The door slammed and footsteps could be heard running across the floor.
Professor Egon Spengler looked up from his workbench at the clock. It hung on the wall in front of him next to pictures of family and friends on both sides. Shaking his head he saw that the clock read five o'clock. He sighed and looked around the room.
His work room was a mess, neatly organized, but a mess none the less. The wall in front of Egon held his workbench with half finished projects. His tools hung overhead and two drawers underneath held his paperwork. His chair with wheels sat in the middle. In front of him on the bench lay parts of a PKE meter, proton pack, ghost trap, and ecto-goggles.
To Egon's left was his collection of spores, mold, and fungus. Underneath these shelves was an assortment of reptiles each housed in a fish tank, complete with wire mesh lids and light bulbs for heat. Egon smiled slightly as he remembered when Peter first saw it. Peter declared the room a hazard zone and the next day, to make a point, brought a skull and crossbones sign and hung it on the door. Ray completed the look with a "Do Not Enter" sign and Winston, not to be left out, put up a "Do Not Cross" police tape. The remnants still hung there today, many years later.
Laying down the screwdriver that he had been using to fix an old ghost trap, Egon pushed back in his chair and swiveled around. He now saw his computer desk in front of him and to the left; across from the collection of spores, mold, fungus, and reptiles; was the best thing he ever bought. At least so he thought. A beautiful walnut finished Steinway grand piano.
Closing his eyes Egon thought back to better days. Days spent listing to a beautiful young woman playing that piano with such passion. And her voice. An angels voice. Her soprano voice ringing with songs of love and happiness. Singing songs from different operas. How he loved the opera.
The water being turned on in the bathroom startled him from his thoughts. Egon opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Shaking his head he stood up. Being careful to step around the raised platform in the middle of the room, complete with chair and music stand, Egon made his way to the door next to the collection wall. Looking back, he smiled and turned out the lights before closing the door.
Placing his right hand on the railing, Egon climbed the basement steps to the first floor. In front of him was the kitchen. The clock that hung on the wall now read 5:15 p.m.
"You know we are going to be late getting to the 'Met' tonight?" he called to the person in the bathroom.
"Not my fault. Class ran over at the University." came a female voice. "Besides it's New Jersey Performing Arts Center (NJPAC) tonight."
Egon furled his brows. "It's Madam Butterfly tonight, right?" he asked.
"No. That's tomorrow." came the answer.
"I can't keep up with your schedule you know." Egon replied.
"I wrote it all down. Check the calendar Professor Spengler!"
Egon smiled. When she called him Professor Spengler she was always teasing him.
Egon turned left and walked across to the calendar that hung on the wall next to the front door. This was one of those big desk calendar types. It was marked with different colored pens. On the side was a legend with what each color stood for. It read as follows:
Next to this was a side note that read:
Written inside today's box was
Orchestra = Ce
Organization to a "T". Just like him. The water turned off just then and Egon knew he only had about five minutes before she would come out.
"Black Tie Affair?" he asked.
"No." came the reply, "Sunday Best."
Egon heaved a sigh of relief. Something told him this morning, maybe her leaving, that he needed to wear a suit today. Crossing to his left he paused at the door to his bedroom. The date on the calendar he had just been looking at didn't register until now. A chill took him by surprise! Was it really ten years?
"What's wrong? You look like you have seen a ghost."
Egon jumped. He hadn't heard her come up behind him. She had a white bathrobe on and her hair was wrapped up in a towel.
"I startled you. I'm sorry." she said.
"No." he replied, "My fault. I just realized what day it is."
Concern crossed her face. "I know it isn't easy for you. Remember it is not easy for me either. If you wish to stay home tonight I will understand."
"No. I have to go." Egon paused. "To honor the memory." he whispered.
"I'll drive then." She said and with that she hugged Egon and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Remember…" she started to say.
"I love you." they both finished together.
She laughed and turned away from him taking the towel off her wet hair as she went.
"Bring the 'Strad' with you please when we go out to the car," she said as she walked down the hall to change her clothes.
Egon turned back to the bedroom door and opened it. His eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Today of all days. How could he have forgotten? Inside were memories. Good memories of her. In front of him was a four poster bed. How many times had he held her in his arms in that bed? The quiet talking to each other. The hopes and dreams of tomorrow. The passionate love making. Egon blinked away the tears. A chest of drawers stood to the right and a closet to the left. Her parents gave her that chest of drawers. It was a gift for when … Egon grabbed the door frame now. Night stands on each side that she had picked out for him on his birthday.
"Oh forgive me Eden." he cried to the empty room. A single tear slid down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away. Removing the white lab coat that he had been wearing, Egon tenderly laid it at the foot of the bed. Crossing to the closet he grabbed his suit jacket from the hanger. He didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to find Eden not there. Everything in the room reminded him of her. After all it was here that ….
Shaking, he grabbed the closet door for support. Hanging his head and closing his eyes he muttered. "I'm sorry I forgot about you today Eden."
A voice almost as if someone was next to him said, "It's fine. Now go on my dear."
Egon opened his eyes in surprise. "Eden?" he questioned the empty room, but no one was there. Letting go of the closet door, Egon pulled on his suit jacket and reverently closing the door he exited the room. Egon then continued straight ahead to the living room.
Egon got the hard plastic case from the corner and went to where the cellos sat in a row. A Yamaha cello; a superb quality for when she was just starting out. This was her first cello. Dana and Peter had gotten her this for her birthday. She had outgrown it in a little less then a year. The next was a Otto Benjamin. An intermediate cello that was hand-carved from highly seasoned tone-woods with a deep rich tone. This replaced her Yamaha and she played it for many years. The prize of the group was the last cello. A 1714 "Batta" Stradivari on loan from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Recently received to play on, she only had this one about six months. Dana had pulled strings for him to get this cello for her. Carefully taking the "Batta" cello from its red velvet box he placed it lovingly in the case. Closing the locks on the front he could hear the back door closing. A moment later the car engine started. "Better get going." he told himself.
Picking up the cello he let himself out the back door. After opening up the back door of the car and placing the cello onto the backseat Egon got into the passenger side. She waited for him to put on his seatbelt and then backing the car out of the driveway the pair was on their way.