The Walking Shoes

Every year it happens. The summer solstice arrives on or near June 21 and marks the longest day of the year. The summer solstice is when the sun in the northern hemisphere reaches the highest arch before heading south, and the days become shorter. Midsummer days and nights have always held special meaning.

At Stonehenge near Salisbury in England, the sun rises perfectly on June 21, and shines through the famous Heel Stone to channel the climbing light into the very center of the ancient monument. The builders of the monument 5,000 years ago were meticulous constructors and knew the day and night of midsummer held secrets.

In the world of the paranormal, Midsummer Day and Night also have significant meaning. Supernatural enthusiasts are convinced the longest day of the year is a time when the residuals between the living and the hereafter crossover.

Throughout history, Midsummer Night has always held an association with superstition. When unique objects from the past have special value for those who have passed, a residual of that special value has a tendency to travel across from the hereafter and venture into the present.

On a particular stormy night, well after the Midsummer sun had set, the thunder and lightning on the island were non-stop, and the rain in the darkness was coming down in such torrential waves that the streetlights could only offer a suggestion of where a vehicle might drive.

Lucy was living alone in a small house, and it was her first summer on the island. When a sudden knock on the door gave her a start, well above the flashes of lightning and the earthquakes of thunder, all she could see when she went to look was a package by the foyer and the Amazon driver disappearing in the rain.

The order was from weeks before and almost forgotten, but for special antique items of shoes or clothing, a delivery time was never set in stone. When the soaking package was opened, the pair of burgundy high heels from the Parisian designer were just as promised. They were obviously well cared for and in almost perfect condition. Lightly worn was the description on the odd website, and when Lucy looked, even the expensive soles were hardly scuffed.

A slow rumble of thunder suddenly became a loud explosion when a very close lightning strike and a roar of thunder rattled the sturdy little house. The hour was late, the storm frightening, and Lucy was more than ready to wait for morning under the covers with her cat Felix, who was already waiting in bed. The antique designer shoes would wait until morning.

After sunrise the rain was over, the sky was clear, and Lucy and Felix went into the kitchen for coffee. Before the coffee was ready, Lucy saw that the shoes were not on the dining room table where she thought she had left them. They were, however, arranged side-by-side and waiting at the front door. What a night. Lucy shrugged, made the coffee, and placed the shoes back up on the dining room table.

After coffee and the local paper, Lucy tried on the shoes. They were a perfect fit. That afternoon, she had a lunch date with friends and wore the fashionable high heels. All her friends admired the designer shoes, but when she came home and took them off, she noticed dark stains on both of the insteps. Without another thought, Lucy went on about her day, and after a TV mystery, and another thunderstorm began to brew, she picked up Felix and went to bed.

That night, when the dream came, Lucy felt she was in a trap. She could not wake up. In the dream, she was walking the streets of Paris, and she was wearing the shoes. The language was French, but somehow Lucy was fluent. She understood everything. When the shadows began to slant and Lucy felt the cold winter wind, she headed back to her hotel, but felt as if someone was following her. With every step, in the old designer’s heels, she felt as if she were somehow in slow motion, but whoever was following was getting closer. Before she could reach the safety of her hotel on the narrow and darkening street, she woke up in her little house on the island. Felix was beside her, and when they went into the kitchen for coffee, the shoes were not where she knew she left them. They were sitting side by side and waiting at the front door.

Lucy was living alone, and no one was ever in the house except for her and Felix. She ignored the shoes all day, drank an extra glass of wine at dinner, and after climbing under the covers with her cat, she fell asleep and was at once back in Paris.

This time it was already evening, and the streetlights were glistening under low clouds and a gathering mist. When she felt the shoes begin to slow her down, she pushed harder in her stride and then tried to kick the heels off. The rushing footsteps were closer than ever, and when she felt the fatal and crushing blow from behind, she woke up gasping, and Felix was looking at her strangely.

When Lucy and the cat started again for the kitchen, the shoes were waiting in the middle of the hallway in front of the bedroom door.

Later that day, the shoes were in a box at the UPS office and were on the way back to the original seller. The nightmares of the murder in Paris, with the mist and the darkness, never came back, and to Lucy’s profound relief, neither did the antique designer high heels she found at the obscure website on the Internet.