Ike Under Glass [and other short stories]

Ike Under Glass

'Before I woke up that morning so long ago, I had never thought of myself as a particularly philosophical person. However, with nobody aside from myself to speak with, not to mention precious little to do otherwise, I have discovered a few things about myself and thus perhaps, the nature of humanity itself. One, that my handwriting is atrocious. Two, given time, a person can get used to anything. In fact, even the strangest places might start to feel like home.'

Ike woke to the sound of the door slamming shut. The force was so strong that the frame seemed to tremble and buzz for a few seconds, producing a low humming sound. Ike looked towards the door, his head felt full of fog. The sound had ceased by the time his eyes focused properly upon the room.

"Hello?" he called out. Of course, there was no one there any more if there ever had been. He could see that the room was empty aside from himself. In fact, he had already started to question whether he'd heard the sound at all. When you became old, you started to distrust a lot of your senses.

He scratched at the stubble upon his chin and reached for the glass of water he always kept on the reading table beside him, downing most of it in four large gulps.

Nothing in the room seemed disturbed. Good. He stretched his knees, hearing the familiar pop they always made when he'd curled them up for a nap on his fireside chair. He was taking more naps these days. Another sign of age, Ike supposed.

There were two things that needed his attention in the room. One was the fire, which was burning fairly low. The other was his clock, which had stopped at some point. The familiar and comforting ticking was sadly missed. Ike stood up and frowned softly to himself. He was sure it wasn't due a winding for a while. He shuffled over to the wall, took the clock down and reached around the back to wind it. His fingers hit smooth wood and nothing more. Ike frowned and turned it over. The back of the clock was completely empty of knobs and the panel for the batteries was almost missing.

For a while, he just stared at the clock, not sure what he was seeing exactly. Ike turned the clock back over so he could see it's face and now noticed that the clock had not stopped. This clock would be entirely unable to run no matter what. The face was only painted on.

"Who in the world..." Ike didn't get to finish his thought. In the few moments he'd taken to reach up and check the clock, the fire had roared back into life. Except it made no sound and produced no heat.

Ike stepped away from the fireplace and stood staring at it, clock still in hand. He put it down on the chair side table and rubbed at his face. His mouth was dry again. The thought that he was still dreaming crossed his mind briefly and was dismissed. It would have been nice to believe in that lie. He knew better though. Ike had had lucid dreams before and they did not feel like this. Every part of him was alert, vibrant and in the waking world.

Which meant something far more unusual and potentially sinister was going on. Perhaps one of his children or grandchildren had sneaked inside and replaced his clock with a fake, that he could believe. However, there was no way they could alter the laws of physics itself just to play a harmless joke on him.

Ike looked at his empty glass and took a step backwards towards the door. He almost didn't want to turn his back on the fireplace in case it changed again. He knew his own sitting room like the back of his hand, but even so, one wrong step could result in quite a serious fall. Ike made himself turn around and head for the door.

The temperature in the room was comfortable, but the knob on the door was ice cold. Ike recoiled from the sensation then tried again. He gingerly touched it a few more times in quick succession before forcing himself to get a firm grip and open the door.

A flood of white powdery flakes fluttered in, having previously been built up against the door. Ike's heart started to race in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.