Who: Kaspar and Isabel What: Awkward encounters of the third kind Where: The Rose Company (warehouse) When: 10:45, Monday, October 1st
Isabel’s lunch break was still an hour away, but after a too-light breakfast and spending two hours in the budding fall chill waiting for her puppy to do its business, she was absolutely famished. Luckily she was alone in the office, Mr. Rose having called to say he would be late following an important brunch at his country club.
What important business the owner of a historical costume company could be doing at a country club, Isabel had no idea. Perhaps its members were avid Civil War reenactors?
Being alone suited Isabel just fine, except when her drawers proved to conceal no treats and the vending machine in the lobby downstairs ate her money without spitting out so much as a single chocolate bar. Kicking and smacking it with the flat of her palm returned neither money nor snack, so a disgruntled Isabel went in search of the staff room.
The Rose Company seemed to employ more mannequins than people. As she made her way down the narrow hallways into the bowels of the enterprise, Isabel couldn’t help think that this wouldn’t make a bad horror movie set. From there, it was a short journey to the first stirrings of dread as she moved between blank-faced redcoats and French lieutenants (Mr. Rose had pointed out their insignia last week), flappers and Pinkertons. Her heart began to race for no good reason at all. It was preposterous to think these mannequins might suddenly come to life; this wasn’t Westworld and she wasn’t some evil scientist.
Still, Isabel found herself walking faster, glancing over her shoulder more, only vaguely certain that she was headed in the right direction when the sound of footsteps seemed to confirm her utterly irrational fears. When she saw something--no, someone--move up ahead, all reason fled. Isabel yelped and promptly careered into the waiting arms of a historically-accurate 16th century Spanish explorer, who was no match for her human bulk and flailing arms. Plate armor flew every which way, clattering as it fell. As the dust cleared, Isabel found herself atop the stunned-looking mannequin, the footfalls coming her way alerting her that she was no longer alone.