Sometimes, when I’m out shooting photos I come across places that intrigue my curiosity, my imagination.
I wonder about these places, … about
a forest and the animals that live in it,
a house and the people that own it,
a staircase, and those who climb it up …
Then, stories plop into my brain, characters evolve, and my imagination starts to come up with stories.
Sometimes I’m smart enough to write them down.
Bob Stromberg, an author and comedian calls these incidents ‘grabs’ and he taught me to interrogate them, write them down, and see if they make it into one of my stories or books.
While we strolled through the Old Town of San Jose on the beautiful island of Puerto Rico I shot a picture of this staircase and it became one of these places, and my ‘grab’ made it into the following story – The old staircase.
Enjoy!
The Old Staircase
There it was, the familiar, old staircase!
The colors of the tiles were still vibrant, after all these years. The tile in the middle of the second step was broken.
Camilla lumbered along the wall, took the last few steps and stopped. She put her hand on the railing and tried to catch her breath. Her back was hurting.
How often had she climbed the stairs? Breathing was hard these days. With a groan, she put her heavy grocery bag on the second step. Fumbling in the right pocket of her black coat she extracted the little blue handkerchief with her initials on it to wipe her face.
She raised her head and stared up the stairs, fixed her eyes on the little blue door.
The door that lead to their apartment.
The door that lead to the unpreventable.
In the 40 years she has lived here she never could have imagined that there would be a day that she didn’t want to go through that door.
The first day she saw this staircase and that blue door was a happy day. Forty years, thirty-six weeks and three days ago Tony had led her to this staircase. He was almost running, pulling her behind him.
“This will be our home!” He’d said, his face beaming. She smiled thinking about that day.
She loved that man to the moon, and back!
So much that her heart ached when she thought about him now.
Two weeks later they had married in the little church down the street. After the party Tony had carried her up the thirty-four steps to the apartment. She had laughed, because his face had turned awfully red by the time they had gotten to the little blue door. But he had been determined to carry her over the threshold. And he had done exactly that.
They had been mostly happy in this apartment.
Sure, there had been tough days. Days of desperation and grief, when the war had started or she had lost their first child. Days of poverty, when Tony had lost his job. But mostly there had been days of happiness. They had brought up three boys in that little home, Roberto, Nicolas and Luis. They had all grown into great men, having their own families now. She and Tony were proud of each one of them.
What was there to complain about?
Today, there was no Tony to carry her up the stairs, she had to make the journey herself. And at the end of the stairs she would open the little blue door and she would tell Tony the disturbing news. She had to tell him, what he didn’t want to hear.
She gathered her bag and pulled herself up the steps. It was a painstaking journey. Not only because her back and her knees hurt, but also because of the pain in her hammering heart.
The pain that she had to tell Tony the bitter truth that they had to sell the apartment.
Finally, she reached the little blue door.
The second she put the key in the keyhole, the door opened from the inside. Tony stood in front of her. His face was beaming. She just stared at him, trying to catch her breath. Tears were pooling in her eyes.
How could she tell him the news, if he was so happy?
Tony took the bag from her hand, put it on the floor, and scooped her up in a big hug, swung her around.
“Camilla, Camilla!” he chanted.
“Tony, are you crazy?” she screamed in surprise. “Let me down!” She patted his back.
Laughing, he let her down, cautiously.
“What makes you so happy?” She managed to say, pulling down her clothes, trying to get back her composure.
“Haha,” he laughed and replied, “Roberto called!”
As if that would explain everything. Camilla shrugged her shoulders and looked at him with big eyes, “And?”
Tony was still grinning like a cat sitting in whipped cream. Camilla grew impatient with him looking so smug.
As she was about to say something, he finally replied, “He bought a house, and he wants us to live with him!”
Stunned, Camilla stared at the man she loved.
A ton of weight fell off her chest. She stumbled backwards, leaned against the wall, and in relief she slid down that wall and laughed. She laughed until she could no longer breathe.
What a happy day.
How about you? Did you ‘see’ any stories when you saw the staircase picture? Tell me about it in the comments…