Chapter Two-Hers
Once outside on the busy city street, I pulled on my noise-canceling headphones and made my way towards the bus stop to go slightly out of the city. I always hated the city. It was too crowded, buildings were too close and stacked on each other, and no one looked out or cared for anyone else, only going through their own lives. Sometimes, it was nice to think that no one knew me, that I wasn't the psychotic rich girl, but the truth is the city left me extremely lonely. Even as I sat on this bus seat staring out the window at the scene, the deep hole of loneliness in my heart made me think of happier times with my father. He was my whole world once. His death left an open wound that the following years held open like a rib spreader. I felt tears well up, but I quickly blinked them away.
After a while, I rounded the corner, getting an entire look at the small, narrow street my bookstore sat upon. The one-lane-brick-lined road reminded me of a small mountain town filled with a butcher shop, an old-fashioned barber shop that shared a wall with a full-service beauty salon, a bakery, a photo studio, a hippie-smoke shop, etc. My bookstore fit right in, and the other business owners welcomed me with open arms. Mother hated the location. She always claimed it looked like the wrong kind of street for a proper woman of high society.
A sweet, buttery aroma alerted me to the arrival of Mr. Cordeau, so I removed my headphones. I smiled humbly at him as he held up a tray of fresh lemon loaf with the icing just slightly running down the sides. "Mr. Cordeau! You don't have to make these for me!"
"Mademoiselle! We are neighbors. We take care of our own! Plus, a little bit of sweet cake will not kill you." He fussed. Mr. Cordeau was an older married man with salt and pepper hair pulled into a low ponytail. His face wore so many happy lines that I felt an instant kinship. His wife was a stout French woman who mothered the world as much as she did her four almost-grown children. The first time I walked down this way scouting store locations nearly a year ago, The Pastry Pumpkin lured me in with its heavy lemon-blueberry scent. My overly sensitive nose pulled me to the window, and drool ran down the side of my mouth. Since then, Ms. Cordeau will 'borrow' bargain romance books in exchange for all the lemon-blueberry pastries I could want.
"How can I say no to that? I'll take two slices." I held out my hand in mock defeat. "Tell Ms. Cordeau the next book is on the house."
"Fantastique!" Mr. Cordeau made a face and grumbled something in French. He beamed, wrapping two slices in parchment paper before handing it to me. I smiled and then headed to open my bookstore.
Hours later, I sat on the stool behind the counter, peering out the storefront window. The rain that pounded on the window was giving me a pressure headache. I knew I needed to sort through the books in the box at my feet; however, my motivation was lost. Rain was one of my favorite times to be awake because the world was so silent. That sullenness was a relief to my constantly overwhelmed senses.
My mind wandered, and I glanced around the street, people watching and wondering what their everyday lives looked like. A man stood underneath the awning for the store next to mine, and a small family of three quickly shuffled down the street, huddled under an umbrella. The kids' excited faces as they splashed each parent made me chuckle. A longing for carefree days tugged at the edges of that open wound.
A sharp barking rang through my ears, causing me to look kiddie-corner down the road. There was a woman in a tight jogging outfit a dog tied around her waist with a leash. The beautiful golden lab stood at attention, facing the small alleyway that opened between the hardware store and a newly opened fancy sandwich shop. I watched, mesmerized by whatever the dog found so threatening. After a few moments, the woman tugged her dog away, yet the canine fought profusely not to turn it back on the alleyway. With the dog out of the way, I finally saw it. A slight panic arose in my chest as two glowing circles emerged from the mouth of the clearing. My breath caught in my throat. This cannot be happening again. I froze in place, trying to figure out what was reality and what was not. The dog sprinted back to assert itself in the direction of the glowing orbs. The frustrated woman peered into the alley around the dog and down the street to see what was setting the animal ablaze. The fact the woman didn't see the orbs meant I was probably hallucinating them.
When I found my breath again, I slowly closed my eyes, reminding myself to take deep breaths in and out, counting to five between each intake and exhale. Calmly, I opened my eyes again; the woman and the dogs were gone, yet the orbs remained. This time, they moved up and down in a slow pattern as if they were trying to view me across the street. I gripped my phone with shaking fingers, flipping it to the camera setting. Viewing scenes through a lens was a trick I learned from other patients to help determine reality from hallucination. I closed my eyes again, silently praying that this was-- I wasn't sure what I wanted it to be. I opened my eyes again, still staring into the reflective surface, wondering if eyes were peering into my soul before bringing the camera up again. I looked down at the digital screen of my phone, and there were no glowing circles in the frame. I quickly looked back towards the area and only saw darkness, confirming that my mind was active with false images.
"Hey, gorgeous. "A voice in front of the desk counter made me jump, nearly dropping my phone. I turned to view a man holding up one of our riskier books. "Whoa there; didn't mean to scare you, sweetie."
I cringed at the way he said, sweetie. It felt like each letter sound was dripping with sleaze and superiority. "Hey, Chad. It's okay, you just surprised me."
He brushed the corners of his bottom lip with his forefinger and thumb while his eyes raked over my body. It felt like his hands were on my body, and I had to suppress the urge to gag. Chad was a new customer. He showed up two weeks ago, coming in nearly every day before closing to do 'research'. Every book he purchased contained sexual exploits, which he kept referring to as 'research to become an expert.' I don't usually judge customers' choices; however, Chad seemed more interested in making me uncomfortable than actually reading the books. He leaned forward, putting his elbow on the counter, emphasizing his latest research material. The smell of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne burned my throat and nose as he gave me a sly grin. "I know of a lot of ways to surprise you."
"I'm not a fan of surprises," I said carefully, attempting to be nonchalant as I scanned the barcode on the back of the book and began to ring him up.
"Well then, instead of a surprise, let me take you on a date." He flashed his stained teeth, making me cringe at the thought. He handed over his card to pay, not taking his pervy eyes off me.
"Oh. That's very sweet of you, Chad, but I'm not interested in dating anyone. "I finished bagging his book and slid his card and the receipt across the counter before extending the bag to him. I wanted to avoid touching him at all costs.
His whole demeanor switched almost instantly, anger set into his gaze. His nostrils flared a few times before the sleazy façade snapped back into place. "Come on, it's just dinner. We've been dancing around this sexual tension for a while now, sweetie."
He reached for the bag handle but gripped onto my wrist instead. His fingers dug deep into my flesh, and I winced. Chad's eyes danced. My attempts to yank my arm free did nothing. I scanned the rest of the store; it was almost closing time, leaving Chad and I as the only two people. The rain outside made the usually packed street nearly empty. A sickening feeling that he planned this sunk into the pit of my stomach. The sudden jingle from the bells on the storefront door surprised him long enough for me to jerk my arm back out of his grasp. I gripped the tender wrist with my other hand, not wanting to remove my eyes from Chad. The man by the door shook rainwater off, asking if we were still open.
I swear Chad growled at the customer before snatching his bag and card off the counter and stomping out of the store. I quickly let the customer know that we closed 2 minutes ago, and he left with a nod of understanding. I rapidly locked the door, then headed for the back entrance to my apartment just above the store. I triple-checked all my windows and doors to make sure they were secure. Once in my apartment, I gently rubbed the reddening fingerprints on my wrists. I already knew the drill to treat bruises from experience. When I finally crawled into my bed, sleep evaded me, replaced by repetitive nightmares.