[Secret,Risky,Possession,Resource,Emergency ]

  I came into the store at seven forty five, an ungodly hour of the day even for an atheist. Only to find Bianca still hunched over my finances.

  “Bianca please tell me you are a masochist and just got up extra early.”

  “Nope, I actually love economics, turns out I just hate capitalism. I actually have the title for my next book. Socialize Your Finances, catchy hmm. Now you think that your aunt was a financial wiz and you’re a failure right. Turns out you are both piss poor at it. Some writer who lived here in the nineteen seventies set up the whole plan: the ten percent royalty giveback, everything. But the damn hippie was so optimistic that the hippies would take over and most of the world's problems would dissolve. He never planned for the economic mess where CEO’s take such a large percentage of a company's money, that there is little left over for the actual employees that do the actual work. If the hippies had won in the long run there would be no corporations. Their food budget was way lower even taking into account inflation. They also had a huge kitchen garden on the property and ate primarily vegetarian meals. All that aside, it was so well set up and your NDA writer so generous it worked for nearly fifty years. But you know today's dollar is worth about seventeen percent of what it was fifty years ago, that means you lost eighty three cents on every dollar yet neither you or your aunt ever changed anything about the original agreement. Plus booksales are way below the levels that they were in the nineteen seventies. What all this means is that the old deal is dead, but it doesn’t mean that the store and the collective are dead. I’m drafting up a ‘New Deal’ much like Roosevelt’s where everyone gets protected. It’s going to take a while, call it a passion project. The point is, you focus on staying out of jail, and if you can, find justice for Lachlan, because that idiot Jones is only focused on you. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a damn about Lachlan, he only wants his hypothesis to be right, justice be damned.”

  “Bianca, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “I’ll tell you exactly how, I’m going to prepare a powerpoint presentation to show how our finances stand right now, and how they will be if you and the other writers agree to my ‘New Deal’. If you think what I propose is fair to everyone involved you will vote for yes to tearing up the old agreements.”

  “Yes, absolutely yes.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Just then there was a rapping at the door, Anais was standing there tapping her foot. Some things never change. I let her in.

  “I’ll be right back, I need to go up and get my coat.”

  “I said eight did I not, it’s five after.”

  “Yeah, I’m surprised you were late, but it’s okay, I forgive you.”

  “I was not late, I was knocking, and you two were ignoring me.”

  “I’ll be right back, I still need my coat, Anais.”

  I started for the stairs when I heard.

  “I’m Bianca, Anais, you used to be a lawyer, you’ll need to draft some contracts for Laura.”

  “I can't, I was disbarred.”

  “Yes you can, in New York two private individuals can draft a contract, no lawyer necessary. I just want you to look over what I write up, point out anything that I put in that might not hold up in court and tell me how to fix it. I’d also like you to give Laura your opinion on the fairness of the contract to her and the writers. The last time this was done was nearly fifty years ago, things have changed a lot since then.”

  When I came back, Bianca and Anais had their heads together. Bianca was writing furiously, Anais was shaking her head. Yes I was used to that look of utter displeasure. I just hoped that Bianca didn’t take it personally. Just to push her buttons I said.

  “Well, you made me get up this early, let’s get going.”

  Instead of the sharp retort that I’d expected. All I got was a fine. So, something Bianca had said to her must have sparked an idea. But with that we were headed out the door.

  “Why don’t we take my car Anais?”

  “Because I like my car and because I like to drive.”

  “Because you are a control freak.”

  “I am not a control freak, I’m disciplined. Riding with other people makes me nervous. I can never tell if the person is concentrating on the road, on me the passenger, or just daydreaming. In your case, I’d guess that you were both talking to me and daydreaming at the same time.”

  “I don’t daydream, Anais, I think. I have a lot of thoughts, they need to be carefully curated. Especially now that I no longer have perfect recall.”

  “You are going to need a note taking app, Laura.”

  “I already have Obsidian.”

  “Why did you have a note taking app when you had perfect recall? It doesn't make any sense.”

  “Because I didn’t use the app to remember, I used the app to inspire and make connections between ideas, which creates new ideas. But now that I don’t have a perfect recall it’ll be even more useful. Also I don’t know if I lost the ability of perfect recall. I’m pretty sure that I haven’t lost any memories since I was concussed. My perfect recall may work perfectly going forward. It may just be that memories before being concussed are fuzzy. That’s what I’m hoping anyway.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want all of your memories to return?”

  “Because this way I get to read my favorite books all over again. I still have this general feeling that the Lord of the Rings is the single greatest story I've ever read, and because of the way that I revere it, it is the greatest book that will ever be written, in my opinion. It’s not perfect, more strong female characters would have improved it. But the ones that are there are so well written, it’s easy for me to forgive the lack of more.”

  “So you just want to have a bad memory for reading purposes?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are an idiot.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, reading fiction is for enjoyment, reading non-fiction is for improvement.You should want to remember what you read, it’ll make you smarter. Fiction doesn’t make you smarter, it makes you entertained.”

  “Not so, Anais. The death penalty is a decidedly non fiction subject right?”

  “Yes absolutely.”

  “Well my entire view of the death penalty was completely informed by fiction.”

  “Let me guess, Lord of the Rings, “Frodo: 'It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill Gollum when he had the chance.' Gandalf: 'Pity? It's a pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends”

  “Yep, you got it Anais. I think it may be the only quote that I remember exactly, it’s like it was baked into my DNA and no amount of head trauma will ever dislodge it.”

  Then we pulled into the volunteer firehouse. It looked closed, the lights in the garage where the trucks were stored seemed to be off. But there was a light in an office that was part of the fire station.

  I walked over and the door was unlocked so I opened it and entered, Anais was right behind me. A young man sat at a desk, in a very neat and tidy office. He was scrolling something on his phone when we arrived but he placed it face down on his desk.

  “How can I help you ladies?”

  “We are looking for the name of a very pretty blonde female firefighter.”

  “Aren’t we all,” he replied. “But I’m sorry, but I couldn’t possibly give out private information about any of the volunteers. That would be a clear violation of their privacy.”

  “Let me tell you why, we are asking. A young man who lived at the writer’s collective was dating a blonde firefighter. He has died and I’m trying to put together a little memorial of his time here. That’s why I’d like to speak with her, to see if she has any little stories about his time here that his parents might find comforting. I know they enjoyed hiking together. So if she had any stories about hikes they took or even just about the pub in town. I’ll give you a card to my bookstore. Please just explain to her what I’d like to talk to her about. She could come to the store, or I’d be happy to come back here or anywhere that she felt comfortable speaking.”

  “I can’t legally say for sure if I know about the person, you are talking about ma’am, just like you wouldn’t hand out information about your employees to someone who walked in off the street. But I will say this. If I do come across this firefighter, I’ll explain the importance of your visit.”

  “Thanks very much.”

  Then, Anais drove me back to the bookstore.

  “So are we going back to the pub tonight?”

  “Sure, it can’t hurt, Anais, I’ll call Amy. I owe her for cleaning the crime scene, the least I can do is to buy her some beers. Let’s say we all meet here at eight, then we can all walk down together.”

  It was only nine am and I had an hour before the store was due to open. So I planned on reading the last of Lachlan’s novel. I could skim the sex scenes and maybe have it read before we go to the pub tonight. First I called Amy, and invited her to go to the pub with us, but she had a double shift today at the dispatch office. It dawned on me after I hung up that Amy might very well know who the pretty blonde firefighter is.

  I was about to call her back when a very pretty very blonde young woman knocked on the bookstore door. I went over and opened the door hoping it might be Lachlan's firefighter. I wasn’t disappointed.

  “I know you’re not open, but I’m looking for Laura?”

  “I’m Laura, please come in. I’m guessing that nice young man at the firehouse called you.”

  “Yes exactly, my name is Faith, Faith Sinclair. I met Lachlan a few weeks ago.”

  I made us some tea and we sat down in the reading nook.

  “Wow, it’s really gorgeous here, and what a nice view of the lake. You must love reading in here.”

  “I do, there is nothing in life that I enjoy more to be honest. But come over any time, that’s what this space is for. You don’t have to buy the book here to read here. I take it you enjoy reading?”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “I love it, I have ever since my dad read the very first book to me. I only wish he still could.”

  “Oh, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “No, no, god, no, he didn’t die, he retired and moved to Florida.”

  “Well at least you can go visit him, unlike if he was dead.”

  “Nope I told him, if he wants to see me he can get his ass back to Lake Placid. Florida is too flat, swampy and Republican for my tastes. Just look out your picture window, the high peaks. If I ever leave the high peaks it’ll be for Colorado. I read that the highest mountain in Florida is Space Mountain. That’s just sad.”

  I laughed.

  “Not for Mile High city, you must be an Aspen girl? Am I right?”

  “One hundred percent right. But you are going to open soon and I came to tell you about Lachlan. I met him down at the Brew House. I watched him type away for around two hours finally I just had to go over and ask what he was typing? I assumed he was a programmer or a hacker maybe, but I never would have guessed a novelist. I just hope that his publisher still publishes his book, now that he is gone. I mean it sounds gripping. A three year old witnesses a murder in the woods, and the serial killer is a woman. Plus setting it right outside Tupper Lake is genius.”

  “The piece he gave me to read was a science fiction story, first contact with an alien species when they arrive on Earth.”

  “Yeah, he told me about that one too, but I wasn’t really that into that one. It sounded like a bunch of incels dreaming up their ultimate fantasies. A bunch of large breasted alien chicks who just do everything the male Earthlings ask them to. Nope I told him, the other story was creepy but also very realistic, like it was ripped from the headlines kind of thing.”

  “That does sound like a vast improvement, over the science fiction story. Did he give you a pdf?”

  “No, he said the only copy of the story he had was hand printed and promised to show me sometime, but he never had time.”

  I was going to have to search his room assuming the police hadn’t already taken all of his writing. I assume they have all of his electronics.

  “Did you go hiking with him on McKenzie Mountain?”

  “No, that was my roommate Sarah, do you want me to ask her to come see you? She said they had a great time. They even meditated on the summit for like an hour. He didn’t really strike me as the spiritual type, every time he was with me, he just wanted to have sex. Maybe he just wasn’t attracted to Sarah.”

  Or maybe Sarah didn't want her roommate knowing that she’d had an intimate moment with Lachlan on the summit.

  “Sure if Sarah has the time, I’d love to talk to her about Lachlan. The more I can relay to his parents the better. It sounds like Lachlan was living his best life here.”

  “He was but he was really serious about his work too. I mean he’d write for hours in the pub, that’s dedication to your craft.”

  Or a really sly way to pick up girls easily impressed by writers. Hazel had implied as much last night.

  “Faith, thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me, I’m sure Lachlan’s parents will appreciate hearing about his time here.”

  “Your welcome, Laura, it was really nice to meet you. I really love your reading nook. My condolences to Lachlan’s parents. I have to scoot, I have a date, we're hiking up Haystack for a picnic lunch.”

  “You have a beautiful day for it, enjoy.”

  “Oh, I will.” and she gave me a wicked grin. Oh to be young again.

  It was almost time to open, so when I let Faith out, I just left the door unlocked and turned the sign to open. All my paperwork and Bianca were gone from the counter, so I hoped she’d gone to bed. I sprinted up the stairs to retrieve my laptop. I wasn’t wasting any more ink or paper on Lachlan’s novel. I’d just read the pdf right on my laptop.

  Chapter seven opened with two alien females and one human male, it ended with four alien women and one Earth male and female. There were five or six other sex scenes in between but aside from that still no plot, no story, no character development. Except for some reason the alien female's breasts now seem to be actually growing. The narrator posited it was something in the cows milk, that the alien women just couldn’t get enough of, much like our men.

  I can’t believe that Lachlan didn’t see just how repetitive and boring this was. The short story he’d submitted to me for admittance to the collective wasn’t great but it was miles above this tripe. Chapter eight was much the same, I won’t bore you with numbers of aliens and women and men. But everything was escalating. By chapter nine I wasn’t quite halfway, I stopped reading and just skimmed sex scene after sex scene, there didn’t seem to be any writing in between scenes. Maybe it was meant to be one very long and boring orgy.

  Chapter ten was set in a campsite in Tupper lake. It was from the point of view of a three year old girl. She was camping in the woods, sleeping in a tent with her parents. She woke up very early, with that misty morning light. Her parents were having sex, they hadn’t noticed that she woke up or that she’d wandered from her tent, wishing to be away from her parents who she thought were hurting each other. Im bare feet and her nightgown, with her teddy bear tucked under her arm she walked down a forest path. She came to a spot where the trail split.

  Her teddy told her to take the left trail; it was downhill and would be easier. So she obeyed, the trail split a few more times and always it was left and downhill that teddy directed her.

  The bell by the door rang. Now this was sounding like a psychological horror story, the six limbed aliens, thank the stars were no longer part of the picture. This writing was so much better than the science fiction novel, but also very much elevated from the short story he’d sent me. How had this ended up in chapter ten, it’s like you go to a multiplex and you are watching the first reel of a porn film, but suddenly when the first reel ends, you have the second reel of Psycho or Jaws.

  A young girl was browsing the graphic novels.

  “Let me know if you need anything, I yelled.”

  “I’m okay.” came a soft reply

  Mostly the kids didn’t have the money for graphic novels which are pricey, so they either read them standing by the shelves or sometimes would bring them down here to the reading nook. I went back to the story. The little girl was truly lost now, but she didn’t realize that she had great faith in her teddy bear, seemingly more than she had in her parents. At least that is what the writing made me feel like. I don’t know why I looked up when I did, but I watched the girl slip the graphic novel into her backpack.

  I put down the laptop on the coffee table quietly and walked to the front door. It wasn’t long before the girl came out of the aisle headed my way, but when she saw me she ducked down another of the aisles. Legally I couldn’t really do or say anything until she attempted to leave the store. So I puttered around with the book display. I wanted to teach this girl a lesson, I wouldn’t call the cops or her parents but I’ll threaten her with both. I just don’t want her learning how to steal things here in my store. So how to teach her a lesson, without cops or parents. Consequences for your actions. Yep, that would do nicely. Finely she must have decided it was safe. She started for the door, but just before she made it to the door I stepped in front of her.

  “I’m sorry but I’m going to need to see inside your bag before you leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I saw you put a graphic novel you didn’t pay for in your backpack.”

  She didn’t say anything. I wondered if Eve had coached her on how to survive an interrogation.

  “If you don’t want to show me,” I pulled out my cellphone, I can call the police and they can check it.”

  “Isn’t that illegal search and seizure?"

  I had no idea if that’s how it worked. I’d never seen an actual shoplifter before. But she was about four ten, or four eleven so I felt confident I could take her, I must out weigh her by at least fifty pounds. But she looked more scared than I felt, I think.

  “Not if an adult witnesses a crime, then the police can search and seize.”

  “I wasn’t going to steal it.”

  “If it’s in your bag and you were headed for the door I find that very hard to believe and many of my friends say that I’m very gullible.”

  This earned me a laugh.

  “It’s true, I wasn’t going to steal it, I was just going to read it and I would have been very careful with the spine, no one would even know it had been read.”

  “A careful shoplifter, with a concupiscence towards danger, why not read it in the reading nook?”

  “I don’t want anyone to see me reading it. We used to have this in the school library, but it got pulled on a parent’s complaint. I’ll go put it back, and I promise to never come in your store again please. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Don't do the crime if you can't do the time. That’s what a stupid TV cop used to say to the perps when he caught them. Just in case you don’t get the lingo your the perp. Come on hand over the book.”

  She unzipped the backpack pack and handed over Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic a great book by Alison Bechdel.

  “Okay follow me.”

  I was right next to the door and started for the cash register. I hoped she would follow, but I gave her the opportunity to just dash out the front door, getaway and never come back. But she followed me dutifully if a bit reluctantly.

  “How old are you?”

  “I just turned sixteen.”

  “Perfect, your sentence for attempted shoplifting is a three week unpaid internship here at the store. If you do a good job, and work hard at the end of the three weeks, there may be a job offer. Possibly, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, this is after all a punishment. Do you know how to run a cash register?”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to rob me if I show you how?”

  “No.”

  “Good answer.” So I showed her how to ring up a sale and also how to make a refund, but that hardly ever happens. I made a fake purchase and a fake return. She did everything perfectly.

  “Okay if you are going to work here I’ll have to call you something, and if you wind up getting a paying job, you’ll need a social security number. So you better tell me your real name just in case.”

  “It’s Lucy Hernandez.”

  “Ok Lucy, your first task is to go over to the romance section and find me the most embarrassing cover you can find. One where the man is half naked and the woman’s dress is usually torn. Those are called bodice rippers and they are just about our best sellers.”

  She came back with a particularly salacious one.

  “Now can you imagine reading that in front of the class or on the bus or in the cafeteria.”

  She shook her head no. I pulled out a book sox. Put it on the book. The fabric completely covered the front and back covers of the paperback. I held it out to her.

  “With this on you can sit in the front row of church and the preacher will think what a devout young lady reading her prayer book. The best part is when you get done with the book and pass it on to your friends, you still have the sox for your next read. It’s no one’s business what you read but your own. Every bookseller takes a solemn vow to never reveal another person’s purchase history. That’s why you should buy your books from me instead of Amazon. They never took the pledge. Raise your right hand.”

  She did.

  “Repeat after me. “It’s nobody's business what anyone else reads.”

  “It’s nobody's business what anyone else reads.”

  “Only fascists ban books.”

  “Only fascists ban books.”

  “Perfect I’m Laura by the way, you are now an official book seller intern.”