"I'm sure you'll find this apartment very well suited to your needs, dearie." The old woman cackled as she led the dark haired young woman up the rickety stairs. "It's close to the bus line and has all you'll ever need."
"Thank you, I'm sure it will be fine." Sylvia answered as she followed down the dimly lit hall. They stopped at a door with a paint covered three on it and the key turned in the lock.
The open door revealed a brightly lit living room with an overstuffed easy chair to the left of the door. Immediately across the room was a small, tan, sofa with a glass top coffee table in front of it.
The old woman walked down through the next doorway and continued, "And in here is the kitchen, small, but adequate and this door leads to the......."
She turned as she realized Sylvia was no longer with her. She shuffled back to the living room where she found Sylvia standing in front of the sofa, staring at a painting on the wall.
"You like that picture? Dearie," she smiled. It wasn't anything special as paintings go. The frame was obviously very old, but still in good condition, with no peeling or cracking evident.
The painting itself was an ocean view, with a wide sandy beach and several waves breaking along it. The sand was white and smooth, the water was blue. In the background, the blue sky had several puffy, white clouds. That's all there was.
"What a strangely attractive painting," Sylvia said lowly, "is it yours?"
"No, not mine, it belonged to a young woman who lived here before you."
"I wonder why she didn't take it with her? Sylvia asked.
"I don't rightly know, she moved unexpectedly. I saw her come home one night about three weeks ago, saw her in the hallway I did, she looked terrible. I tried to console her, but she said her mother had just passed on. Poor dearie. She went up to the apartment, and the next morning she was gone."
"Do you think she went home? Sylvia asked.
"Don't rightly know, if she did, she left in the middle of the night and left most of her stuff, including the painting. Well, Dearie, if you need anything just give a call. I live right down the hall."
"Thank you, Mrs. Martin. I'm sure I'll be just fine, good night."
The door closed behind the old woman and Sylvia was left alone. She lifted her small suitcase and went into the bedroom. Suddenly she realized she was very tired and layed on the bed with her mind racing with the happenings of the last few days.
Sylvia was a college student when she met Don. He was tall, dark and handsome, everything she had ever dreamed about. They fell in love at first sight. She never finished her degree, even though there was just a short time to go. Don insisted they get married, and she was entirely ready. It was a marriage made in heaven, she never dreamed there was such happiness. It lasted only eight months, and Don was killed in an automobile accident on the way home from work. It was a devastating time for Sylvia. The apartment they shared held too many memories, so she let it go and decided to finish college. Don left her with a large insurance settlement, but some things money just can't replace so, here she was, with an apartment near the college and a heart full of pain.
Sylvia opened her eyes. It took a moment to realize where she was.
"What was that noise?" She wondered. "It sounds like waves, but that can't be, there is no ocean within 50 miles."
She rose from the bed and walked toward the sound. It was coming from the living room. As she entered it ceased, leaving her standing in silence looking at the painting.
A strange peace came over her as she stared at the waves coming onto the smooth, sandy beach. She had a longing to walk down the beach and feel the sand under her feet. Time lost all meaning as she stared at the waves.
She became aware of a knocking and finally realized it was coming from her door. Sylvia blinked several times, then turned and opened the door.
Mrs. Martin was standing there with a steaming pan. "Didn't figure you had any groceries yet, so here's a pan of hot soup, dearie, thought you might like it."
The woman walked right past Sylvia, into the kitchen and placed the pan on the small stove.
"Why yes, thank you, Mrs. Martin, "that is very kind of you. I am terribly hungry."
Mrs. Martin proceeded to open a cupboard door and brought out a soup bowl. As she placed it on the table she motioned towards the small drawer in the side. "You will find silverware in there." As she poured soup into the bowl.
Sylvia selected a spoon from the contents of the drawer and sat down before the steaming bowl.
"Thank you, that sure smells good."
"Good, don't worry about the pan, I'll get it later. Have a good sleep and tomorrow will be a better day. Goodnight dearie." The old woman closed the door behind her.
The soup was as good as it smelled and had a calming effect on Sylvia.
She placed the empty dish in the sink and turned off the lights. She made her way to the living room for one last look at the painting, then went to bed, where she tossed and turned, even though dead tired.
Every time she drifted off to sleep, the painting flooded into her thoughts. It was swallowing her up. The waves were engulfing her. Once she sat bolt up right in bed and screamed. After assuring herself it had been only a dream, Sylvia snuggled back down into the covers and drifted into restless sleep.
She tried to pretend her dear husband was laying alongside, holding her in his strong arms. The tears fell from her cheeks, wet the pillow case, then rolled onto the bed, leaving tiny, stains where they landed on the sheet. The faint sound of waves lapping on a beach leaked from around the bedroom door. She tried to shut out the sound at first, but it became louder and louder. Soon, the whole apartment was filled with the intense sound of waves rolling onto a beach. Sylvia sat up and as if in a trance walked to the painting. Her eyes grew wide with horror! "What! it can't be!"
Don was standing in the water up to his knees, smiling and motioning for her to join him. Sylvia screamed "No! That's impossible, you're dead!"
The form in the painting disappeared and the waves stopped. She was left standing, shaking in front of the painting, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. She stumbled over and opened it. How reassuring it was to see the friendly face of Mrs. Martin. She was standing there in her robe.
"I thought I heard a scream, are you all right, dearie?" She asked.
"Yes... I think so, now." Sylvia stammered, "did you hear the waves?"
"Waves, What waves?" The older woman looked puzzled. Sylvia didn't try to explain, "Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Martin, I must've had a bad dream. I... I'm all right now."
"Okay dearie, remember I'm just down the hall."
Soon, Sylvia was back in bed and sleeping fitfully. The first signs of dawn tinted the sky red and orange, and leap through the window. The end of the first night with the painting.
Silvia awoke with the first light of day. She felt as if she hadn't slept at all. The fact of which was truer than she knew. In spite of the lack of sleep, she got dressed and went out.
She had an appointment with the admissions department of the small college where she planned to attend, and she didn't want to be late. She tried to avoid looking at the painting, but, couldn't help a glance at it one time, as the door closed. She was sure the waves were moving.
" I must be imagining things." the young woman thought as she descended the stairs. "Paintings don't come to life."
She pondered these things waiting for the bus, at the place Mrs. Martin had told her. It wasn't a long wait and soon she was underway to the college. All her papers were in order, and after a stop the corner store, Sylvia was on the way back to the apartment and the painting.
Sylvia didn't know why but she felt a great loneliness while away from the little apartment. She found herself growing very excited at prospect of seeing the painting again.
"This is crazy!" Sylvia muttered as she went up the stairs, "paintings don't come to life!"
Her hand trembled as she unlocked the door. It was open just a crack and she heard it. The sound of waves! This time, she wasn't frightened by the sound, in fact, she rather expected it and felt comforted by it. The sound of waves crashing on a sandy beach filled the rooms as she made a sandwich, poured a glass of milk, and made her way into the living room.
At first she sat in the chair by the door, but the urge to get closer was overpowering, and soon, she was on the sofa, looking up at the waves as they crashed into the beach. The longer she watched the larger the painting became, and soon, the sofa was gone, and she was lying on the sandy beach. Oh, such peace she felt! It was wonderful!
Suddenly, it was all gone. Sylvia was again on the sofa, and someone was knocking at the door. Slowly, she got up and opened the door. It was Mrs. Martin again. "Why can't she just leave me alone?" Sylvia thought as she opened the door.
"Hello, dearie, I didn't see you come in and wanted to see if everything was all right." The woman walked right in.
"Oh yes, Mrs. Martin, I'm just fine today. Thank you for your concern."
"That's ok dearie, us single gals got to stick together...." the old woman's gaze fell to Sylvia's side.
"My Lord, you've got sand or something all over your clothes!"
Sylvia look down and brushed at her side. " Oh yes, I must've brushed against something on the way home."
She took the elderly woman gently by the arm and headed her out the door.
" Well, thank you for concern, Mrs. Martin. If I need anything I'll call you. Have a good afternoon."
She closed the door and locked it.
The waves started again, as soon as the door was locked, but this time they were different.
Sylvia heard a voice calling from the waves. She looked again and again her eyes grew wide.
Don was standing in the water up to his knees, smiling and waving for her to join him. This time she heard his voice, " Sylvia, I love you. Come to me, come to me." His voice called. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and landed not on the carpet, but on the sandy beach under her feet.
"Oh, Don, I love you too, but I'm so afraid."
"Don't be afraid, my dearest, just come to me. Let me hold you again!"
"Oh yes, I'm coming my darling, I'm coming."
The elderly woman shuffled to the phone. It was the College, wondering why Sylvia hadn't come to class on the first day. Mrs. Martin asked them to hold, she would go check on the young woman. She shuffled down the hall and knocked on the door. No answer.
" I wonder if she might be sick." She muttered and used her master key in the door.
" Hello, hello, are you there?" She looked into each empty room.
Mrs. Martin muttered as she walked back to the door, " Darn kids, move out in the middle of the night and never say a word! Well, I'll just put up the for rent sign again. Maybe I'll get a young man. They are more stable sometimes than these young women."
The door closed and the waves rolled gently onto the sandy beach slowly erasing the footprints leading to the water's edge.