The Seven Chairs

This short story is from another in class assignment, where we had to create a story based off a Harris Burdick image. Our story had to have the same title as the picture, and include the subheading somewhere in the story (it’s underlined). This started out as a really cool idea in my head, but I don’t think it transferred well to paper, and now I’m not sure if I even like it. Oh vell, here it is anyway:

                Shaking his head in confusion, Detective Wablowski slowly looked through the files again. He just couldn’t figure out these disappearances! Seven nuns. All gone. Seven disappearances in one week. The first two to vanish were never seen again. So was the fourth. Later, he found out that the sixth somehow appeared in Iceland, the third and seventh were found on the Great Wall of China, and the fifth one ended up in France. But he didn’t figure all this out until later. For now, he was stuck in a perpetual state of wonder and confusion.

                He reopened the first file—the possible scene of the crime. Where all seven were last seen. The grand Church of Monte Cristo. This was the home and place of worship and service for all seven nuns. Besides that, they all had nothing in common. Different ages, ethnicities, and origins. So this church must be the link. He had to visit it again.

                Half an hour later, the detective was walking through the front doors of the church of Monte Cristo. It was so big and grand. He saw a priest coming toward him with a welcoming smile.

                “Good morning,” he said.

                “Good morning to you too,” the detective replied. “I was hoping you could aid me in the investigation into the seven nuns that disappeared last week. As you may have heard, this is the last place all seven of them were seen.”

                “Yes, all of them worshipped and resided here. They are dearly missed.”

                “I am sure,” Wablowski replied. “I was wondering if you could show me exactly where in this church they were all seen.”

                “Surprisingly, they were all seen going into a room upstairs. It was converted into a store room some time ago. Before that, it belonged to another nun. Sadly, she too disappeared ten years ago. We never found out how.”

                “Thank you, and can you show me this mysterious room?” the detective asked.

                “Certainly,” the priest said. “This way.” He led the detective down a corridor, then up a dark, winding set of stairs. Soon, the priest stopped in front of a large wooden door, motioning Wablowski forward.

                The detective cautiously stepped up to the door, and an immediate sense of foreboding overwhelmed him. Shaking, his hand reached out toward the handle and clasped it gently. He slowly turned the doorknob and stepped inside this mysterious room.

                He walked merely five steps into the room and stopped, as if suddenly struck by lightning. Despite the strange and ominous foreboding that overtook him earlier, there was nothing in the room, just some dust in the corners and a large chandelier swinging from the ceiling.

                “Hmmm…That’s certainly strange,” the priest said nervously. “I swear the last time I was in here this room was full of old chairs. I guess all of them were removed recently.” He then started to anxiously run his fingers through his graying hair. Detective Wablowski took note.

                “And who saw all of the nuns enter this room?” he asked.

                “Well … I guess that would be me.” The priest answered hesitatingly.

                “And you thought that would not have helped if you mentioned that earlier?” the detective questioned. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take you back to the station for questioning.”

                “No! Don’t take me!” the priest shouted. “I’ll tell you everything!”

                “Alright then, let’s hear it.”

                “Well, it all started with the nun who lived in this very room, naught ten years ago. She was special, or should I say different. She said she could commune directly with God. All of us hope for that gift, but in her, it seemed fake. However, one day she brought a chair from this very room out into the center of the church, where the ceilings were highest, and told us to watch, watch as she made her ascent to God. Granted all of us there were men and women of faith, but this seemed preposterous even to us. Despite our disbelief, she sat calmly on the old chair, which immediately began to rise up. It wasn’t attached to any string, at least that I could see. And when she was about to hit the ceiling, we all heard a faint pop, and she was gone. We still don’t know where she ended up."

                “Well that sure is an interesting story, but how does it relate to the current disappearances?” Wablowski asked.

                “When we went up to her room after she disappeared, there were seven more chairs waiting. All exactly the same as the one she disappeared on. We kept them locked up here for a while, and through the years, more nuns came to join us. Eventually, we had seven nuns destined to join God’s side, and serve Him well, and we thought, ‘What better way to send them up to God than by these chairs?’ We tested it with the first nun; she disappeared too. The others were clamoring to be the next, so we sent them off to join Him as soon as they were ready. I know they are at His side now, and serve Him well. I know it.”