Free The Kaleidoscope by B K Nault Page B

Georgia drove away in their car. He even prided himself on the money he saved, as well as the reduced carbon footprint. “I wanted to talk to one of them.”
    “The guy you gave the bagel to? A new friend?” Morrie addressed Harold as if he’d lost a pet kitten. Morrie had been pretty much the only friend Harold had. They had taken in a couple of movies, and once, Morrie had grilled burgers for them on the patio of his rented bungalow in Glendora. When he asked Harold if he wanted to watch porn with him, Harold demurred. He wasn’t sure what that implied about their friendship, but Morrie never mentioned it again. He didn’t know much about the man’s past. But that had never bothered Harold.
    “Not exactly a friend. I want to ask him something.” That gave Harold an idea. “He wanted me to hold onto this.” He set down his cup, and snapped the Kaleidoscope from his shirt pocket. “I was going to give it back to him. Do you think you could keep it here and give it to him if you see him?”
    A rapt expression swam across Morrie’s face. “My nonna, she had one of these. But not this beautiful. Such talent created this. I admire so much the copper, the gold.”
    Harold knew he should stop him, but it was no use, he’d look as soon as Harold turned his back, so he just shrugged. Turns out no one could resist peering into a kaleidoscope. Especially this one.
    Morrie held it gingerly, measuring the weight in his palm, and slowly raised it until the eyepiece hovered inches from his face. He had to step off his platform to find an open spot to the bright sky through the trees. By now, Harold knew to expect some kind of reaction.
    “Ahh…” Morrie lowered the ’scope, rubbed his hand across his forehead.
    There it was, but more dramatic than the others.
    Harold rushed to catch Morrie before he fell backwards over a concrete retaining wall. “Whoa, there.” He helped the man steady himself, then sit on a ledge that ran around the flowerbeds. He held onto his shoulder to keep him from rolling off into the rose bushes. His legs dangled, and he rocked forward, arms stiff, palms on his knees.
    For several moments, Morrie sat with his head bowed. Harold was beginning to understand the process. First the sighting, then shock. The next reaction would be…revelation? Morrie began to stir. He had that stunned, distant expression the others wore. Like a numbness brought on by shock after a car wreck. Harold let go his grip on Morrie’s shoulder to pick up the ’scope from the concrete. It appeared unharmed.
    “Where did you get that thing?” Morrie’s finger jabbed at it accusingly. “I suggest you dispose of it!” He shifted backward again, and Harold lunged to catch him before he fell into the thorns, but Morrie pushed him away. He was surprisingly dense and strong for such a short man. He stood, teetering on his huaraches, and took the kaleidoscope from Harold.
    “I have heard many stories of things like this; it’s cursed.” He swung wide of Harold and flung the ’scope into a waste can.
    “No!” Harold lunged for the device, but it clunked against the metal and dropped.
    Morrie returned to his cart and climbed up to serve a growing number of impatient customers.
    Something inside Harold prompted him to retrieve the ’scope. He held his breath and stuck his arm in the bin, fishing among fast food wrappings, empty coffee cups and pet waste bags for the metal cylinder.
    He pulled it out, and went back to the cart, flicking out napkin after napkin to wipe it down, and did his best to clean his arm and hands.
    “If you value our friendship, you will get rid of it.” Morrie delivered the warning from his perch.
    This was getting ridiculous. This inanimate object could not possibly have the power, even though he had the feeling it mocked him with its blues and greens, spinning and stopping in random shapes. Could it possibly reveal images? Why hadn’t he left it in the trash can and gone on with his life?
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