The Costume Lady

I love costumes.
I love walking inside a thriftstore and running my hands over velvet and satin and tulle, and dreaming of what new persona could be born from them. So it comes as no surprise that when I see a small booth labeled "Costumes and Capers" inside the mall, I have to investigate. It is no more than a small shop front laden with clothing, piled in heaps and hung over strings on the ceiling, and a small covered pavilion in back, sectioned into dressing room and storage space. A wisened old woman sits on the cushion in front of the booth, calling for her wares with a rich, dark voice like the mysterious traveling trader that she is.

I enter excitedly and begin to paw through her wares. The clothes smell of musty air and musk, mothballs and lavender perfume, far away countries and grass after a rainstorm. They whisper to me tales of lovers' unions and bloody wars and working 9-5 at the airport as a janitor...

How much for this vest?" I ask, lifting a purple satin thing that dreams of palaces.

"Five dollars." The woman replies without looking.

"This embroidered pirate jacket?"

"Twenty-five."

"And this watch?" I lift up a golden pocket watch on a long silver chain, emblazoned with the image of the phoenix on its cover and inlaid with mother of pearl. On the back is the phrase, "May we meet again in Heaven or Hell. Only Time will tell..."and the initials: "J.M."

The woman freezes as she hears the clink of the chain. "Ah," she replies. "I almost forgot that was back there. I put it out on a whim so long ago, about two weeks ago, and no one has asked about it since. It was almost priceless, once...but now the memories clinging to it bring only pain. Here," and the old woman pushes it toward me with a gnarled hand. "May it bring you some measure of happiness. I do not esteem it worth paying for." Aghast but happy, I thank the woman and turn to leave-- but pause, midstep, feeling the pain in her eyes. There is a story here, waiting to be told.

I turn and sink down to the floor of the shop amid flurries of colorful dresses and scarves.
"Madame? Would you mind terribly much if I asked you the tale of this watch?"

A sigh older and heavier than mountains escapes her lips. She adjusts her head scarf and sits down beside me, hidden from shoppers by the front counter. "It is not a terribly long tale, but a sad one, I'm afraid. I haven't ever been asked for it, so it'll take me some time to find where to begin. Usually I'm much better at telling stories, so you'll have to forgive me. But-- no, I don't mind. perhaps it would be good to let it out at last...."

"You see, in my youth, the people of my town all called me the Costume Lady. Mostly I just worked in my mother's shop as her assistant, tailoring old coats and mending shoes and sewing little flowers onto hats. On occasion, I would attempt more daring projects with the little tidbits of exotic things friends and family gave me when they had opportunity. But one day, a stranger blew into town. He had on him the most beautiful clothes...breeches of silk, and a waistcoat of satin, and boots that went nigh up his thighs and were the most exquisite ebony black, like polished stone...he had on these soft, white kidskin gloves, a coat embroidered with silver dragons, and a cane tipped with gold...

"And draped round his waist was this gold watch, fastened with a silver chain. He almost glowed with elegance. He came into my mother's shop to mend a small tear in the inner lining of his tophat. I told him that my mother would be back shortly, fearing to try my hand with the cloth of such a distinguished gentleman, but he insisted that it must be fixed right away, that he had a very important meeting soon and did not want the tear to spread. I wondered what sort of meeting could possibly be so violent as to spread the tear, but said nothing. I acceded to his wishes and mended the hat, and thanking me hastily, the man flew out of the shop and down the street.

"The next day, he was in the shop again, this time for a stain on his collar, which I removed carefully with an assortment of different chemicals. The gentleman again sped out as if he had wings on his heels, but returned the very next day, and the next, with other small complaints, which he cheerfully declared could be fixed by my 'tailor's magic,' if nothing else.

My mother heard how much time he was spending around the shop and told me not to let him in after hours. The next night, however, he did not appear. I assumed he had incurred no more damage to his finery, and perhaps would no longer need my services, which for some reason made me sad. We had gotten to talking late at night, as I sewed and he waited impatiently, about the mysterious and miraculous adventures he was so fortunate to embark upon in his line of work. What that work was, he didn't say, but he did tell of the most interesting people. 'You don't have much chance to meet new people working all day in the back of a shop,' he said. 'If you want to taste life you have to really go out there, to see people for yourself, not just collect the stories that their clothes tell you.' I almost believed his words, and yet there was something sorrowful in his voice as he left each night, that barred me from following...

But one night he came back, just as I was about to close the shop. My mother, who had taken sick, was upstairs in bed already. He burst through the door with a big gust of wind behind him, and, trembling, locked it and barred it with a stool. He began dragging the heavy sewing table over to the door as well, and it was then I noticed how truly out of shape his attire was. The cuffs of his suit were torn, the collar dirty and ragged, and his pantleg shorn with one long tear, coloured on either side with the menacing dark hue of dried blood.

'Sir?' I asked, hesitating but wanting to come closer. 'Are you all right?' He glanced over with hunted eyes, drawing the window curtains closed.

'I'm sorry, Costume Lady. I had nowhere else to go. They'll find me soon, but I had to see you before I go on the run once more. I- I wondered if you could keep something for me.' He reached around and unclasped the watch from his waist, fingering the silver chain with a touch somewhere between love and fear. 'I need to borrow some clothing, some womens' clothing, and I am unfortunately out of money due to-- circumstances, and was hoping perhaps you might accept this in exchange?'

'But--' I gasped, 'That watch is probably worth more than this house! I cannot take it from you!'

'It would just be temporary, until I can return the clothing to you. In exchange for my disguise, I would ask you to keep the watch clean and undamaged, and to turn it three times every morning. Never let the watch run out of time. It is very important that you do that. Can you keep this promise for me?'

'I-- I suppose. But when will you return?' I asked, as I helped the man out of his ragged clothes, dressed the wound poorly but quickly, and helped him into one of my mother's dresses that was due for a patching and wouldn't be missed. I threw a warm wool shawl around his shoulders, and drew my own bonnet around his head.

'As soon as I can, I shall return. There are figures from my past who wish to haunt me, but once I have thrown them off the chase for good, I will come back here to rest my bones. For too long I have traveled. And-- I like this town. I would like to settle here... perhaps even marry.'

He looked at me and my heart leaped in its cage. I knew in that moment that this man I had met only weeks ago was someone I could spend the rest of my life with.

'I will wait for you.' I said. 'I will keep your watch.'
Then, he unbarred the door, peeked out, crept off into the night, and was gone.' "
                                                                 ~~~

"So...that's it?" I ask. "End of the story?"

The old woman rustles around on her cushion.

"Not quite... You see, the man didn't return for many months. I kept the watch faithfully for a long time, polishing it with a special cloth and winding it dutifully every morning. But I grew impatient waiting for my dapper stranger to return, and angry with him-- for, never in all the time we knew each other had he told me his name. All I had to go on were the initials on the back of this watch. They could be his, or they could be anyone's. He could have stolen it from someone. Much as I had been enthralled by his character, I really didn't know anything about him. He could be a thief, or a vagabond, or a wanted murderer...

 "And the months turned into years and I grew tired of staying in the shop, tired of getting up every morning to wind the clock and mend things for my mother, whose eyesight was beginning to fail, when I could be out with other young folk my age, dancing and laughing and seeing the world. I felt like I was in a prison, a slowly constricting cage. So, one morning, I left my younger cousin, whom I had been training, with the customers, packed my bags, slipped the watch onto a chain and hung it about my neck, and set out to see the world. I left a note with my cousin, should the stranger return, saying that I was still upholding my side of the bargain, but that if he wanted his watch returned he would have to come and find me.

"And, my, did I travel! I could tell you such stories of the world, and the things I've seen... But soon I met a young man my own age, who worked for the railroad, and we fell in love. We were practically destitute, but desperately wanted to start off a life together, and so I sold the watch, and all my past hopes and dreams, to pay for a little cottage by a lake. There we made our new home, far away from the bustling cities and the hectic new world outside our windows. But one night soon after, when my husband was out with his lantern gathering wood for the winter, a strange figure came to the door...

He walked with a limp, and labored breath, and I could hear the tap of his cane all the way along the stone path to the door. As he reached up to knock, I yanked open the door, fear getting the better of me, and whispered fiercely, 'What do you want? I've got a gun, and I'm not afraid to use it. Speak up!'

The man's hand dropped. He spoke in a slow, weary voice: 'I've come to repay old debts.'

I knew it was the distinguished gentleman, but I was afraid, because I had not kept my side of the promise. I ushered him inside and pretended to be curious of all that had passed, asking of his travels and how he had enjoyed the spring. But after a time, he sighed and, leaning forward, took off his battered straw hat. His clothes were that of a poor farmhand, his motions ancient, and yet I swear the man's face had not changed from the day I met him as a little girl. Now I was a woman, and we were nearly matched in appearance, yet I knew that he must have aged somehow. He still carried the gold-tipped cane, which he tapped on the floor as he told me:

'You don't have it, do you, Costume Lady?'

Not a question, but a sad statement of what he already knew.

'You gave it away long ago. You had no faith in me.'

'No! I did wait! I did trust you, but I waited so long, and you did not come! I only recently gave your watch away to pay for a new life for myself. I had to-- I had nothing else!'

'Nor did I,' the man replied, and the sorrow in his voice tore at my heart. A single tear spilled down his cheek as he rose and gathered up his battered coat and hat. 'I had hoped-- but it does not matter now. I have nothing left. The watch is lost. Someone some morning will forget to wind it, or already has, and it will slowly and inexorably wind down until it stops, and that will be the end of it all...Still, I suppose that is a fitting end, for a traitor...' Then he left.

"I wished I could have said something to cure his pain, wish he could have told me more so I could help in some way, but he did not. His trust in me had already been broken, and though we were yet strangers, I felt like a very valuable connection had been lost...

I went on to have many more adventures. Though my husband and I never had children, we traveled a great deal, and told our stories to relatives' children when we had time. Then, one day I was in a small antique shop, and I came upon the watch. Old, battered as you see it now, but the same watch, to be sure. I snatched it up and bought it. For a very meager price, considering what it had once been worth; for the surface was scratched and, as you see, the inner workings have stopped functioning.

I tried to wind it once, but it is hard-fastened inside, and will not heed my touch. I am an old woman now, alone but for my work. I have lived long, and been full. Yet, now I think on it, I wish I could go back and reverse my decision. I would take all the life I've lived, back to that moment, just to see him once more, to learn more about him...I wonder if his life was truly bound up in that watch. I've seen stranger things. But-- it hurts to think I might have unknowingly killed that strange and lovely man."

I look down at the watch, which I have been fingering and turning over in my hands ever since the story began. The outline of the Phoenix has such very vivid eyes...

"Madame Costume Lady...what if...the watch could be mended? What do you think would happen then?"

"Well, I--" she pauses, hand to her lips. "I must admit I hadn't thought of that. If it starts ticking once more...But I must say, I've no idea what would happen. Do you-- do you know someone who might fix it?"

"I think I could do it myself," I respond, prying gently at the catch and gazing intently at the watch-face. "I have always been a bit of a tinkerer, and I have certain...abilities which could help me remove any unseen obstructions to the mechanisms, though I must admit I've never worked on so small a scale before...Would you mind if I gave it a try?"

"Couldn't hurt, I suppose." the trading woman says slowly, trying to keep the hope out of her voice. "At the very least, you'd get a working watch instead of a broken one."

I stand up, and go into the back pavilion where no one outside can see me. The old woman follows, drawing the curtain closed. I lay the watch down on the dressing-room bench, and crouch before it, my arm outstretched in the air above it. I close my eyes and try to find the inner workings with my mind-- which is no easy feat, even for the friend of a very powerful psychic. I'd ask Amanda for her help, but I want to do this one on my own-- and also, she's at school right now. I feel there is something very big, and dark, lodged in the gears and mechanisms of the tiny clock. If I can just dislodge and remove it, without snapping or bending any of the tiny little pieces...then...maybe...

Slowly, and painstakingly, I remove the substance, beckoning it outward ever so gently outward with my fingers and mind. I feel the gears straining against it, the freer they get, and as I pull out the last of the darkness, my mind resounds with the swish of motion and the THUD of one great Tick. I open my eyes, and pull my arm away from the watch. It has started working again.

The old woman is gazing fervently at the watch. Almost as if she is willing herself to see the inside as well, to see some sign of the man she still dreams of in the dark of rainy Oregon nights...

And then a finger taps her on the shoulder. A glowing man in a silver dragon waistcoat stands in the doorway of the dressing room, a worn silk tophat in the crook of his arm.

The trader gives a cry of delight and shock, and rushes forward to the man. He takes her hands. She looks up onto his eyes and stammers, "H-Have you come for your watch? I have it here, if that is what you want." She totters over to the bench and gently lifts the watch, and proffers it to the glowing gentleman- but he denies it.

"No, Costume Lady. It is yours to keep, for you have freed me from its curse at last. I was doomed by a man long ago to live my life in tandem with its gears, forever, guarding it and my secret from those around me, cursed to live forever but surrounded by enemies. But now my soul is free, and I may give up this life and this prison. I am forever indebted to you, and hold no grievance for what has passed long ago." He takes his hat, and places it on the Costume Lady's head. "I have it in my power to grant you one wish, as it might be called, before I go. What would you desire?"

The Costume Lady clutches the collar of her dress in a dizzy haze of happiness and tears. She looks up at the man. "Don't go. Stay with me, at least until the end of my life. I have searched and longed for you all my youth. Do not part from me in my age, now that I have found you."

He smiles, and brushes her cheek gently. "It shall be as you wish."

 The man's glow brightens to a flash, and standing next to the old trader is a handsome grey-haired man. He traded his watch-energy for a last few years in mortality, to spend with the one he loved. As they move to embrace, I sneak out the back of the tent and wander through the rest of the mall, to finish uneventfully a wonderful shopping experience.