by Jenny Wood
“Good morning, Conner” Betsy came in around ten. Although there was a deli right next door; nobody beat our fancy coffee.
“Good morning, Betsy. How are you today?” I asked politely.
“Things are getting better. You know Harold fell and broke his hip last month and he’s got that therapy lady coming over today, bless him. I swear she flirts with him until he gets out of his chair. If it wasn’t working so well, I might be jealous.” She jokes, telling me, again, about her husband and the goings on between them, like she does most every morning. He had, in fact, fell and broke his hip last month, but didn’t require surgery, as it wasn’t bad enough to warrant it. He did have to do physical therapy four times a week though and getting him out of his TV chair before the new therapist, was next to impossible. According to Betsy, it was down-right easy to get him out of it now, when “Misses. Stethoscope”, came calling- her words, not mine.
“I’m glad he’s doing better.” I smile my sincerity. Betsy and Harold have been married for forty-one years. I couldn’t even imagine knowing a person for that forty-one years let alone spending every single day with them. What that must be like?
“Carl and I are going to welcome the new proprietors across the way, here in a bit. You wanna go check ‘em out with us?” She asked, Carl being the proprietor of “Bailey’s Deli” next door. To be honest, I couldn’t see any of us in a tattoo shop and wondered how we’d look, all of us, trotting across the street to say our hello’s.
“Oh, no thank you. I’ll let ya’ll be the welcome wagon.” I tell her and she beams. Although she’s the one that’s always in everybody’s business, she is a good person to have on your side. She’s not one of those gossip hounds that tells everybody’s business, good or bad; but she does have a tendency to know a little something about everyone.
“Alright then, honey. I’ll tell ‘em all to come introduce themselves, another time then.” She winked as I handed her, her usual vanilla cappuccino and she scuttled on back over to her store.
Claire came in at noon and we had a few people meander in and out for the next couple hours while I stacked some books and replaced some others. When the school kids came in, it got louder than usual but not to a disruptive noise. I’d been noticing this high-school kid, Douglas, as everyone called him, kept side eyeing me every time I’d get near his area. The kid had been coming in for the past couple weeks but I didn’t know him nor did I know his parents; which I thought, rare, because like I said, everyone tended to know everyone around these parts. I tried to smile encouragingly at him, but he always got weird looks and looked away. I’m not sure what his problem was, but he seemed to have quite the attitude. I ignored his dirty looks and suspicious behavior and went back to the front counter.
“We have two of the house computers in use and three tablets checked out. Two for the week, and one for an hour.” Claire tells me, as she makes two cups of French vanilla, iced coffee.
“Great, thanks. Mary Henley turned hers back in, I assume?” I asked, knowing Mary Henley was always a day late and a dollar short, every time she came in here. She never turned anything in on time and always tried to haggle my book prices, even though most of them were way too cheap as it was. Still, she was one of our best customers so, I didn’t give her too much trouble about it. Plus, she was only 13.
“She did and her mama came in and paid the late fee.” Claire rolled her eyes but then smiled. She knew how challenging that girl could be. I almost felt sorry for her mama.
“Hey, do you know that kid over there? Tall, black hair, big hoodie? I see him in here from time to time but he never checks out with me and I never catch him leaving.” I asked her quietly; wanting to at least know the kid’s name.
“Mmmhmm.” She huffed. “That’s Douglas Perry. He’s a punk, alright. I caught him trying to walk out of here with a book last week. I dang near had to chase him down. I told him no more of that stuff or I’d have to call his folks. He rolled his eyes and got a card, so, I reckon he hadn’t done it again, since.” She says while now entering new books that we’d just gotten from the thrift store, into the computer.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I stopped digging through the boxes and asked.
“I thought I had it handled. He didn’t actually steal anything so I didn’t want to get him in trouble.” She answered, staring back at me with wide eyes
I sighed and agreed, I guess she had a point.
It wasn’t minutes after we’d brought up that the kid in the oversized hoodie, passed by me at a shelf I was rearranging; when his shoulder slammed into my shoulder and made him drop the tablet from his front pocket. He scooped it up and continued to walk out.
“Sir, you didn’t turn in your tablet!” Claire called out to the kid but he just kept walking. “Excuse me! Douglas!” She yelled again and tried to go after him but I held up my hand to stop her. I didn’t know this kid but if he’s taking something that doesn’t belong to him, right in front of us, he’s not going to listen to her if she follows him outside. So I do.
“Excuse me, Douglas is it?” I try, following him out the door. “If you want to rent that for the week, you’re more than welcome. It’s cheap and you already have a card. Just go in there to Claire and she’ll set you up.” I try again, but he doesn’t turn. I put my hand on his arm to stop him but wasn’t expecting him to turn as quick as he did or for him to tower over me in anger.
“I know you didn’t just put your hand on me, faggot.” He snarled loudly; spittle flying from his mouth into my face. While it wasn’t the first time someone had called me that, but again, I wasn’t expecting it and it stopped me up short.
“I just wanted to tell you that you could rent that tablet, but taking it out of the building without renting it, is stealing. Cl-Claire tried to tell you but you weren’t listening. I need you to hand it over or go back in and rent it.” I tried to seem unfazed but he was towering over me and if I was being honest, it was scaring the shit out of me. I really should have thought this through a little better, but I’ve never had a problem like this before, not like this.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He backs up and looks around.
“The tablet, in your jacket. It belongs to the bookstore.” I tell him unnecessarily; he knows it does, he’s just trying to steal it.
“You accusing me of something, Cho-Mo?” He crowds me again, trying to intimidate me and it’s working.
“I called Sherriff Lang, Con; he’ll be here in 10,” Claire called to me from the door. That seemed to piss the young man off, because, without warning, he reared back and hit me square in the nose. I doubled over in pain, hands holding my face. I could feel the warmth of the blood pouring down my lips and chin and making my shirt stick to my chest. I couldn’t help but cry. Seeing people on TV get punched in the face and snap back like nothing happened was crazy. This hurt so bad, I thought I was going to throw up, the pain was so intense. I couldn’t open my eyes or seem to stop them from watering on their own.
“Hey, man. Hang on, let’s sit you down here for a second.” I hear a baritone voice beside me as he helps me to the sidewalk to sit. I look up through the blur of teary eyes to see tatted up, Kayson Kennedy- the man I’d been watching from afar. His golden-brown eyes are all I see while he’s gripping my chin and turning my face this way and that. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen up close and I curse not being able to see him in all this inked up glory from across the two-lane street on a daily basis.
“Here, take this rag.” Claire is suddenly at our side, shoving a towel at Kayson.
“What the heck were you thinking, Conner? You should have let him go! Look at your face!” She squeals, frantically. I’d actually forgotten that I just got punched in the face, while I was getting lost in the golden depths of Kayson’s eyes. It’s then that I notice my shirt is covered, my hands are covered and from sitting here with my knees bent up to my chest; even they are getting covered with thick, sticky, blood red, splotches. It�
��s more than I can handle and the next thing I see… is nothing.
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Chapter 1
Alvin
I’m out.
They say I’m not fit to serve anymore.
The things I’ve seen over there; the people I’ve hurt; none of that shit matters to them. As long as I’m pissed at the right people, as long as I take it out on the right motherfuckers; they let me stay. They ship me off and they let me rage at the enemy. And I do-I did. But now, on the plane home to attend the funeral of my entire family; my beautiful mother, who clung to me and cried the first through the fourth time I got sent overseas; sent me and my team care packages and letters from home every chance she got. My father, who told me he was proud of me, literally every time he saw me, even though I knew he was scared to death every time I left that I’d never come home. And my twin, nine-year-old sisters; Alexis and Alecia, who were my parents later in life surprise and loves of my life. All of them are lost to me now. I’m coming home to bury all of them and I can’t muster the gumption to give a fuck that my career is over.
If you want to read what happens next, that started this whole thing: Click here! https://www.amazon.com/Dont-Leave-Alone-Unlikely-Heroes-ebook/dp/B01DJAXWRA/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8