Music

He hated working the afternoons after the owner and her husband went to an estate sale. Belongings from the recently deceased gave the antique shop an even weirder feeling than it usually had. His manager called him superstitious and brushed him off; he called her reckless and rolled her eyes when her back was turned. But, He liked this job and didn’t want to look for another one so he never pushed.
“Pretty slim picking out there today. Looks like we might have to hit up that storage unit auction this weekend after all.”
He despised those for a different reason: the stuff always smelled like rot and mold, even if nothing was wet. He made a note to bring some air freshener to his next shift.
“You can just leave the boxes in the office. I’ll sort everything out tomorrow and get it ready for the floor.”
He waved them off, walking back behind the desk while they walked to the door. Wednesdays were always the quietest night of the week, so he could catch up on all the Admin work they had let get away from them like answering emails, and taking photos for the website. After making sure that the ringer on the phone was all the way up, his ear buds went in. Pop music often made the more tedious tasks go by faster.

The first time he heard it, he thought it was part of the fadeout between songs or maybe his headphones were losing their charge. The high-pitched plucking sound definitely didn’t sound like anything that was part of the song He was listening to. He paused the music, pulling out the ear buds and the noise grew louder almost immediately with nothing else to dampen it. No, no noise; music.
First stop was the curio cabinet where a few music boxes were housed. If you breathed on those things the wrong way they would start up. But no, the sound was more muted here than by the desk. It was like playing a terrible game of “Hot and Cold” as he walked the shop floor. Having checked all the usual suspects, he paused at the office door. Even though it was closed, the music seemed loudest directly in front of it.
The swelling of sound was immediate as he pushed the door open. However, nothing seemed out of the ordinary; nothing floating around the room or glowing, or anything like that. He did shuffle one of the heavier chairs in front of the door to make sure it stayed open before he went in. He stepped around the boxes the own had brought in, careful not to touch any of them. He grabbed his bag so he wouldn’t have to come back in before closing for the night, and turned to get his scarf up from the coat rack. Before he could leave, he noticed an instrument case sticking up from one of the boxes.
He knew he shouldn’t, but he slowly lifted the case out of the box. The whole thing trembled in his hands, like a reverberating string after being plucked or having a bow run across it. He set it gently on the desk and ran his fingers along the clasps. A deep breath, and he pushed them up with a “click” that was only just louder than the music and lifted it a crack. Even just that much, and the sound became deafening, causing him drop the lid back down. Clicking the clasps again closed, he backed slowly from the room and closed the door.
Perhaps some bleach, maybe some holy water, instead of air freshener….