Chapter 7
Scarlet wandered the aisles for the next hour, mapping everything in a sketchbook. New books were on the first few shelves around the entryway, and they got older as she worked her way back. There was everything from kids’ picture books to crime novels and comedies. Past the Buy Books area was one with a sign hanging from the ceiling that read Library. Checkout for a book was one dollar a week or ten dollars a month for unlimited.
In the Library area, four bench seats were built into the bookcases. Fairy lights glimmered in each archway, wired into the main lighting, creating a dreamy setting for reading.
Scarlet picked up a book left on a bench seat, a children’s book about an orphan searching for the perfect tune, the one she felt in her heart. It was a new book, one she’d not seen before. The colorful pictures drew her in with their whimsical style and the way the girl hopped along a path through a meadow to an old tree with leaves that flapped in the breeze. The old tree had a song, a whisper, and a flutter, which the girl liked but knew was not for her.
“Hey. I thought this place was closed.”
Startled, Scarlet looked up. “It is.”
Everest leaned against a bookcase and smiled at her. “Front door was unlocked. Lights were on.”
She nodded to herself. Scarlet had no desire to spend much time with anyone or grow attached to the town. She had to move on fast to put the place and the past behind her. That much she felt. “I’m sorry to mislead you, Mr. Brooks.”
She walked up front, opened the door, and motioned him out. “I will lock it behind you and turn off the front room lights.”
His smile turned into a smirk as he turned and walked deeper into the shop.
Befuddled, Scarlet locked the door and followed him into the bookshop. “Mr. Brooks!”
He circled another row, staying just out of sight. “Marco!”
Scarlet chewed a lip, trying not to laugh. She did have business to attend to and tried to catch him. It would be easier to focus without someone else wandering the aisles. “Mr. Brooks?”
“You’re supposed to say ‘Polo!’” he called out from two rows beyond her position.
She snaked around the shelves chasing after him, but he casually strolled away from her whilst reading a book like he’d done it enough times that walking the labyrinth of bookcases was muscle memory.
Scarlet finally found a way to corner him and circled the end cap only to discover it was a coat rack.
“I can tell you almost everything there is to know about this place.”
Scarlet jumped and wheeled around to find Everest resting against a bookcase, an old, leather-bound book in his hands, and a pair of black glasses on his face.
He grinned. “It’s only been a month, but I’ve missed the scent of warm paper and old leather. There is nothing quite like a paperback book, catching up with friends, or learning tie-dye on Saturdays.”
“I don’t have time to chat,” Scarlet said, growing mildly impatient.
“Oh, right.” Everest groaned. “You have to sell this place and get the heck out of this little town so you can go back to your fancy office in New York City.”
Scarlet squinted at him. He’d been polite up until that point. “Yeah. I got a call. I’m here. Now, I have more bills until I can figure out how to transfer this responsibility to someone else. I didn’t ask for this.”
“Is that all this place is to you? Responsibility and business? Money?”
She huffed and looked away. Her eyes landed on a display of books for teens with adventure themes. “I don’t remember this place except for a blip or two. My life was mostly spent in a busy urban area on the East Coast. So I look at this dusty old brick building and wonder when it’s going to crumble. I’m used to steel structures, chain coffee shops, bright lights, and lots of people who are too busy in their own lives to pay attention to anyone else. So having you, the coffee stand girl, Myrtle, and Mr. Shorboro harassing me about everything is really weird. I don’t know what to do except ignore it and move on until I’m back home where I clearly belong.”
Everest motioned to the book she’d picked up. “Do you know how that book ends?”
“What?” Scarlet felt turned around. “Why does that matter?”
“Every book is an echo of real life. She found her song not in the babbling creek or birds chirping but in silence. Her song was all of the sounds of nature.”
“Your point?”
“She set out to find her song, thinking it was a special tune she had to hum for herself when it was the opposite. It was not a song from within her, but one of everything around her.”