No Visitors Beyond This Point (A Short Story) - 2009

This story was written for submission to an anthology of stories that all had to be written based on the line "No Visitors Beyond This Point". It was not selected for inclusion.

The room was sterile – bright white, expansive, and virtually empty.  A few cheap black and silver metal chairs dot the edge of one wall.  Suddenly, a short, thin man with thinning grey hair approaches from a hallway at the back of the room.

“Hello there!  It’s wonderful to see you.  We haven’t had company in ages.”  He reaches out a bony liver-spotted hand to you.  He has a surprisingly strong grip.

“I’m Harvey Frankel.  Come sit, we’ll talk.”  You eye him skeptically, looking around the room for the exit.  Harvey still has a hold of your hand so he pulls you gently towards one of the chairs.

“Sit, sit!  I’ll stand.  I could use the stretch.  You know I was an accountant.  A good one.  But I never really became rich.  My wife never really forgave me for that.  She was expecting more, but I think we had enough.”

You start to interrupt him, but you hesitate because he looks so happy to be telling you this.

“I have a daughter, Devorah, and a son, Adam.  Devorah went to college out in Arizona, she met her husband there and now they run a sporting goods store.  They have two girls, Anna and Olivia.  Adam, he’s not done as well.  He went to school to be an accountant, like his old Pop, but he started drinking too much.  My wife doesn’t like to talk about him.  But I’m still proud to be his Pop – he’s got a good heart.  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen either of them, my kids.”

You make a sympathetic face, but begin to stand up.  “I really should be…”

Harvey puts his hand up to stop you.  “What’s the rush?  I want you to meet Rose here.”

For the first time, you notice a plump, dark-haired woman standing there watching the two of you patiently.  Harvey begins the introductions.

“Rose, I want you to meet…  I’m sorry.  I forgot your name.  What did you say your name was?”

You shake your head.  “I didn’t say…”

“Hello.  I’m Rose D’angelo.  It’s nice to meet you.”  You accept her outstretched hand graciously.

“I see Harvey’s been talking your ear off.  He’s like that.  We don’t get company very often…”

“I said that already, Rose.” Harvey interjected.  Rose smiles faintly.

“I suppose he’s also told you all about his job and his family.”  Now, it’s your turn to smile back.  Rose sighs heavily.

“I won’t bore you with those kinds of details.  I’d rather talk about food.  I was known to have quite a flare for cooking.  And eating…” she said, gesturing at her ample girth.  “What’s your favorite dish?”

You pause, anxious to find your way back out of this room but afraid to alienate the people who can help you.  “I’m not that particular.”

“Who doesn’t have a favorite dish?” Rose asks Harvey, who is playing with a loose string on his sweater. 

“You know I love your lasagna, Rose.”  Harvey winks at Rose; she begins to flush.

“It was really nice meeting you, but I really think I ought to be…” you begin, finally rising to your feet.

Harvey and Rose pay you no mind.  They’ve begun a slow dance to the off-key tune that Harvey is humming. 

“Do you think you could tell me…”

“Alright, you two!  You’ve had enough fun at our friend’s expense.”  You turn to find you’ve been joined by a petite woman, the color of caramel, dressed in a nurse’s uniform.

“Oh!  Thank you.  I was beginning to think…”

“That no one would help you?  Yes, yes.  Of course.  Harvey and Rose are quite the characters, aren’t you?”

“We’ve just been making small talk, Francie.  No harm in that, is there?” Harvey asked with a coy smile.

Francie crooked her head to one side.  “There’s no need to ignore our friend’s questions in favor of small talk,” she said sternly.  Rose looked at her feet, cheeks flaming red. 

You feel bad that Rose seems embarrassed and you really hadn’t wanted Harvey and Rose to get in trouble with the staff, but you feel a huge sense of relief that Francie is going to help you.

“As I was saying, I was hoping that someone could show me the way back out of here.  I seem to have gotten a bit lost…”

Francie exchanged a look with Harvey and Rose.  “Walk with me over here,” she said, pointing to a door on the wall opposite.  Strange how you hadn’t noticed it before.

You oblige her, Harvey and Rose following closely behind.  “See that sign just there?”

No visitors beyond this point. -    The Management

"So, do I have to go back through the hallway over there…” you say, turning to look behind you.  Instead, you find the room has four solid walls.  Your knees feel weak.  “But I swear there was a hallway.”

Francie takes a hold of your wrist.  You think she is going to check your pulse, you must look faint.  “Are you beginning to see, dear?  No visitors beyond this point.”

Harvey puts his hand on your shoulder.  “It’s not really that bad.  You get used to it here.”

Rose nods her head in agreement.  “It helps to have good company.”

“I don’t understand.  I don’t belong here.”

“Oh, but you do.  We all do,” Rose said.

“But I’m not crazy.  I’m not old.  I don’t belong here…”

“Who said anything about being old or crazy?” laughed Harvey.

“Can you please check my pulse?”

Francie frowned.  “There’s no need to.”

“But I feel… I feel...  I feel nothing.  I am dead, aren’t I?”  With three gentle smiles, your questions were finally answered.