5 - The Attic, Part 1.

The attic was surprisingly clean--white and finished without a trace of dust. Without a trace of anything, really, save a cement-framed window looking out on the grey morning. There were barely even marks or scratches on the slanted walls. 

Still, something felt different here. Ava glanced into the corners. The air had the feeling of a mirage, like it was on the verge of that particular shimmer caused by heat and distance. The silence was ironclad, and yet you got the impression that someone might cry out at any moment--who, Ava couldn't say, and she shook her head at her own nervousness.

She turned to go back down the stairs--whoever had called was obviously in on some joke. But as she turned, the bottle in her hand caught her eye.

There was a note inside it.

4. The Empty Bottle.

"What did he say?" the man yelled through the glass. 

Her hand was still on the reciever after she'd hung up. It seemed to vibrate with the conversation it had just administered. "It wasn't a he," she yelled back. The woman's voice still echoed in Ava's ear with very specific directions. 

She turned and glanced at the bottles lined up on the windowsill, gleaming below the confused face of the man. They were, oddly, the only things in the room clear of dust. "She?" he yelled back. "How could it be a she? My father said--" But he stopped short when he saw she was staring at the bottles.

Maybe they were a special type of glass? Dust repellant or something? The woman on the phone had known Ava was here, known she was searching for something, so maybe she knew what she was talking about -- although it seemed a strange request. What use could an empty bottle be in finding a watch? 

Nevertheless, she grabbed the nearest bottle and turned towards the back corner of the room, where she saw--as the woman had described--an attic door on the ceiling. "What are you doing?" the man yelled as she climbed onto a chair. She reached for the handle and pulled down the narrow set of stairs before she turned back to explain--but by then the man was suddenly gone. 

Fine by her. She didn't want to deal with yet another stranger; she wanted to find her grandfather's watch. And supposedly it was up in what was sure to be a very tiny attic.

3. The Call.

The man seemed nearly as startled as she was, and fell backwards across the empty flower beds in his alarm at being caught. Ava stepped back from the window. Had he been following her? Was he after--no, she reminded herself. Why would anyone else care about a stupid old watch? 
She peered back out the window. The man hadn't even gotten up yet--he just sat on the dead earth, legs splayed, brow furrowed. She saw him mouth the words even as she herself spoke them out loud, raising her voice to be heard through the milky glass: "Who are you?" .

RIIIIING.

The man jumped up at the sound. Ava whipped around and scanned the room for the source. An old rotary phone, dirty turquoise in color, rang from corner.

No light switches, but a working telephone? .

RIIIIING.

The man jumped up. "Answer it!" he cried eagerly. He pressed his face again against the glass to get a better look. "He told me to make sure you answer it!"

2. The Visitor.

There wasn't a single light switch in the place--just old lanterns left on every shelf and in every corner. The narrow room and all its contents were covered in a murky layer of dust; even the air was thick and stale with age. No one, she realized with relief, had been in this place for years. She moved the moth-eaten curtains aside to let the morning light in, but jumped to see a man's curious face pressed against the glass.

1. The Empty House.

It didn't look like much, that little house. It certainly didn't look like the kind of place anyone would leave anything important. Then again, few people would consider what she was looking for 'important,' least of all the foolish codger who'd left it there--if indeed he had. If this was indeed the place she wanted. She took a deep breath to steady herself. There was only one way to find out, and now was not the moment to reconsider.