot was so distinguished-looking.

He thought about what Elliot and Jonas had just said. It was true that Aldric felt more at ease than he used to, more comfortable not just in his skin, but about taking up space in the world. He was a determined person who could fight, despite the occasional stutter on his lips, the thudding of his heart or the shakiness in his limbs, when it came to something he really wanted.

Something like Darrell.He’d put his foot down there and stood up for himself, because he wanted all of Darrell, and not just the bits Darrell gave him behind closed doors.And if that means I end up with no part of him at all? Well, tough.The thought was bleak and cold, but he’d have to live with it, and surely the feeling of loss that wanted to open up like a sinkhole at his feet and engulf him would lessen in time.Right?

He wished Darrell were there, were with him on this, though. He held in a snort of laughter, imagining Darrell at this place, taking in the different exhibitions. He’d never seen Darrell at the gym but imagined him in that sort of setting, his biceps flexing as he worked with weights, or his lean glutes contracting and lengthening as he did squats. Darrell was proficient with a firearm too. Aldric had read the write-up about the recent Mafia arrests and the police officers’ roles in it, rereading the description of how quickly Officer Williams had drawn his weapon. It gave Aldric more fodder for his fantasies, picturing Darrell at the gun range. He tried hard not to think that fantasies were all he’d be left with, if Darrell remained closeted and never came out.

Oh.Thinking about Darrell and the police had given him an idea. “Elliot.” He spoke quietly to avoid being overheard. “Instead of me having a break, what if we gave the security guard one?”

“He’s due for one,” Elliot agreed. “Ah. I think I see what you’re getting at. That while the cat’s away, the mice…how shall I put it…mightpounce.”

It wasn’t that amusing, and the situation was far from a joke, but Elliot’s silly words brought a smile to Aldric’s face and he nodded. The tall, square-shouldered guard no longer being in the room changed the atmosphere, making Aldric edgy. Now, everyone approaching the collection of knickknacks, from cynical teenagers to curious adults, was a potential threat, and within five minutes, Aldric’s tense shoulders were aching.

But nothing happened.

Elliot looked paler and more drawn as the evening went on, and Aldric felt guilty and foolish. He caught the yawn Elliot tried to conceal and saw Jonas sneak more than one look at his watch. The foot traffic died off in their exhibition hall and the art space as a whole, the place becoming quieter.

“Guys.” Enzo stood there. “We’re not far from closing time.”

And we have nothing to show for it.“I’m really sorry,” Aldric started, and Elliot shook his head.

“It was a good idea. Just because nothing came of it doesn’t negate that. At the very least, we had some publicity for the store. I anticipate a good number of walk-ins as a result of this. Curiosity is a great motivator.”

“Thank you. Look, I’m happy to pack away if you two want to go?” Aldric offered. It was the least he could do.

“If you’re sure?” Elliot beckoned the guard over. “I feel relatively easy about it, as you’ll have Mr. Smith here standing watch.” He checked that the man knew his instructions for removal and transport of the items.

“Well, see you tomorrow,” Jonas said, as he too took his leave. “Sorry it didn’t work out, Aldric.”

It didn’t take long to clear away the curios. It wasn’t as though each had to be carefully packaged in bubble wrap and nestled into its own box that was then filled with packing peanuts. Mr. Smith, if that was his real name, helped, and even let Aldric sit up front with him in the van he was driving to transport the goods to Elliot’s safe deposit place.

Downtown was lively and loud, and Aldric realized they were just north of it, in the ‘gayborhood’, when he saw two guys walking along holding hands, one pointing toward a bar and his slighter taller boyfriend shaking his head and indicating another, across the street. Aldric wondered who won and thought they probably both had. This was Darrell’s neighborhood. He must go to the bars and clubs around here, hooking up—and discarding. Aldric turned away from the window. He didn’t go to this area much and now he’d make sure he came even less.

They drove through the city in silence until they were out of the downtown area.

“These antiques. Artifacts. Goods. I’d have thought they’d be in a bank vault, or somewhere…not here,” the guard said as they arrived off San Antonio’s north side, before the Hill Country. He spared a glance for his passenger. “You do know it’s kind of isolated out here, right?”

Even if he hadn’t, he could have worked it out, but Aldric just shrugged. “As long as the place is secure.” He hoped it was, because, for him, the evening wasn’t over.“Nothing came of it.” “It didn’t work out.”Elliot’s and Jonas’ words replayed in his head, and Aldric added‘Yet,’to them, because he still had plans.

Shrugging, the guard pulled into the dirt lot in front of the building. Aldric hadn’t known what to expect of a safety deposit facility, his imagination veering from a state-of-the-art fortress with crisscrossing laser beams to a row of self-storage units in a yard behind a metal gate. This was big and looked like a warehouse. There were only a couple of other vehicles in the shadowy lot, at the back where employees would park.

“Thanks,” Aldric said when Mr. Smith took most of the artifacts from the van. He juggled his armful of stuff with the main door keycard and pad to enter the code. He’d memorized it along with the one he’d need for the Intrinsic Value room, when he found it. Mr. Smith scanned the barely lit foyer inside.

“Should be a guard,” he commented, pointing a foot at the desk and chair.

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