“Wow, this is amazing,” I said, gazing around.
He smiled as if pleased and scanned the room. “Yes, I do love old books. You will find the fiction section here, and non-fiction over there.” He pointed in the various directions. “We have almost every book you will ever need, and what’s not here I probably have at home, or I can order in for you.”
A ginger-haired boy was seated at a table, tapping away on his laptop. Three pens—black, blue, and red—alongside a ruler and a blue notebook were all precisely spaced apart on the table beside him.
“That’s Darcy. He’s extremely good with computers.” Bob lowered his tone. “Some of the kids come here to study. Darcy comes almost every day. The other kids give him a bit of a hard time.” The ding of the door chime sounded. “Well, Amy, I will leave you to it.”
I turned my attention back to the books. There were so many that I didn’t know where to start. I went to the fiction section, spent a while perusing the aisles, pulling some out and reading the covers. Some of the books were very old and well-worn. I pulled outPride and Prejudiceand flipped it over to read the back cover.
Bob returned, taking cautious steps down the stairs, his arms stacked to his chin with books. I watched through the gaps inthe bookcase as he sat them down by a ladder, which sat neatly at the end of the display. It was secured by hooks at the top of rails that traversed the whole row of shelving, so it could glide to where it was required. He slid the ladder across, then began to climb it, his legs quivering like jelly.
I popped my book back on the shelf. “Here, please let me do that,” I offered.
He gazed thoughtfully at my face for a moment before he answered. “Oh, would you? Thank you, I’m not getting any younger, you know.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose, stepping down off the ladder. The door dinged again. He glanced toward the front, then back at me as if debating whether to stay and help me or go to assist the next customer.
“Leave them here—I will fix them. It’s a good way to see some of your collection,” I reassured him.
He wandered back to the front, and I spent the next few minutes popping the books away.Mystery and Magic of Church Heights,The Horrible History Behind Church Heights,Murder and Mayhem: A Real Account. I frowned; it seemed strange for one town to have so many stories about death.
“They just had an assignment on Church Heights at school.” I turned toward the timid, slightly high-pitched voice that belonged to Darcy. He was branch thin, with porcelain-like pale skin, and an archipelago of freckles across his nose. “I study via homeschooling now, but when I went there, we did the same thing. I wrote about the vampires that live in the mountains.”
“Vampires?” I huffed a laugh.
Darcy blushed and looked awkwardly at the floor. Vampires, like werewolves, were hyped-up myths experiencing a resurgence due to a recent undercurrent of popular books and movies.
“What did you discover, Darcy?” I asked because I felt bad for laughing at him, even if it was absurd.
His eyes lit up as he lifted his head. “History says vampires originated here. The death rate locally has always been high. Even today, people die here all the time. Our death rate per population ratio is almost five times higher than the national average. Most deaths are attributed to car accidents, missing hikers, or”—he paused and held up two fingers, moving them up and down and raising ember-colored eyebrows in a show of disbelief—“animal attacks.”
“Okay,” I answered gently. “But the landscape is harsh, predators like wolves and bears and, maybe cougars are a threat.” I threw up my hands. “And the roads are sharp and narrow, it only takes a moment of inattention . . . and I’m guessing you don’t have a large police force here, so drink driving might cause a few of the crashes. I don’t think it’s surprising the death rate is above the national average.”
Darcy nodded, his brows still raised. “That’s what they’d like you to believe, but I read the medical reports and the accounts?—”
“Wait,” I interrupted him. “You read the medical reports . . . how?”
“I hacked my way in—it’s easy,” he said matter-of-factly, with an air of confidence that wasn’t apparent when he first spoke.
“You hacked the hospital records?” I asked, impressed. “You know that’s illegal right? I hope you didn’t put your findings in your paper.”
“No, I know better than that. Last time I got into big trouble.” He frowned and darted his eyes around the room like the walls had ears, and then he leaned in and said quietly, “You won’t tell anyone I hacked in, will you?”
I held up my palms. “No. Your secret’s safe with me,” I reassured him. “You’re obviously very clever.”
“I am,” he agreed. I smiled wryly. He stood there for a long moment, staring at me, wordless.
“I better keep putting these away for Bob.” I indicated with my hand to the pile of books.
“I’ll see you later then.” He gave a tentative smile and scuttled back to his laptop.
I put the rest of the books away and continued to search for a couple to take home to read. I trailed through the choices for some time. In the end I choseTo Kill a Mockingbirdby Lee Harper, andA Midsummer Night’s Dreamby William Shakespeare. I took the books to the front counter and pulled out my wallet to show Bob my driver’s license for a form of ID.
Bob waved it off without even glancing at it. “Don’t worry about that.”
I couldn’t get a library card back home without filling out a few forms and showing two pieces of ID. Bemused, I tucked it back inside my bag.
“Are you interested in some work, Amy? Nothing permanent. I’m shutting down for a break soon. Winter is our busiest time. It would just be the odd shifts here and there. I could do with a hand cleaning, serving, putting the books back, that kind of thing. The knees don’t work like they used to, and my arthritis has been giving me hell.” He grimaced.
Working in a bookstore sounded like the perfect distraction. “I am, but I just got work at the bar. But it will probably be mainly night work, and I’m not sure how long I’m staying here for. Possibly only a few months.”
