by Nicole Rae
She got ready i n record time. She had to get to Blake’s before boss man or he’d have her neck for leaving that last box un-stocked. Snatching her hair brush off the dresser, she stood in front of the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. She ran the brush through her nasty bed head and stared at her reflection appraisingly. The eyes looking back at her weren’t familiar. They were still blue like hers, but the whites were invaded with bloodshot lines, as if she had been sobbing. She didn't remember dreaming either. Had she cried in her sleep? Her mind flashed to her earlier pillow observation. Huh.
Now that she thought about it, it was strange that she didn’t recall dreaming. She always recalled them andcouldn’t think of a single morning,where she didn’t know exactly what she had dreamed about. In fact, often some of her best stories had been based off them.
The notebook in the drawer of her bedside table was for that very purpose. She would wake up inspired and race to scribble it all down before she could forget any details. Her mother used to make fun of how vivid Emily's dreams were. She was so animated when telling the stories that it was next to impossible to tell they weren't real. Sometimes Emily had difficulty reminding herself that they were dreams. Not all her dreams were noteworthy, occasionally they were more like science fiction or a bad cartoon comedy. Those were always good for a laugh, if nothing else.
The scratch on her cheek was red, but didn’t look too bad. Emily remembered Sam hitting her when she got home. The reason why was a little trickier. He wasn’t a regular abuser. In fact, it was rare for him to raise a hand to her. It had only happened a few times in her entire life and never like last night. Despite how drunk he was, that was ridiculous, even for him.
Emily dug through her memories, trying to piece last night together. Strangely, she couldn’t remember. She stared at her reflection intently, willing herself to recall even the smallest detail. No matter how hard she tried the night before remained a blank. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. The thought of George’s wrath was more pressing right now.
She tossed the brush back on the dresser and glanced at the black and silver clock on her wall. Without any further preamble, she hurried out the door. She could see the morning sun pouring into the living room at the end of the hall. It wasn’t like Sam to open the curtains. That was one of Emily’s self- delegated tasks. He would be perfectly happy living in a dark cave for the rest of his life.
To her surprise, Sam was still sawing logs on the couch when he was supposed to be at work. The courteous thing to do would be to wake him gently and rush him off. She shrugged and hurried out the door. There wasn’t time to deal with the repercussions. Sam wasn’t a morning person, especially when he was hung over. Nine chances out of ten, he would wake up swinging. With her luck, he had taken the day off. She would worry about that later.
The weather was crisp with a hint of morning fog. The sky was grey but showed signs of clearing. Birds sang amongst the trees down the street. At first glance, it was beautiful and everything seemed perfect. Of course, things aren’t always what they seem. Emily was beginning to realize that all too well.
As she walked down the streets of her small town, her mind drifted to the way things used to be. Things had gotten weird around Lakeview. People still did the usual things, but their demeanor was different. The first time she had noticed it was roughly a few weeks ago. Gosh, maybe over a month. Not everyone seemed to have changed, just some of them.
Lakeview's population had never been above eight thousand until Mayor Bradshaw came to office. His goal was to give their quiet town a shove into the future. He wanted tourist sites, shopping malls and anything else that would increase the profit margin. Some of his ideas were implemented. Even with the “improvements” he put into action, the town remained quaint. Everyone knew everyone and their business was public record. Kids could play safely outside without parents having to worry. With some exceptions, the crime rate was down and the jail never full.
Once things started changing, they turned full circle. The only muggings this town had ever seen were within the last month. Kids seemed to stick to the safety of their backyards, instead of exploring the neighborhoods. People who would normally would be mowing their lawns were nowhere in sight. Instead, they let their yards grow passed ankle high. That sort of thing might be trivial elsewhere,but it’s unheard of in Lakeview. Most everyone kept their yards neat and tidy like a golf course, even if their house was subpar.
Others walked quickly with their heads down to their destinations. Normally, they would look around at familiar faces and cars, waving and exchanging greetings and small talk, as they passed. The ones who weren’t staring at their feet were like walking zombies.
There were even a few shop owners who changed their hours. They made excuses that business was going well enough that they didn’t need to stay open into the evening. The prospect didn’t seem very likely to Emily. Most of the privately owned stores didn’t get business, except for the loyal customers opposing big box stores. Most everyone flocked to the convenience of one-stop shopping at bargain prices, as soon as they arrived in Lakeview.
Everyone knew the small businesses tended to have higher prices, because they couldn’t afford to compete with the big boys. Granted, there wasn’t much in the way of big box stores yet, but there was now a WinCo, Wal-Mart and talk had spread about a Ross coming to town. The main objective was to try to convert Lakeview from its small town ways to an overcrowded big city. Truth be told, it didn’t seem to be going well.
When Emily moved her gaze straight ahead, her eyes widened in surprise at what was in front of her. There was a woman speeding down the sidewalk directly in Emily’s path. Mrs. Cleary was headed right for her and didn’t seem to notice the potential head on collision. The middle aged woman’s head was down. It looked like her chin might bore a hole into her collar bone. Her shoulder length hair was falling down around her like a ball of fluff, obscuring her face completely. Emily had to laugh a little. It made her look like a frizzed out version of Cousin It from The Adam's Family.
“Good morning Mrs. Cleary.” Emily greeted brightly , giggling. Stupidly, she gave Mrs. Cleary a wave even though the gesture was made pointless because the woman wasn't looking at her.
Mrs. Cleary jumped back so hard, Emily thought she’d fall in the road and her breath caught. She was watching Emily with sheer panic, plain on her face, like a deer caught in the headlights. After a few moments, recognition seemed to dawn on her.
“Oh, hi Emily. I didn’t see you.” The smile that she plastered across her face looked false, not like her at all. It was closer to the type of smile used in a toothpaste ad, the ones where you think the model’s cheeks might burst with the pressure of their toothy grin. Honestly, it looked painful.Great, she’s apparently b ecome one of the Stepford Wives.
Mrs. Cleary’s head whipped around and back down again. “Well, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got to get… home.” Without another word the stout, older woman squeezed passed Emily and regained her speed around the corner, until she was out of sight.
That was different, Emily thought shaking her head as she resumed her own path.Maybe she’s got something going on in her family? Mrs. Cleary was the town gossip and had no trouble telling anyone,everyone else’s business. Her silence was like telling her not to breathe. Emily shuddered inwardly at the latest thought bouncing around in her mind. The choppy discourse had nothing to do with family problems. Mrs. Cleary had been recruited into the odd behavior club that seemed to be taking over the town.
Emily crossed the street directly in front of Blake’s Books and half jogged to the door. The blinds were already open, displaying the big OPEN sign in the window with bold, block lettering. Crap! George opened early today, which meant he had seen her laziness. She could picture him behind the counter with a scowl etched into his stone cold face. His eyes were probably boring holes into the door,awaiting Emily’s arrival.
When she stepped in, she was pleasantly surprise
d to see George’s cheerful daughter behind the counter in his place. Emily let out a huge sigh of relief and her shoulders instantly relaxed. Lucy, sometimes called Luce was Emily's best friend. If Emily was honest, she would have to admit that Lucy was her only real friend.
Lucy was Emily’s age . She attended a blind school out of town, which meant that many of the teenagers their agedidn’t know her well. They would see Lucy all the time and still treat her like she had the plague, usually giving her a wide birth as she passed. The thought made Emily roll her eyes heavenward, small towns can be soridiculous. It’s not like blindness was contagious. Emily wished they would get over it. Unfortunately, that wasn’t likely.
Her mind drifted back to when they were little. Lucy’s mom used to set up play dates with other kids around her daughter’s age. She wanted to give Lucy a chance to feel normal and allow the other kids to get to know her better. No chance of that in this town. Heaven forbid, they put into practice the all famous rule of not judging a book by its cover.
The entire time, the kids would act like they couldn’t wait for their parents to get back. The jerks would purposefully play games that would tease Lucy without them having to actually do the teasing aloud. This way they could blame their ignorance if they were called out on their trickery. They would feign innocence, saying that it never occurred to them that Lucy couldn’t easily play their games. Yeah right! They played things like Marco Polo but kept their eyes open. The worst was when they would go outside and say they wanted to play tag. Everyone would whoop and holler, having a blast. Poor Lucy couldn’t keep up and would end up sitting in the grass by herself, until Emily came by.
It didn’t take long for the two of them to become good friends. Lucy was amazing and funny. She had a quality about her that was more valuable than those other kids. When the others saw that Emily was Lucy’s friend, they realized she wasn't carrying leprosy and would try to play with her too. It never lasted long after the novelty wore off. They all went back to thinking Lucy was an inconvenience. Anger swelled from the memory. She allowed herself to return to the present, tucking the past away in a vault at the back of her mind.
If Lucy was up front, that meant that George was likely in back,plotting Emily’s punishment. Emily took a deep breath and started toward the counter.
The smell of books enveloped her senses, she breathed deeper, allowing it to soothe her. It was pleasant, hinting at new uncharted worlds, waiting to be discovered. A new book was something to relish and appreciate.Emily’s love of books was something she had acquired when she was barely old enough to read. That she worked at a book store was perfect, even if her boss did leave something to be desired. He wasn’t really that bad. Good old George was challenging but tolerable.
There were only a few customers browsing and they didn’t appear to need help. Emily smiled and nodded hello to the ones that glanced up as she passed. Only two of the customers smiled back. The other two, were apparently suffering from the Invasion of the Body Snatchers syndrome.
“Hey Emily. Dad’s been waiting for you and he doesn’t sound happy.” Lucy was always friendly, even when her news was not. Her bright cheery nature was infectious.
Emily couldn’t help being surprised , when her friend recognized the sound of her footsteps. Lucy couldn’t do this with everyone, just those she knew. Once known to her, it only took her one or two meetings before she had their mannerisms down to a science.
“Hey Luce what’s up?” Emily said, trying to ignore the comments about George, without much success.
“Not a lot. Same old mostly.” Her words grew softer. “Mr. Scott is over there.” She pointed a short slim finger to the right. “He’s been browsing the Travel section since we opened the door. I mean he was literally waiting on the curb when we got here.” Lucy was leaning a cross the counter towards Emily, as she spoke.
“Maybe he likes books about far off places. Your dad has been getting more and more in stock.” Emily mechanically replied with a shrug. A customer’s browsing habits didn’t seem like a big deal.
“Yeah,but he’s one of those… ones.” She maintained her low level of volume in case someone came up. This made Emily smile a little because no one could get within ear shot of Lucy without her knowing about it. She always knew how close people were in comparison to her hushed voice.
“What are you talking about?” Lucy had surprised her. Did she know something that Emily didn’t?
“Nothing I guess,” she shrugged a shoulder. “I just get a weird feeling about him. I can’t explain it.”
“I think you’re just paranoid. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Emily tried to sound nonchalant, even though she had noticed the same thing in the past. He was one of the ones Emily more recently began referring to as the pod people.
“Emily!” George’s voice bellowed from the back room. “Is that you I hear out there? Get back here,there’s work to be done. I don’t pay you to sit and visit.” His rough, deep voice was the absolute pinnacle of annoyance.
“It’s alright dad… I stopped her to talk,” Lucy c alled, trying to help. She shot Emily a sympathetic glance.
“Now,Emily!” George’s voice thundered from his office.
Lucy raised her hands in defeat. “Sorry Em.” Lucy’s dark brown eyes softened. It bothered her when her father talked down to Emily.
“Don’t worry about it.” Emily whispered to her, as she hurriedly made her way around the counter to the overcrowded room thatGeorge grumpily occupied. “He’s all bark and no bite.” Emily knew this was far from the truth but she to worry her best friend.
“Yeah right.” Lucy said sarcastically, as Emily passed her.
The back room was cluttered and dusty. As power hungry as the old man was, he had no patience or concern with being orderly. He was a total pack rat. The room was dimly lit by a single light fixture that dangled away from the ceiling by a cord, looking like it would turn to dust at any given moment. It swayed slightly from the breeze of the ventilation system.
Any books that didn’t sell were never discarded or put into a bargain bin. In fact, at Blake’s there was no such thing as a bargain bin. The sinful word was taboo to George. He didn’t do discounts.
After clearing the threshold into the time warp, she saw the familiar floor to ceiling shelves that housed the old, neglected titles. She was sure that some dated back to the beginning of time. There were tables all around the room, holding stacks of books covered in more dust. Some of the piles looked to be about ten books high. Underneath the tables were boxes of yet more out of print editions or unwanted books.
George figured, one day someone would come in looking for a title that they had been seeking for years. He would have it stored in the back and would mark up the price, under the statute of supply and demand. He wouldn’t tell the customer that, he would instead call it a classic and explain the price was for quality of good literature. Emily had seen him do this a time or two. She also knew that his vast knowledge of literary works allowed the customers to trust him implicitly. This was despite the fact that he was blowing smoke to inflate his profit. Secrets of the trade, Emily guessed.
She couldn’t help eyeing the door to the back of the room. There was a table in front of it, implying it was unused. She wondered what George kept in there. She tried to turn the knob once, but it was locked with a deadbolt, further securing its mystery. She had asked George what was in there, but he never answered.
Lucy said it was her dad’s secret book collection. Luce had never been in there either, which is why she sarcastically called it secret. She even put air quotes around the word showing her irritation, whenever the subject came up. Her rant about it was hilarious. She didn’t understand why her dad wouldn’t let her in there. It wasn’t like she could see anything anyway. Well, maybe he just had a bunch of valuable first editions and didn’t want anyone to have a chance to case the joint. He was greedy like that. That or it’s where he planned for world domination. Either option seemed likely.
Emily turned to the right, entering the office to the side of George’s desk, where his plans to take over the universe were probably located. As always, he was deeply frowning at the entrance, awaiting her passage into his lair. On the corner of his desk was the box she didn’t get a chance to stock. He gave it a disgusted glance and then turned his narrowed eyes back to her.
“Emily, even though I find your work to be mediocre, you do normally get the job done. The lack of responsibility however, makes me question your present employment status.” He spit as he patted the box, as if she needed reminding of her wrong doing.
Never mind the fact that Emily never left work undone or that she always stayed longer then her shift required. With George it didn’t matter how loyal an employee you were. It was all or nothing with good, old George.
Emily pushed aside the fury that was boiling up inside her. “I’m sorry George. It was getting late last night and I had to get home. I figured” He interrupted her so abruptly that she jumped.
“You figured you could sneak in before me this morning and get it done before I could see the work you had neglected to do,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“I’m really sorry. I figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.” She apologized meekly and bit her lip.
He glared at her over the frames of his glasses. “Well missy you figured wrong. You could have cost me money this morning. What if someone came in wanting the books you deemed to be unimportant?” His eyes told her there was no winning. She had lost before she even got to work.
She unwillingly nodded in defeat, shoulders sagging. “Sorry,it won’t happen again.”
He started to grumble further, lecturing but Lucy cut him off. “Daddy,there’s a man on the phone wanting to know if we have the latest James Patterson.”
He stood, “well, as a matter of fact,we do.” Giving Emily a quick glare, he dug through the box on his desk, where apparently the title was located. With a grunt of satisfaction, he plucked the copy out of the box and smacked it against his hand. As he moved passed them to get to the phone, he pushed against Emily’s shoulder and patted Lucy lovingly on the head. “Such a good girl,” he crooned.