A Pocketful of Stardust

by J P Barnaby

  Henry drifted up through the ceiling to the apartment he’d once shared with Persephone. Noah knew the old man was going up there to think. He scraped the papers back together and put them neatly into the box. Then he took the box over to the scanner and powered it up.

  When he came back out, Kyle was sitting in the window seat, watching the street. The old pickup rolled past, and Kyle rested his head back against the wall with a sigh. They wouldn’t see him there, not with the lettering across the window, but the guy was taking an awful risk by putting himself out there like that.

  “You really shouldn’t be in the window.” Noah put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

  Kyle sat up a little higher in the window box. “Someone’s coming.”

  Whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see Kyle because of the window front lettering, but he got up and stepped back behind a shelf anyway. Noah pulled the I Heart New York keychain from his pocket and headed for the door.

  Noah unlocked the door and pulled it open with a jingle for two elderly black women. The first must have been close to ninety, walking with a cane and a spine of steel. Her gaze caught Noah’s and held it while the other woman, who appeared to be just a few decades younger, followed the woman in. Noah stood back while they passed and then closed the door behind them.

  “Good morning, ladies. I’m Noah. Is there something I can help you find?” he offered when they stood unmoving in the doorway.

  “I haven’t been in this place for so long,” the older woman said, her voice a reverent whisper.

  “I don’t even remember it,” the other woman said, glancing around with wide eyes like she hoped to conjure something from deep in her mind.

  “Chile, the police came and told me they found my daddy up in the dusty rafters here. Do you know who owns this store now? I’d just… I’d like to hear about it.” She trailed off, still gazing around the store. He wondered if she saw it as it was now or as it had been when her father owned it.

  “I found your father,” Noah said quietly. “Why don’t we come over here and sit down.” He nodded toward a small cluster of chairs in the general fiction section and relocked the door. Not that they had a lot of traffic on a weekday morning, but she deserved to hear it undisturbed.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know where my manners went. Seein’ this place….” She glanced around like she wanted to commit every book to memory. “I’m Berenice Johnson, and this is my daughter, Ellie.”

  “It so nice to meet you both. I’ve h—seen pictures. The owner had them in his apartment upstairs.” He’d almost said he’d heard so much about her, but that would lead to a lot of questions he didn’t want to answer.

  “My father was Henry McDaniel. A better man you couldn’t find. The police said that he’d been in the attic?” she prompted.

  “Yes, ma’am. My father died just a couple weeks ago, and I was up there trying to get a feel for the place again. I found an old trapdoor up to the attic, so I went to check it out. Hen— Your father was there, surrounded by some old Christmas decorations.”

  “Daddy went missin’ round about January, so he was probably up there putting stuff away. Maybe he had himself a heart attack. I didn’t even know this place had an attic.” She shifted to her left, and it looked like she was trying to take a little pressure off her right hip. Noah couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the robbery. Better she thought he died peacefully.

  “Did you sell this place to my granddad, Robert Hitchens?”

  “Whoo, chile, that was a lifetime ago. I sold the store after Daddy went missin’, musta been in the seventies?” She removed a handkerchief from a tiny handbag and dabbed at her face with it.

  “I am so sorry, ma’am. Would you like something to drink? I have some bottles of sweet tea in the back.”

  “That’s be nice,” she said, shifting again and glancing down the aisle.

  “You’re more than welcome to take a look around. I’ll be back in just a minute.” Noah started toward the back and heard the chimes again. He glanced toward the door to see Kyle’s back. He hoped Kyle had more sense than to go to work or to Sarah’s. He grabbed three bottles of tea and took three cups from the coffee bar. When he came back to the main room, the women weren’t in their seats. He found them in the classic book section.

  “I like all the detail your daddy put around these books. The décor in the cases. It gives the place a homey feel,” Berenice said as she ran a finger over a standing globe that had been there as long as Noah could remember.

  “He loved this store, put everything he had into it,” Noah told her.

  “It shows.” She followed him back to their seats. Noah poured out tea and handed them both cups, then set the empty bottles on a nearby table.

  “It may not matter,” Noah said with a sigh big enough to fill the room.

  “What does that mean?” Ellie said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was quiet, shy compared to her mother’s.

  “He left it in debt. With the e-readers and big chains, even large bookstores are going out of business. My dad saw that he needed another line of money coming in, so he started to build a coffee bar.” Noah nodded toward the small room with the machines. “Took out a loan for the renovations and equipment. We set it up, but so far it’s been a bust.”

  “So if you can’t make it work, you’ll sell the store.”

  “I already have an offer. They want to tear down the block and build something else. If I sell, they have leverage to get other people to sell too.”

  “Tear down Stardust,” Berenice said, her hand coming up to her throat. “I can’t imagine.”

  “We’re trying to stop that from happening,” Noah said, a little defensive.

  “This is a good old town,” Berenice said. “You should hold some events here. Maybe get some authors to come and sign. Get some people in through those doors.”

  “That would take time to coordinate, and I only have a few weeks left. To be honest, right now I’m hoping for a miracle.”

  “Miracles are for suckers,” Berenice spat.

  Noah stared at her, wide-eyed.

  “You need to get up off yo’ ass and make something happen. Young people feel so entitled these days, like everything should be handed to them. You gotta work for what you want, son. There’s folks in this town who would help. You need to let them.” Berenice sat back in the chair and looked thoughtful.

  Noah didn’t dare speak.

  “Ellie, honey, hand me my cellular phone,” she said suddenly, sitting up straighter in the chair.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ellie dug through an old handbag that she’d sat on the floor next to her chair. It was about the size of a rolled-up sleeping bag. It took her a minute, but she came out unscathed and handed her mother the phone.

  Miss Berenice flipped it open. Noah hadn’t seen a flip phone in years. She clicked through a couple of buttons and then hit one in the upper corner. The phone shook just a bit as she brought it to her ear.

  “Norma, it’s Berenice. Want to have some fun?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  EVERYONE IN a small Southern town rallied around the church, and in Aster, the church meant Norma Jackson. She might not have been the preacher or the preacher’s wife, but she ran the extra social activities with military precision and care. In a matter of hours, Miss Norma and Berenice, put together an event to help raise money for the bookstore. They got all the ladies in town to bake something, because in the South, that’s what people do. They bake—pies, cakes, and a ton of casseroles.

  She put out the word that after church on Sunday, people should stop by the bookstore, where she’d be selling her world-famous apple pie. Miss Edna would be baking cobblers, lots of them. And Miss Ellie had taken it on herself to make some fall pastries, making use of the pumpkins and sweet potatoes of the season. Other ladies would be pitching in as well.

  Henry gave Noah a fierce smile of pride.

  “That’s my Berenice,” he said in a choked voice, “alwa
ys helping others.” Henry had floated down from the upstairs apartment a few minutes after his daughter and granddaughter had left the store a few days before. A stunned, harsh pain swept his translucent features. It took a moment before he’d been able to speak, which surprised Noah, since Henry never really shut up.

  “I didn’t want to frighten her,” he’d said. “But goodness, I wanted to come down and talk with her again. I missed my little girl.”

  “Maybe we could ease her into it.” Noah smiled at Henry.

  Kyle and Noah had been busy making sure the coffee bar was ready—folks did like coffee with their pies. They set up some extra tables and chairs that Miss Norma had sent over from the church. Cooper said they could bring them out onto the sidewalk. Miss Ananda let him put a few in front of her store in exchange for a piece of Miss Norma’s apple pie.

  Sunday dawned a clear, crisp morning. The day started out in the fifties, but by lunchtime, it would be seventy and clear, a beautiful Georgia afternoon. Kyle and Noah sat side by side in church with Miss Edna and Miss Sarah. Noah didn’t pay much attention to the sermon—he couldn’t. Kyle’s sister and her companion were there. Miss Sarah had noticed them when she came back from the ladies’. They sat in the very last row, usually reserved for women and their babies. Side by side, they sat rigid, dressed in what passed for their Sunday best. He wore a button-down shirt that had started to yellow with age. She had her hair up off her face in a bow that matched her fraying sundress, out of place on a fall morning. Noah was surprised at just how much she looked like Kyle: same red hair, same freckles, same pale complexion.

  Kyle was watching the preacher. Noah didn’t know if he’d seen his sister or not. The sermon rose and fell, holding the congregation’s rapt attention, except for Noah, who glanced at his phone screen every few minutes through the story of Abraham’s sacrifice. By the time they reached the moral, Noah’s leg was bouncing. The preacher called up anyone who wanted to be saved. There was a teenage boy with his parents watching proudly. The preacher prayed with him, encouraging and kind.

  Then it was over, and the congregation murmured quietly as they got ready to leave.

  “I’ll take you boys through the office and out,” Miss Sarah whispered, and Miss Edna looked around.

  “I don’t see them,” Miss Edna told her.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still here.”

  “My sister?” Kyle asked, looking around, his voice almost hopeful.

  “Come with me,” Miss Sarah whispered. It was the start of a cloak-and-dagger mission to get back to the bookstore without being seen and before everyone arrived for food. They snuck back through the baptismal area, where a large pool sat empty, then through a door and across a lush hidden courtyard. They came out the back door, quiet as mice, to find Miss Edna there with Noah’s dad’s truck.

  She rode in the back as they headed for the bookstore. He didn’t see Kyle’s sister or the man as he headed for the Stardust with half the town on his heels. The Southern goodbye would give them about half an hour to get things ready before the hordes descended.

  Noah parked behind the store in the alley and unlocked the back door. Miss Norma and her church ladies had his spare key because they’d been by before service to set everything up. Kyle and Miss Edna slid out of the truck and waited for him. Then he held the door open as they passed. He followed, then locked the door behind. Henry’s feet disappeared through the ceiling as they came into the main room.

  Table after table of baked goods lined the coffee bar, while smaller ones sat randomly throughout the rows of shelves. Noah didn’t relish the thought of sticky books when people started eating and browsing, but it was better than going out of business.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a text from Yeira.

  Flight to Montana in an hour. I’ll keep you posted.

  Be safe, he sent back.

  Noah pulled the bins of discounted books outside to the sidewalk while Kyle brought tables and chairs. Then he went back in and got the coffee machines ready. By the time people started to arrive, things were already in motion.

  They figured Kyle would be safe enough surrounded by half the town.

  Miss Norma, Berenice, and Ellie arrived first, flitting around straightening the food, making it as presentable as possible. They set out dainty paper plates and napkins from the dollar store up the road. Children darted in soon after, dollar bills clutched in small hands. They went for the cookies and cupcakes first, their eyes hungrily determining which were the best. Then they brought their treasures to Noah at the register.

  They’d made it very simple. Each item was three dollars, or you could have two items for five dollars. Miss Edna had taken some cash to the bank and changed it out for fives and singles so they’d have enough change.

  Fred’s daughter, Melissa, brought him a chocolate cupcake with rainbow frosting and paid him all in change. He wondered if she’d raided her piggy bank. The concentration she’d shown counting out all the change to make three dollars disappeared in an instant when Noah scooped it into the register, and she headed back to mailman Fred to enjoy her bakery delight.

  Parents wandered in soon after. Noah hoped no one on the street got angry for them taking up all the parking. But maybe after they filled up on sugar, they could stroll down the sidewalk and pick up a crystal, or maybe a knickknack from one of his neighbors in another shop.

  Miss Berenice wandered up the classics aisle with a Langston Hughes book in one hand and her cane in the other. Miss Ellie followed up from behind with two plates of peach cobbler, one in each hand. As she got closer, an idea struck Noah, and he glanced around.

  “Miss Berenice,” he said, coming closer, “may I ask you something?”

  “Sure you can, young Noah.” She stopped and closed her book, balancing it on her slender hip.

  “All these classics back here with those things from the beyond like Hamlet or The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” He waved his hand at the shelves surrounding them. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  “Well, I’ll tell you. As a good Christian woman, I’d have to say no. When we die, God takes our souls. But as a human being who has lived a long lifetime, I think there are things that happen we can’t explain. One day we’ll learn the truth, but for now, we have to take things on faith. Why?”

  “I was just curious.”

  She scrutinized his face. “That’s an odd question to come up out of the blue.”

  “I’m writing a book. Trying to come up with ideas.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but he felt bad saying it anyway.

  They’d left the door open to the cool morning to keep the chimes from constantly sounding, so he didn’t hear when Hope arrived, but simply glanced up to see her staring at him from the door. She was a ragdoll come to life. A young, red-haired girl with a button nose in a hand-sewn dress. A foot shorter than her companion, who stood with a protective hand on her shoulder, she held his gaze for a long time.

  Then a teenager came up to the counter and handed him a piece of chocolate cake, and when Noah looked up again, she was gone.

  “Miss Edna, could you take the register, please?” Noah asked, his eyes darting across the room, frantically searching for the girl. He needed to warn Kyle. “You just hit the total amount of each sale and put the money in the drawer.”

  “Noah, I know how to run a register, even this old thing.” She gave him a sardonic look and he headed straight for the coffee bar, which seemed to be doing a brisk business. Miss Sarah was making change out of a cigar box as Kyle served cup after cup to waiting patrons.

  “My God, have you tried these hand pies?” Thad asked, spinning to face Noah in the coffee bar doorway. “They are heaven in fried dough!” He took another bite, daintily wiping the sticky glaze from the corners of his mouth.

  “I haven’t,” Noah said, searching over Thad’s shoulder.

  “Oh, this is my last one, don’t tell my trainer.” He put a hand on Noah’s arm.
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br />   “Found her,” Noah said.

  “Found who—” Thad started to ask when Noah darted into the coffee bar. He couldn’t get very far because of the milling crowed, but she shifted from foot to foot near the window. Kyle was preoccupied filling orders and hadn’t seen her. Her companion took a step forward, but Hope put a delicate hand on his arm. She looked up at him, and there was no challenge in her expression. He stepped back and let her get in line for the counter. Noah couldn’t stop himself from watching as she moved to third in line, then second. Kyle looked up, ready to take the next order, and froze. Miss Sarah froze too. Time itself came to a halt.

  Noah sidestepped a few people and then stood near the end of the counter, his eyes on the newly reunited siblings.

  “Hello, brother,” Hope said. “May I have some tea?”

  It took a long moment for Kyle to move. The length of the line behind her must have spurred him on. He grabbed a cup, filled it with hot water, and turned to the packets.

  “What kind would you like?” He showed her the choices, and she selected one with a bright orange hue.

  She stood at the counter a little too long, making a show of opening the tea bag and dropping it into the water. With a flick of annoyance at Kyle and Miss Sarah, she turned and walked back to her companion, leaving the wrapper on the counter and no money in the till. Kyle watched her walk away with a look that broke Noah’s heart.

  Then he swiped the garbage and dropped it into his little can under the counter. The pair watched him for five, maybe ten minutes as he stood in public, surrounded by people. Noah couldn’t stand the pain in Kyle’s face, so he skirted the room to where they were standing.

  Hope sipped her tea, and her companion stood in stony silence with an expression of unquelled rage.

  “Is there anything I can help you find?” Noah asked with a false cheeriness that fooled no one.