The Stairway Stories

Looking back, she could never quite remember how she’d first gotten there; of course, she was very small. She might have been born there, but if that were so, she had no idea who her parents had been. She had a very dim recollection of being carried there, but she had no idea at all who had taken her or where she’d been taken from. It really didn’t matter now, she decided.

She lived in a very dark place. There were parts of it that were so dark that she couldn’t see what was in them at all; she tried to avoid these places. She spent most of her time exploring; going down all the rooms and passages to see what she could find. She named each room after what she found there. One was the water room, where there was a large pool of water that she could drink from in safety; another was an eating room, where there were many boxes and bags of things to eat. Some were shut up so tightly that she couldn’t get into them, and many were spoiled, but she could usually find a little something there.

But none of the food she could find was really any good, and she always felt very thin and hungry.

There seemed to be many different sorts of creatures living in the different rooms, but she didn’t know many of them. Often when she entered a room she would hear feet scramble and scurry away, and at times, in an extra dark corner, she would hear heavy breathing, and feel that some large creature was hiding there. This frightened her, and she never asked who they were, but hurried along, and on their part they offered no words to her. She often saw spiders in webs very high in the corners, and sometimes rats. There was one large, old rat with a very long tail that she saw now and again, but he never stopped to speak to her. The only creature that she really got a chance to talk to at all was Fidget.

He lived in the stairway room. Fidget wasn’t, as far as she knew, his real name; it was what she called him, for lack of any other name. He called her ‘my pretty’; if she ever had a name she didn’t know what it was. When she was lonely she would make her way to the stairway room, to see if he was there.

This room was quite dark. It seemed to be filled with broken furniture of various kinds; odd shadows in the darkness. In the far corner was a narrow stairway, disappearing down into the cellars, and Fidget usually sat near its head. As she could see very little in this room, she couldn’t say much about what Fidget looked like. He seemed to be about her size, or a bit smaller. He had very large, light eyes, long thin arms, and sharp little teeth. She could say nothing else for certain beyond that. Fidget was not always home, and she well remembered the day that she found out where he went. She had felt lonely, and went to the stairway room to find him. He was in his usual place, at the top of the stairs, watching and waiting. She slowly made her way through the ruined furniture toward him, but she always stayed well out of reach, for there was something about him she didn’t like, and didn’t really trust. But she had no one else to talk to.

"Good evening, my pretty," said Fidget, in his slow voice, rocking back and forth on his bony knuckles. He never sat still; that was how she had chosen his name.

"Good evening, Fidget," she said, "how are you today?"

"Fine, my pretty, fine." he said, rocking back and forth and watching her intently.

"I’m glad to find you home," she offered.

"I shall not be here long," said Fidget "I must go away soon."

""Where are you going?" she asked curiously.

"Downstairs."

"What’s downstairs?" she asked.

"Lot’s of things, my pretty;" said Fidget, trembling and licking his teeth with his long tongue. "Dark things; strange things; things that Fidget likes." He broke into his wide, wicked smile; a smile that she didn’t like, and she moved back a step.

"I wouldn’t like those things," she said. "Why do you go down there?"

"I must," said Fidget, reaching up and grasping the handrail. "Fidget must have dark things. They call to Fidget. Their masters call to him."

"Who are their masters?"

"Great creatures," said Fidget, and trembled. "Fidget cannot see them well, for it is all dark there, but he can feel them. They have kingdoms down there. Their breath is warm and foul. They have other names for your Fidget; names I am not allowed to tell."

"What is your real name?" she asked.

"What’s yours?"

"I don’t know," she said honestly, "no one ever told me."

"You have no real name," said Fidget, as he moved to the top of the stairs. "you only have the names that someone gives you. None of us know our real names." He paused, and looked her over slowly. "Do you want to come with Fidget?"

"No," she said, and took another step back. "It looks dark and scary."

"It is, my pretty," he said wickedly, "very dark and very scary. "Fidget was afraid, when he first went down. But now he must go; he cannot stay away. You will come down with Fidget some day."

"I shall never go down there," she said.

"You will," said Fidget, "when you grown too lonely and empty to stay here any more. You will come to Fidget, and he will take you down; you will cling to him, my pretty, and be very scared, but you will go. And you will be like Fidget;

then you will have to keep coming." He laughed wickedly, and she kept backing away. He turned and began slowly going down the stairs, clinging to the rail with his thin arms.