The Gilded Ballroom
Samuel shifted in his seat and rolled his shoulders back, trying to get comfortable in the cloth-draped plastic folding chair. The recital had begun, and while Alice gazed at the string quartet in rapture, Samuel fidgeted. Alice had begged him to join her at the concert, and though he hadn’t been reluctant to attend, now he found it boring.
He glanced around the mansion’s ballroom (now a museum) and marveled at the opulence of the Gilded Age. Baroque-style gold leaf adorned the high walls, and the marble floor shone with polish. Even the furniture seemed to sparkle with a gold sheen. Silk drapes hung on the floor-to-ceiling windows, and French doors opened onto a large stone terrace. A painted blue sky and clouds covered the ceiling, with cherubs at each corner and a large, ornate gold medallion at its center. Samuel sighed and turned his attention back to the performers.
Music filled the room, yet Samuel had the uncanny feeling a fog was settling over the audience. His sight blurred and his chin drooped. He jerked awake at the sensation of falling, then endeavored to focus on the quartet, now playing a lively tune. Too lively, Samuel thought, for only the most dismal and somber pieces—Alice’s favorites—were on the program. He gazed at the musicians.
Samuel frowned; wasn’t a woman in the quartet? An older, chubby and somewhat frumpy lady with black slacks and red cardigan fiddling on the viola came to mind. Now, there were men in black three-piece suits playing… a waltz?
Samuel scrunched his face and turned to Alice, but found only a side table with a Tiffany-style lamp beside him. He examined the lotus themed leaded glass lampshade with its bronze leaf-shaped mosaic base… Holy moly, a real Tiffany lamp!
“What in the world…?” He murmured and scanned the room.
Samuel gulped; he no longer sat on the folding chair among the spectators, but on a high-backed leather seat off to the side and by a window. Ladies in satin dresses, lace sleeves and low necklines, bouffant hairdos and sparkling jewels swirled on the arms of dapper men in tuxedos with stiff, high collars and slick hair.
The room rang with the sound of laughter and merry conversation as the couples twirled around the dance floor. The piece ended, the music paused, and a hush fell over the ballroom.
A strange tinkling sounded above Samuel; he glanced up and noticed the heavy crystal chandelier shaking and shimmering in the twilight. An astounded murmur rose through the crowd as the marble floor shuddered. Samuel kept his eye on the chandelier as it swayed back and forth. The chandelier creaked and the wiring snapped; he jolted.
“Wake up,” Alice hissed in his ear and gave him another discreet shake.
Her angry gazed burned, and Samuel found himself back at the recital with the chubby lady on the viola. He scanned his surroundings. The furniture was the same, save for the hard plastic folding chairs placed at the center. No chandelier hung from the ceiling.
Samuel glanced at his neighbors and noticed some fast asleep with their chins on their chests. He was about to glare at Alice when the sleepers jerked awake, and in unison, yelled, “the chandelier!”
A spectral crash sounded through the room; the marble floor glimmered with the ghosts of shattered glass.
