A Friend in the Attic
Willi climbs the attic ladder with ease, having made the trip many times before. She often liked to sit in the attic and pretend she was a ghost, or a maiden trapped in a castle, or a vampire imprisoned for heinous deeds.
As Willi reaches the top, however, she finds that the attic is nothing like it was before. When things were normal, there would be all sorts of old junk covered in sheets and shoved into boxes, like your classic attic on TV. There would be dust everywhere and usually a bat (Willi has named him Quincy).
Now, however, the attic is dusted and tidy, looking as neat as any other room in the house. The boxes are emptied and set up like counters with various items of her family’s junk scattered on top. There are even signs with various prices written on them. It quite honestly looks more like a shop than a home.
Most interesting, of course, is the creature standing among the box shop.
Their face is pale, with round glasses tied to it with a golden chain (they have no ears; they also have no pupils; it baffles Willi how the creature can see). The rest of their body, however, is a deep black from neck to toe. They tilt their head at Willi and wiggle excitedly.
“You are the human, yes?” the creature says (though it has no mouth). “Thank you for accepting my invitation!”
Willi stares for a second, before remembering her manners and curtseying.
“The pleasure is mine,” she says. “I’m afraid I don’t have your name. The letter wasn’t signed.”
“Ah,” the creature shakes their head. “We go more by descriptions than names here. Names are more of a human thing. However, I didn’t like my description much.” As they say this, their deep black hand rubs along the top of their pale head. “Why don’t you call me The Attic Antiquarian? I think that’s a more apt description.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mx. Attic Antiquarian,” Willi continues, remembering the honorific one should use when one doesn’t know one’s gender, just as her mother taught her.
The Attic Antiquarian doesn’t correct her. “And what may I call you, dear?”
“My name is Willi.”
“Willi. What a fine name!” The Attic Antiquarian leans against the box in front of them, examining Willi’s face. “And it is true that you live here, yes?”
“It’s supposed to be true,” Willi says. “But the House Thief downstairs is having trouble believing me.”
“Oh?”
“They say there is no proof of me living here, so I may not be telling the truth.”
“Is there not proof of you living here?” The Attic Antiquarian asks.
“Sort of,” Willi admits. “There’s pictures of me here, but I was a baby then, so the House Thief doesn’t believe it’s me.”
“Don’t you have any pictures of you here looking as you are now?”
Willi shakes her head. “I’m afraid I don’t like photos much.”
“Well, that’s no good,” The Attic Antiquarian tuts, straightening themself. “Photos keep things closer to the truth. Without them, our brains get muddled and lie to themselves. Why, who’s to say that you don’t actually live here, and your brain only tricked you into thinking you had?”
“I…” Willi blinks away, looking down to her feet. “I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose it is possible.”
Did she make it up? Are her parents not really her parents? Was she never to have an annoying baby brother? Could it be that she herself is an odd creature just like everything else here?
“Oh,” Willi remembers. “The Ghost Woman also said that a deed to the house may do it. But I’m not sure where to find it.”
“A house deed, yes!” The Attic Antiquarian exclaims, now excited. “That should work perfectly, if your name is on the deed, indeed.” They chuckle at themself. “Lucky for you, I am enamored with lost items and have made it a talent of mine to find them.”
“Really?” Willi asks, now hopeful. Perhaps she lives here after all.
“Why, of course! Finding items thought to be lost is my specialty, and getting a chance to look at a real human house deed would be an excellent opportunity.” The Attic Antiquarian sighs. “But I’m afraid I am terribly busy. I have so much to do to get the new shop going, as well as continuing my research. I’m not sure when I’ll have the time to look for it.”
“Can I help?” Willi asks.
The Attic Antiquarian looks down at her and hums. Willi cannot tell if it is an approving or disapproving hum. Who knew that faces were so useful in showing expression?
“I suppose out of all the creatures in this house, you would be the best to help me,” The Attic Antiquarian says. “Even if you are potentially not a human who lives here.”
“What do you need me to do?” Willi asks.
“Well, I do have some questions for you,” The Attic Antiquarian decides. “Why don’t you come to the back with me and we’ll have ourselves an interview?”
Finally introducing my fave character so far!
Thank you for reading!
