Thread: The Empty Jar (Short Story)

Hi guys, here is a short story I have written which I would like feedback on. It is 2500 words.

The Empty Jar

I
Being a woman of a somewhat pale complexion, and not being in possession of many strikingly beautiful physical features, it came as quite a shock when Dr Alexander Harper asked me to pay him a visit.
After walking with acute trepidation along the sweeping driveway of his country manor I found myself standing before a large oak doorway. When I rang the doorbell the sound echoed through the house. I happened to glance at the peephole, which sat in the centre which was in the image of an eyeball. I peered through the frosted glass and saw a fog like glow emanating from down the hallway. A shadow appeared, growing larger as it sauntered casually towards me.
After scanning me from the peephole, during which time I smiled broadly and waved emphatically, Dr Harper opened the door.
He was as handsome as he has been last week, and evidently had not long returned from his surgery, for he was still wearing his long white coat which was half buttoned over a plain blue tee shirt.
‘Mary!’ he exclaimed upon seeing me, ‘Come in, come in.’ He welcomed me by taking my winter coat and hanging it up on the hook in his hallway. He smiled, showing his teeth. While not perfect, they were held in his mouth with a slight crookedness. This didn’t detract from his face however; in fact I believed that it made his face even more vivid than it already was. His deep brown eyes glowed like burning logs and his hair sat perfectly neat, like a well-pruned hedge atop his head. I caught a glimpse of myself as I passed a mirror and looked away. I could not compete with that! Although I must have some attractive qualities, or else why would he have asked me here tonight?
‘May I get you a drink?’ He asked, as we entered his spacious living room. I agreed and stated that white wine would suit me fine. He disappeared into the kitchen. I studied the selection of framed certificates that he kept proudly on the walls. I stood and studied them closer.
The President and Council
Of the
College of Ophthalmologists
Certify that
Alexander Frederick Harper
Has satisfied the requirements of the
Ordinances of the college

I nodded to myself with an air of approval. I could see why he chose to have them framed. I took this opportunity to steal a quick glance around the room. I saw photographs of Alexander with his friends and other eye doctors, or ophthalmologists, as they liked to be known. I remember my embarrassment on the night on which he told me, and how I had quickly tried to repeat it, but instead made myself appear the fool.
Mid way along the centre wall there was a grand fireplace, with a large protruding mantle. The fireplace itself did not strike me as particularly unique as I own one just like it myself. No, what hit me as peculiar were the items that were atop it. Three glass jars with bright green lids and no labels sat perpendicular to each other. The jars at either end contained a pair of eyeballs, floating in suspended animation, staring at me from across the room. I walked over to the fireplace and my eyes were drawn to the jar in the centre, which was empty. How odd, that he should choose to keep an empty jar on his mantle. I turned my attention back to the photographs to avoid the piercing stares of the eyes.
Alexander returned from the kitchen with two elegant glasses of sparkling wine. He placed them on a mahogany coffee table and dropped into a large armchair by the fire.
‘I assume you have seen my certificates?’ he asked, trying poorly to keep the smugness from the question.
‘Why, yes,’ I said, perhaps too casually. ‘The studying must have been difficult,’ I added, taking a sip of the wine.
‘I have a natural gift, and an interest in eyes. Also there are only 2.3 Ophthalmologists per 100,000 population in this country you know, it makes me feel special. I like to feel important.’
‘Really?’ I said, nodding once more. I spotted pride in his eyes, or was it gloating? I chose to assume the former. ‘When did you decide that you wanted to get into that particular branch?’
‘Shortly after we left school, when I was seventeen,’ he said, leaning back on the armchair, ‘I decided that I wanted to explore medicine. I was unsure of what type of medicine to head into. After my experiences at school it seemed sensible to go into ophthalmology.’ He took his glass of wine and took what remained back in one gulp, exhaling merrily afterwards.
While he spoke, I was desperately sifting through memories, trying to pull Alexander Harper out from the depths. I drew nothing. I had been struggling with this ever since the reunion the previous week.

II
When I received the letter through the post, almost one month ago, I had been instantly overwhelmed with apprehension and excitement. It had been 20 years since I had seen anybody from my school years. I have only fleeting memories of my school life. I can remember lessons and notable teachers, as well as my best friends, but little else. So when I was offered the chance to travel back to my roots and meet up with those who I had long since lost touch, I jumped on the chance.
I spent a long time getting ready on the night of the reunion. Firstly I made sure I was wearing my finest dress. I chose a cream one with a floral pattern. I also applied my full make up. I wanted to look my best; after all I had no idea who I might meet.
The reunion took place in the hall of the school. I arrived in plenty of time. I had left early in the day to ensure that I could drive the appropriate distance. After having a wander through the school, taking in several of my old classrooms, I entered the hall.
The hall had not changed much during the past twenty years. The small wooden stage was still situated at the far end, although the floorboards were much more worn. Hanging above the stage was a large banner which had CLASS OF 1990 REUNION written in red paint. The sign had evidently been hung hastily, for there were thin trails like blood running from several of the letters.
I spent the next hour talking to several old friends, some of whom I had forgotten and others that I had lost contact with due to living so far away. I had been looking for Pauline and Jess, my two best friends from my school years but had been unable to. During my time here the three of us had been almost inseparable. I had lost touch with them several years back and had not been able to find them. I was stuck instead talking to a rough looking woman who told me quite proudly that she had spent the past twenty years raising thirteen children.
In searching for a way out of this conversation I spotted a smartly dressed gentleman looking at me from the steps which led up to the stage. I cannot say how long he had been looking at me but when I caught his eye he gave a smile. When I managed to pull myself away from the woman, who had started to talk about the wealth of benefits that she received, I made my way over to him.
He stood as I neared him and I noticed he had incredible posture for a man of his age. By looking at him, I would not have known his true age for he appeared much younger than he really was. I was sure that his face rang a bell but I could not place him. He recognized me however.
‘Mary Nichols!’ he cried, holding his arms out and drawing me in for an embrace. ‘Do you remember me? Alexander Harper. Oh how long I have wanted to bump into you.’ The name, like his face, rang a bell, a bell that was tolling somewhere deep in my subconscious like I was hearing it through a double glazed window.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, returning his grin, ‘I’m sure it will come to me eventually. How have you been?’ I hoped that he would not be too hurt by my lapse in recollection. He leant one arm on the stage and held the other out before him, ‘Well, you should be calling me Doctor Alexander Harper.’
So he, whoever he had been, was a doctor now! I instinctively brushed my hair behind my ears and deepened my gaze. At first, before I had revealed that I could not remember him, I thought I had detected hatred behind the smile, or perhaps it had just been nervousness.
‘What kind of doctor are you Alexander?’ I asked, widening my eyes ever so slightly as to accentuate the whites. My eyes were my best feature, I had no doubt, and when it came to men I used them to my advantage.
‘I specialize in Ophthalmology,’ he said casually.
‘Optimology?’ I said, clumsily. Alexander Harper gave a laugh.
‘Ophthalmology, it’s the study of eyes essentially. I have always been fascinated by eyes and helping people to see to the best of their ability.’
It was when I asked him whether he could test my eyes sometime that he blurted out, ‘You-you could always come over to my place some time. If you are free and want to of course.’ It was now that I noticed that he had no wedding ring on his finger. This, coupled with the tone of desperation and urgency in his voice, led me to believe that Dr Alexander Harper was a lonely individual.
I took in the offer and held it close for a few seconds. I didn’t want to seem too desperate. I told him that it would be lovely. He jotted down his address and we arranged to meet up the very next week.



III

We had finished our wine and were enjoying gentle chat. He told me a lot about his profession. He particularly endeavored to educate me on the different procedures that he could perform. I had already gathered that he was a show off so this came of no surprise to me.
‘You see,’ he was saying, ‘it’s not just a matter of going in and snipping the optical nerve. That’s reserved strictly for cartoons.’ He smiled at his little joke.
‘So you don’t use a spoon either then?’I added, pleased at my contribution.
He slapped the arm of his armchair joyfully. ‘Well that is actually a certified medical technique you know, although strictly speaking we are to use surgical forceps. Firstly we put them under a local anesthetic. We inject them in their retrobulbar space. That’s the area just behind the eye.’ He added, spotting my confusion. He continued in the same fashion. ‘And then we go in and perform the operation. Afterwards we just place in the correct size synthetic globe and there you have it, a successful Enucleation.’
I was in need of something different. All of this talk of eye operations was leaving me slightly unwell. Then I remembered that Alexander was still to test my eyesight as he had promised. I asked him for a tour of his lovely home. When I said this he stood up and replied, ‘of course! How silly of me, I should have shown you around straight away, follow me.’
He stood and walked confidently into his hallway. At the end of the corridor he turned and we were inside a marvelous private surgery. Everything inside this room was clinically white. The worktops shone in the bright hanging lights, and there were several screens positioned around the room. In the centre there a large blue operating chair, which had a padded neck rest as well as what appeared to be leather restraints near the arms.
‘This is my own private surgery. As you see, I like things clean and tidy.’ He was in the process of pinning up a poster which contained letters of various sizes. He asked me to stand on the white line, which he indicated, and to read all of the characters.
As I have said before, my eyes are my best feature, but recently I had noticed that I felt the need to squint more often than I had ever done before.
To my surprise, I read each letter on the paper with exceptional ease. I breezed through the first ten letters and paused only briefly on the lower set.
‘Did you know that I needed glasses, back at school? Maybe that is why you didn’t recognize me.’ said Dr Harper casually, after we had left his surgery and returned once more to the lounge.
‘I did not know that,’ I said, straining my mind back to school, scanning for people with glasses.
‘I was bullied at school.’ He said, he hadn’t poured himself another glass of wine. ‘A group of girls would pick on me almost every day.’ I detected sadness in his voice. ‘I suppose it was because of them that I first got into Ophthalmology. I escaped them once I left school and here I am now.’
It was at that moment that the bell rang right in my ears. What had once been a distant toll was now in the room with me. Alexander Harper had been bullied at school. She could see him now, against the wall, glasses scratched and pleading with the three bullies around him. It was also at that moment that my vision began to blur. The glass of wine in front of me split into two, and upon looking up, I could no longer clearly distinguish Dr Harper from his environment. I felt myself drifting away uncontrollably.

IV
When I awoke, I did not know where I was. Wherever I was, it was as dark as it could be. I struggled but I discovered that my arms were strapped down. I called out and my words seemed to echo.
‘Hello? Is anyone there?’
I heard muffled footsteps. They sounded as though they were originating from another room. A door was opened and the footsteps grew louder until whoever was making them had come to a stop right next to me.
‘Now now, don’t stress. The operation was a complete success.’ The voice was calm and very professional, and also chillingly familiar. ‘You won’t be judging anything on looks anymore.’
Once he had spoken, I knew exactly where I was. The room I was in was no doubt flooded by light; a large hanging light to be precise. It was also possible that there were several computer screens around me each one depicting some aspect of the operation which had just been performed. One thing was certain however, and the realization hit me with a nauseating kick, was that on the mantle above the fireplace sat three occupied jars.

Hi thecitydweller

It's a decent story. It's very tidy, in so much as everything wraps up neatly at the end, and the sequence of events, including the flashback to the reunion, works well. There is something in there which makes the doctor seem a little unhinged, maybe it's the way he talks himself up, showing off in a manner of speaking. This gives the reader the feeling that all is not what it may appear to be, though it is done with subtlety and so it is possible to detect a 'something' will be happening whilst never revealing too much too soon.

If there's one thing to be careful with, it seems a little wordy in places, and sometimes fewer words can be very effective. Second thoughts, fewer words can be more effective all of the time if the correct words are used, and in the correct order too.

Take for example: Being a woman of a somewhat pale complexion, and not being in possession of many strikingly beautiful physical features,

Average. She thinks her looks are average. In this context it could be a powerful word, and straight to the point. Try something like: Being a woman of a somewhat pale complexion, and average looks.

A shadow appeared, growing larger as it sauntered casually towards me.

Here, your verb is strong, sauntered, its very meaning suggests casual. Get rid of casually.

and his hair sat perfectly neat, like a well-pruned hedge atop his head.

I'm not sure this works. To have his hair sitting perfectly neat is fine, but it doesn't require the hedge analogy. After reading this line I tried to visualise what it might look like. It becomes a distraction for the reader.

Looking over the story again, quickly, it seems as these things appeared at the start of the story, and once the dialogue begins it tightens up a little. They certainly didn't detract too much from my enjoyment of the story.

I hope these observations help.

Scott