Whisper

15

"Who are you talking to?" Sheila wondered, as she walked back into the main part of the store.

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I was wondering the same thing, as there was no one there.

"I ...

I thought I heard a voice."

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"Probably a ghost," Sheila remarked, nonchalantly.

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"Really?" I almost yelled.

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"I was just joking," she laughed, as she wiped the two bottles of scotch off.

"Although there are tales."

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Again, I was interested, but the gradual smile on her face made me laugh.

"You are messing with me, right?"

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She shrugged.

"Like every little village in Newfoundland, there are always stories, Will. The Rock, here, is no different."

She finished dusting off the bottles and turned them toward me.

"Pick your choice."

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There was a 15 year old Glenfiddich and an 18 year old Macallan.

I was impressed.

"Wow, they are both great. I'll take both of them."

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Sheila looked for a price on the bottles. There were none.

"I have no idea what they are worth."

She laughed.

"$20 bucks a piece?"

.

Now I laughed.

"How long have they been back there?"

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She shook her head.

"No idea. You think they are still good?"

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I nodded. "Indeed they are, but they are not worth $20 a bottle."

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She thought for a moment.

"$15?"

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I picked up the Macallan and looked at it.

"A current bottle of this would be around $225. This bottle is from 1972, so it was bottled in 1990. A safe price would be around $400-$500."

.

"No shit?"

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I laughed. "No shit.

The Glenfiddich looks about the same and a bottle now is around $85. This one is in the $250 bracket."

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"You know your whiskies," came a voice from behind me.

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"Please tell me there is someone there," I gasped.

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Sheila smiled.