Novel Kicks Fiction Friday: Strange Shoes

Simon hadn’t visited Hope in several years, but the village, as far as he could tell, hadn’t changed. The streets were clean and lined with flowers. Shop owners stood in doorways. Town’s folk strolled arm-in-arm under colorful umbrellas. For a brief moment he questioned whether the scene was too familiar—that thought crossing his mind that these were the same flowers, the same people, the same umbrellas. But then he came across a shop he was certain was new, at least to him, and the vexing thought vanished.

I can’t say whether Simon gave any thought to the name of the shop – The Fools Bargain – or the fact that the shop owner called him by name. If he had, he might have kept on walking. What I can say is that he was drawn inside by a pair of shoes displayed in the shop window.

Shiny to the point of glossy, black as ebony, the shoes were nothing if not garish.

“Would you like to try them on?” asked the shop owner.

“I can see that they are too small,” replied Simon, his voice heavy with disappointment.

“No sir. I don’t think so.” Pointing to a chair, the shop owner continued: “Please sit and allow me to serve you.”

Simon took a seat. “Forgive me, sir, but I didn’t introduce myself. I am Dmitri.” Dmitri spoke in a deep, but soft voice, smooth like a note bowed from a cello. “It is my pleasure to assist you.”
Dmitri removed Simon’s shoes and slipped the shiny black slippers on Simon’s feet. They fit perfectly.

“You have never experienced footwear such as these,” said Dmitri. “Step outside and see for yourself.”

Simon stood and walked toward the door. He shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight that engulfed the doorway, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He struggled for a moment to clear his vision and another moment to comprehend what he was seeing. The sidewalks were busy with people walking, but their dress was from another era. Women in long dresses walked behind men wearing suits and tall hats. The clop of horses filled the streets. On the edge of panic, Simon barely noticed the carriage in front of him.

“Get in dear.” The voice was familiar but only faintly so. The door to the carriage opened, revealing a woman with sad, empty eyes.

“Mother?” he asked. “You can’t…”

“We have to go,” she said. “Your father is waiting at the funeral home. And so is your sister.”
“But I don’t have a sister.”

The face of a young girl appeared in the doorway of the carriage. “My name is Rose,” she said. “You don’t remember me because I was sent away, because they said I was not right in the head.”

“I have a sister,” repeated Simon.

“You’re wearing father’s shoes,” said Rose.

Simon step away from the carriage, tripping as he did so, falling hard on the sidewalk. Dmitri appeared above him. “I take it the shoes are not to your liking,” he said. “Let me assist you one more time.”