Hazel didn’t like spiders. It was just something about the way they moved. They were always scuttling around on those hairy legs of theirs, slipping into cracks in the walls or beneath dusty tables. It didn’t help that the antique shop was full of them. Hazel’s obnoxious uncle Gabe, the owner of the shop, barely cleaned the place, leaving Hazel to clear the cobwebs in his absence.
Hardly anyone ever came into the shop, anyway. Hazel didn’t blame them. Gabe was a rude, cheap man who put every dime earned from the shop toward his gambling habit. He was horrible to his wife, Hazel’s aunt Mary, constantly yelling at her to clean up all the empty beer cans he left lying around. Aunt Mary put up with him for the most part, but Hazel had caught her at night covering up the bruises on her arms. Hazel wished her parents hadn’t forced her to spend the entire summer working at Gabe’s antique shop. She hated every second of it.
“Hey.” Gabe’s grating voice reached Hazel’s ears. “Make sure you sweep the floor. You forgot last night.”
Hazel didn’t even look up from the spider she was watching. “Sure.”
“Did you hear me?” Gabe asked, the stench of cigarettes filling the air as he moved closer. “I’m talking to you.”
Hazel yelped when he grabbed her hair and gave it a sharp tug. She whipped around angrily, glaring at her foul faced uncle.
“I heard you,” she said, with a scowl. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he leered. “I’ll be back at nine.”
She watched him amble out of the shop with contempt on her face. If she could, she would wish Gabe straight out of existence. As she turned back to the desk, aunt Mary’s voice rang out from the other side of the room.
“Don’t pay him any attention,” Mary said, a resigned look on her face. “He’s like that sometimes.”
“He’s like that all the time,” Hazel frowned.
Mary simply sighed and picked up her bag. “I have some errands to run. Will you watch the shop?”
Hazel agreed. The shop was quiet for the most part. It wasn’t too bad of a place whenever Gabe wasn’t around. Hours passed by in which Hazel spent her time with her nose in a book. She had just put down her current novel to squash another spider when the bell at the door tinkled. Hazel glanced up from the desk to see a tall, stone-faced man enter the shop. He wore a knee length trench coat made of thick, dark fabric. There was a serious look in his eye as he approached the front desk.
“Good evening,” He said, briskly. “I’m looking for something.”
“Sure, what can I help you with?” Hazel asked, politely.
“Have you seen a ring?” The man asked.
Hazel blinked. “A ring? Well, we have a rather large selection of rings if you’d like to see them—”
“No, I’ve lost my ring,” the man said, impatiently. “It’s large, very old, and incredibly valuable. Have you seen it?”
Hazel furrowed her brows in annoyance. He could’ve been describing any of the rings here in the shop. She heaved a sigh and led the man over to a glass case holding the shop’s ancient, ornate jewelry.
“Here are the rings we have in our collection,” she said. “No one’s brought in anything new recently, though. Is the one you’re looking for here?”
“No, no, none of these,” the man said, with a troubled look on his face. He pulled out a small piece of paper and scrawled down a phone number. “If you come across an old ring with a ruby in the middle, please let me know. And do not, under any circumstances, put it on.”
Don’t put it on? How odd. What would be so bad about putting a ring on? Hazel watched the man hurry out of the store and into the darkening streets. Quite frankly, she didn’t really care about a ring and she most definitely didn’t have any interest in looking for it. Still, she thought she would tell her aunt Mary about it later.
It was that same night that Hazel found herself walking down the streets of the old town, sent on an errand by Gabe. Leave it to him to forget to buy groceries and make Hazel do it. Luckily, the convenience store was open late. She was just leaving with her newly purchased milk carton when the door swung open and knocked the milk right out of her hands.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear!” said a hasty voice. Hazel looked up to see an elderly woman bending down to retrieve the fallen milk carton. “I’m so clumsy these days, here you go.”
“That’s alright,” said Hazel, taking the carton from her. Something scarlet flashed in the florescent light of the store and Hazel realized the woman was wearing an ornate ring with a large ruby sitting in the groove.
“Have a good night, now,” She said, patting Hazel on the shoulder before hobbling past her into the store.
Hazel opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it. It must be a coincidence. There were probably hundreds of people with old, ruby encrusted rings. Besides, Hazel had no way to prove that the old woman was wearing a ring that didn’t belong to her. Even more so, was Hazel even sure that was the ring the mysterious man had been talking about?
She went home that night dismissing the thought. Honestly, she didn’t care enough about this stupid ring to think about it anymore. Yet, one day later, Hazel saw the same old woman’s face in the daily newspaper. She had died in a terrible car crash and left all her belongings to her grandson. If Hazel thought that was unfortunate, it shocked her even more to hear that the old lady’s grandson drowned in the lake a few days later. In the newspaper photograph, Hazel recognized the same ruby ring on his lifeless hand. Her suspicions had begun to grow from that point on, but it wasn’t until she saw a newscast about the death of the grandson’s wife that she began to wonder whether something strange was going on. The reporter was wearing a very familiar ruby ring on her finger.
Hazel silently hoped that the strange man from earlier would recollect his ring. If that was indeed the ruby encrusted band he had been talking about, bad luck seemed to follow it everywhere. Actually, all the people who wore it…seemed to end up dead.
It was a rainy evening when the door of the antique shop opened again. Hazel looked up to see a disheveled woman with sopping wet hair slip through the door. Her eyes were wide, like she’d just seen a ghost. Hazel thought she looked familiar. A little bit like that reporter from yesterday’s newscast.
“Can I help you with something?” Hazel asked.
The woman jumped. “Oh, no! No, just looking.”
Hazel nodded and leaned back in her seat. The woman disappeared behind one of the shelves. Hazel expected her to buy something, but the woman did not stay long at all. Not five minutes after she had arrived, she was already out the door. Hazel watched her go with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.
That night, Gabe returned with the usual aroma of smoke. Hazel didn’t bother to say hello. He went straight into the back room and she soon heard his angry voice echoing through the walls as he yelled at Mary for god knows what. There was a resounding smack shortly after and Hazel squeezed her eyes shut in anguish, trying to focus on the book in front of her.
“What did I tell you before?” Gabe’s voice rang out as he stepped back into the main room. “You didn’t sweep the damn floor!”
Hazel jumped, realizing he was talking to her. “Sorry. I’ll do it now—”
“Don’t bother,” Gabe snarled. “I have to do everything here myself.”
Hazel’s blood boiled as Gabe snatched up the broom and began sweeping the floor. This was probably the first time she’d ever seen him clean anything in the shop.
“Well, look-y here,” Gabe said, with a sudden perk in his voice. “Good thing you didn’t sweep. You would’ve stolen this for yourself, huh?”
Hazel turned to find him holding a large, shimmering ring in his hand. Her stomach flipped over. It couldn’t be. That other woman that had come in just a few minutes before, could she have left it?
“It’s probably worth a fortune, don’t you think?” Gabe asked, turning the ring over between his fingers. “I think I’ll keep it.”
Hazel’s pulse quickened as Gabe slowly slid the ring onto his finger. He admired it for a moment before letting out a short laugh. He looked up at her with a nasty grin on his face.
“Looks pretty good on me, right?” He sneered. “Fit for a king.”
Hazel stared back at him for a moment, holding her breath. Thoughts raced through her head, followed by rippling anger. Then, she exhaled.
“Yes,” she said coldly. “It suits you.”
Then Hazel flipped open her book and kept reading.
