The Antique Owl

“It’ll just be a few minutes,” he said, peering into the backseat. “We’re making good time, and I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

“Fine,” she gargled back, her voice trying to shake off the sleep. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I hope there’s a bathroom in there.”

“Well, if not, you could always just piss yourself like you did that one time on the way back from that show in Des Moines.” He looked back at her again with a grin.

She gave an embarrassed chuckle, “That would never have happened if my idiot brother would’ve just pulled the car over!”

“Oh yeah? And which idiot brother would that be?”

“You’re the stupidest brother I have, David, so you tell me.”

“I’m the only brother you have, Kate.”

The smiles slid slowly off of both of their faces, as they realized the implication of what David had just said. They rode in silence until David parked the car. “ANTIQUES” read the sign outside the decrepit building that looked like an antique itself. The generic name of the store indicated the lack of necessity for specifics in a small town. This was the only antique store here, so there was no need to distinguish it any further. A quick glance down the rest of the ill-kept main street demonstrated this further. Signs like “Pawn Shop” and “Tailor” and “Theater” barely clung to the sides of their respective buildings. As they took in their surroundings, the two siblings wondered what the likelihood was of any of those businesses still operating. “It doesn’t even look like it’s open,” Kate said.

“Only one way to find out.”

They both climbed out of the car and strode toward the entrance. The door opened with no trouble, verifying that the shop was, indeed, open. The place looked like any other antique store David had been to, full of musty old trinkets that only held value for those who knew anything about them, all haphazardly organized in precarious jumbles. David felt comfortable here. He didn’t consider himself a connoisseur of old treasures by any means -- he couldn’t tell just by looking at something if it was worth anything or not. But he frequented all the antiques shops in his neighborhood, and would even purchase something every once in a while, if it spoke to his tastes. He’d been curious about this particular store for a while now, it being advertised by a billboard on the stretch of highway that he took from his home in the city to his parents’ house two states over. Before now, he avoided the urge to visit, thinking it would only make the five hour drive that much longer. But today he wanted to delay his arrival as much as possible. He didn’t want to see his parents and their distraught faces. He didn’t want to talk about certain things that were bound to be talked about. He didn’t want to see Kate cry anymore, and he knew that she would the minute they stepped into their parents’ home.

“Look around or whatever, I’m gonna go find a toilet,” Kate said. David nodded in acknowledgement and began his perusal. He started down the nearest aisle and passed several shelves full of books whose pages had all but come detached from their spines, then multiple racks of military clothing, the original owners of which were no doubt long dead. At the end of the aisle stood a display case, which also acted as the checkout counter. Behind the register, sat an ancient looking woman on a stool. Her arms were folded across her midriff, and her eyes were closed. David thought she could have been dead, but the slow rise and fall of her shoulders assured him that was not the case.

“Hello,” he said politely as a way to announce his presence. The woman’s eyes shot open, but she maintained her pose. She gave a slight nod, which David returned with a closed-mouth smile. He then peered through the glass cover of the display case, scanning all the various knickknacks within. This was the section David liked most. He was always on the hunt for any sort of simulacrum with which he could decorate his cubicle. Something that signified his uniqueness. It only took a few moments before one of the objects spoke to him. Nestled amidst an assortment of wooden figurines, which looked marred by shoddy craftsmanship or mistreated by time, it managed to catch his eye. It appeared as if it were brand new, yet it possessed an ancient quality that David couldn’t quite articulate in his thoughts. The base was a series celtic knots, upon which sat a pair of talons that flowed smoothly into a complex pattern of feathers. The head turned ninety degrees from the body and two eyes stared right back at David. They were the only part of the figure that lacked intricate carvings -- huge and vacant yet full of wisdom.

“You like that barn owl?” The woman’s voice seemed well-suited for the environment, dusty and like it hadn’t been used in a while.

“Uh, yeah,” said David, slightly startled. “It seems pretty cool.”

“Would you like to hold it?” she croaked almost excitedly. With a surprisingly quick movement, she slid off her stool and planted her feet on the ground. Her height standing up was no different from when she was perched on the stool. She gazed at him through her enormous glasses, which magnified her eyeballs to comical proportions.

David felt slightly put off by the woman’s pushiness, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want a closer look. Perhaps she sensed his eagerness. “Yes, please,” he said.

“Very well.” She flapped her arms under her shawl for a moment, patting herself down in search of something. Presently, she extracted a ring of keys and selected the one that would unlock the sliding door on the display case. She reached her claw-like hand slowly over the other odds and ends to retrieve the owl then held it out for David to take. “There you are.”

He grabbed it from her gingerly, trying to match the amount of care she had shown. “Thanks,” he said, as he turned it over in his hands to admire it from all angles. It was much heavier than David imagined it would be, signifying that it might, indeed, be worth something. “What’s the story behind this?” he asked, not looking up from the figurine. “I mean, do you know where this came from?”

“Where it came from, I cannot say,” the woman replied. “But it’s been here with me at this shop for many, many years now. I’ve become quite fond of it.”

“Does that mean it’s not for sale?” David broke his gaze with the owl and turned toward the woman.

“Not necessarily,” she said. “Not if I find it a suitable owner.”

“You say you don’t know where it came from. Do you know when it’s from? Like, was there a specific manufacturer that made these in a certain timeframe?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking these questions. David typically never cared if anything was valuable, as long as it held meaning to him. The sticker on its underside revealed that it cost twenty dollars. That normally would have been all the information he needed. In this moment, however, he wanted to know all he could about the owl.

“I do not know that either. You’ll notice there are no markings on it that would indicate such a thing. But I can tell that it’s well made, and I understand the significance of owls.”

“The significance of owls?” David asked, almost laughing. Surely this woman didn’t think any random mug or t-shirt with an owl on it was sacred just because it was adorned with a picture of a particular nocturnal bird.

“The significance of owls,” she repeated. “In the ancient Celtic tradition, owls symbolize death and rebirth. To many, they are a very sacred creature.”

“Death and rebirth,” David said. “You mean like a phoenix? Or Jesus? Why do they need so many different things to represent one idea?”

“Honey, the phoenix is from Greek mythology. Jesus was a Jew. You really expect the ancient Celtic people to have any idea about those other two concepts? No, they found their own symbol.”

David realized how ignorant his comment must have seemed. He felt sheepish and was abruptly anxious to leave. Where was Kate? He swung his head around the store. No sign of her. A sudden wave of panic came over him. He had just lost one sibling, and now lost the other. He’d show up to his brother’s funeral and have to tell his parents about his missing sister. “Did you see a young woman pass by here a few minutes ago?” he asked.

The woman appeared to have either not heard him or didn’t think his question deserved answering. “You can have it for fifty dollars,” she said.

“What?” David asked, putting his anxiety about Kate aside and returning his focus to the transaction. “The tag says twenty.”

“Yes,” replied the woman, “but isn’t it worth more than that to you?”

Before David could respond, he heard a voice whisper in his ear, “Finding anything good?” it said in a mocking deep tone. David jumped and turned to see Kate standing there, smiling. “Took awhile to find the bathroom, but I’m good to go now. You almost done?”

“Yeah, one sec.” David faced the woman again. “Fifty?” She didn’t say anything, but gave a gentle nod. “Fine.”

Minutes later they were in the car and back on the road. “I’m excited to see Aunt Carol’s new baby. That’ll be nice.” David said.

“Yeah, it will,” said Kate, gazing out the window. Then she turned and grabbed David’s bag from the antique store. “Hey, what’d you end up getting at that place anyway?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” David replied.

After a few seconds of rummaging and unwrapping, Kate extracted the souvenir. “An owl?” she laughed. “You paid fifty bucks for this stupid, little thing?”

David grabbed the owl. “Yeah, so what?” he said as he balanced his new prize on the dashboard. “It means something to me.”