Bookstore Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer
There were many one-of-a-kind books lining the bookshelves at the bookstore. It wasn’t simply a used book store. It was a museum. It was a preservation project. It was original and unique with out-of-print
collectables and rare and unheard of early edition tomes.
She was standing in the Gothic Romance section. Like many teenage girls, she had become
interested in the dark and the twisted and the beautiful. There were secret confessions and private
journals and exquisite corpses and haunted and horrid things. She was attracted to the books of the soul
and of sin.
She thought she was in the back of the store. She hadn’t noticed the doorway to her right
and knew nothing of the section that lay beyond. He came out from the back room, empty
handed. This was a rare occurrence. Something usually caught his eye.
The girl caught his eye.
Her hair was straight Bettie Page.
Her blouse was little more than a corset. And it looked as if her pants were equestrian riding breeches.
“Stare much?”
“I—Sorry… You’re just a… sort of a
hodgepodge.”
“What are you, like 30? 40?”
“I wasn’t staring like that.”
“Sure.”
He was flustered and blushing. She chuckled to herself. What did she care if he was looking at
her? He wasn’t creepy and the way he got
embarrassed meant that he wasn’t some middle-aged letch. He was dressed pretty plain and simple – a
t-shirt and vest combination. Probably
thought he was a hipster. He had a
unique chain that was probably attached to a pocket watch or something. And his tattoo on his arm was pretty cool
too.
“What’s that? Celtic or something?”
“Sanskrit.”
“What’s it mean?”
He was silent for a moment,
thinking. He looked her in the
eyes. Did he look embarrassed? He was trying to look serious.
“It was a spell. Ward off evil spirits.”
She laughed but caught herself.
“Sorry.
Did it work?”
“Um... No. I was young.
I found out later that magic didn’t really work like that.”
“Or at all.”
“Sure.
Or at all.”
The way he smiled at that made her
think for just one moment that he really did know something about magic that he
wasn’t revealing.
“What were you shopping for?”
“None of your business. What were you shopping for?”
He looked nervously at the back room.
“What’s back there?” she demanded. She was about to push past him, but he
stopped her.
“You don’t want any of those
books. Those are the books that if you
read them the wrong way they turn on you.
“What does that even mean?”
She looked curious. Doubtful, but curious. He could tell part of her wanted to push him
down and go read something in that room right now.
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“You really are a dirty old man.”
“I’m only 27.”
“Yeah, and I’m 17. Illegal much?”
“It’s not like that.”
“I’m just giving you shit. I don’t
really care. You don’t look dangerous to
me.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
They went next door to the chain coffee store. You’d think that there would be some home
grown organic mom and pop shop next to a second hand book store, but no, there
was a national chain store. He drank his
coffee black. She had plenty of cream
and sugar and whipped topping.
He asked her about what she was reading and why. She was surprised by this. She had expected there to be some flirtation,
some leering, something. She was a
little disappointed, but quickly forgot that as the conversation was much more
interesting than she would have expected.
It was certainly more entertaining than some subtle or not so subtle
innuendos.
His name was Art.
Short for Artemis. “Like the
Greek Goddess?” That embarrassed him
plenty. Seems he was fond of the legacy
but not fond at all of having a female’s name.
She told him her name was Alex, to make him feel better, but really her
name was Alexandra and she really went by Lexie. It didn’t seem to matter much. Women with a man’s name work. Men with a woman’s name are still sort of
embarrassed.
“So spill it, what were you really shopping for and
what’s really in that back room?”
“I have a friend that I shop for. He collects certain rare and hard to find
materials. I always keep an eye out for
him. I usually find something. I’m good at finding things.”
“But not today.”
“No. Not at
first.”
He smiled. She
smiled back.
Lexie asked him about the books in the back room and
what was true and what was false and what she could learn to do.
Artemis smiled and told her a lot.
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