by Penny Knight
“Stop it.” He grabs my hand and forces my attention. “Listen, snap out of this. This isn’t you. You are not this person.”
My eyes go wide as I hear his harsh tone. I blink to slow the fall of my tears.
“What are you going to do, Elita?” He sits on his knees strong and tall. “You told me once. Do you remember? You said what are you going to do? Sit and cry? How does that help you? Sometimes things are shitty, sometimes you get knocked down,” he brushes the wetness from my cheeks with his thumb, “but you don’t give up. You make the best with what you have. And you make the choice. Make the choice to move on. Make the choice to succeed.”
I can’t help a small laugh to escape my lips. I remember that. The day he came home beat up from that bully at school. I forced him to soldier up and stop crying.
“I sounded like a bitch,” I say.
“Yeah, you were. Correction, are.” I laugh. Only Topher can make me laugh when I’m falling apart. “But that is why I love you,” he smiles at me.
I draw in a long savouring breath. “I love you, too.”
“Aww. If you were a boy, I would so kiss you right now.”
I laugh and throw my arms around him, squeezing. “You are right, though,” I pull back. “Not about me being a bitch. But about me being a baby.” I throw the quilt off and jump out of the bed.
“Uh, ok,” he stands. “God, now where are you going?”
“My room to take a shower.” It’s too weird being in Leo’s bed. Too intimate.
“Oh, ok.”
I grab his hand. “So, I’m not being a baby, but I was just wondering if you could stay with me tonight?” I ask softly.
“Of course.” He pulls me into him. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“This is a waste of time.” I throw my pen across the room.
It’s been hours, and my eyes are getting blurry looking at the screen. Searching online for any information about the mark is coming up empty.
“Just keep looking,” Topher says.
I stop myself from picking up the closest thing to me and throwing it at him. I really need to control my anger better.
We’ve come back to the office the next day. Much to the disapproval of Leo, Topher and even Broderick. But I slept well and didn’t want to be holed up in the penthouse. God, seriously, that is a first world problem.
I need to find more information about who I am. What the mark means. Anything. But, I’ve looked at hundreds of symbols this morning. And there’s nothing close to what I have. My patience is wearing thin, and I’m at tipping point.
“Can’t you do some CSI thing and scan it? Run it through a database and get a match?” I ask.
“Yeah, ok E, I will just whip that up.”
“Uh, yeah, you have nothing better to do.” I know I’m asking for it, but I’m super frustrated.
He shoots me a death stare. He has been working hard trying to decrypt the drive, but I can tell it is grating on his last nerve, too.
“There has to be something I’m missing.”
“Manners?” he says.
“Funny.” Although it feels good to be bickering with him. Normal.
“Maybe instead of just looking for the picture, you can see if you can break up the mark. Maybe it’s a bunch of symbols together and you just have to decode it? Run an image search.” Topher says.
That’s a good idea. “See, that is why you’re the smart one and I’m the pretty one.”
He scoffs and I smile.
“Here,” I pass him my phone. “Can you please take a picture of it?” I move my hair around my neck so he can get a clear shot.
“What is that?” Tony interrupts. He does not look happy standing at the door. The flash goes off on my phone and I drop my hair down. Tony is not a tattoo guy.
“Did you get a tattoo?”
“Uh, yeah.” So much easier saying yes than having to explain the truth.
“What were you thinking? Your body is not a canvas. I thought you were smarter than that?” He shakes his head.
“Come on, Tony. It’s pretty cool.” Topher laughs.
“Cool?” Tony shakes his head again. “Let me see.”
Topher passes the phone to Tony. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I’ve had it the whole time you’ve known me. You haven’t even noticed it. I always have my hair down.” I try to calm him before the vein in his neck explodes. I do like that he’s protective; it shows that he cares.
He doesn’t respond. He stares in a daze at the picture, his expression unreadable. I look to Topher and he shrugs.
“Well.” He hands the phone back to me. “It is what it is. I have to head out now.” His curt response throws me off a bit.
“Um, I thought you had a meeting at eleven?” I ask.
“Cancelled. I will be out all day. I will see you both on Monday?” He turns and storms off.
“He was pissed,” Topher chuckles.
“He’s always pissed.” I return to my desk and open the picture on my phone. “He’ll get over it.”
“Ok, let’s go over the facts that we know,” Topher says as he walks over to the white board where we have solved many cases. All morning we’ve been diving deep into my current drama. We’ve been thrown into a mystical underworld and have been playing catchup ever since.
He takes off the lid from the blue marker and waits.
“Ok,” I swing my chair around. “First, the dreams.”
“Weird dreams,” he says as he writes.
“The mark,” I add. “Oh, and Leo and that weird reaction I had from him.”
“I think that’s called sexual tension.” He jots it down.
“You are hilarious.” I scrunch up a piece of paper and hit him straight on the back of his head.
“What?” He turns, grinning from ear to ear. “I am not joking, it’s true.”
“We are being hunted by Immortalies. Living in a hotel because we can’t go home. We’ve nearly been killed, and we have to go back every night before sunset to a strange man’s place who is dangerous, untrustworthy and, well, just plain weird. And here you are. Still trying to set me up.” I can’t believe how his mind works.
“Firstly E, I am not trying to set you up. Just stating facts. Second, I would say Leo has been trustworthy so far. He keeps us safe, fed, and he helped you with that psycho killer last night.”
“Don’t be naïve. He may have done all those things, but we don’t know him to trust him. I doubt he is generally this do-gooder person who just wants to help. I can tell there’s more to the story than he’s letting on.”
“Of course, you think that. You don’t like people. You don’t trust anyone.”
“I trust you,” I say.
“Franziska?” he yells.
“Yeah, of course. I trust her, too,”
“No, E. I mean, Franziska. She called when you were all passed out. I forgot to tell you. Wasn’t she looking into it for you?”
“And you’re just telling me this now?” Quickly I grab my phone and see the voicemail icon. When I check, it’s her. I dial and listen.
Topher taps his foot, waiting for me to hang up. “Well?”
I turn to the computer screen and open Google maps. I enter Hopetoun, Victoria.
“Just over four hours away.” I press print on the screen. “It’s just past ten. If we leave now, we can make it back by sunset.”
“Where are we going?” he picks up the directions from the printer and reads. “Uhh, why?”
“Franziska thinks her sister stashed the book in the town bookstore. She said it could give us the answers.” I throw my phone in my bag and swing it over my shoulder as I get up and walk to the door.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Topher stands in front of me.
“What? We have a lead. Why would we wait?”
“This isn’t a good idea. It’s over four hours away. It will be cutting it close. You know what happened last night. Leo will be pissed if you’re late again.”
“We
aren’t following some killer. Just going for a drive. It’s a bookstore. What bad things happen at a bookstore?”
“What bad things happen at a bookstore, she says.” Topher sits staring at the open road, trying to find a sign.
“We aren’t technically at the store yet,” I say.
“It’s been hours. We’re lost. Face it.” His stomach rumbles. Not a good sign. When Topher’s hungry, he gets cranky.
“We were lost.” I didn’t realise we would lose service, stupid phone. “I know where we are now.” I hoped anyway.
My phone rings from the back seat where I had thrown it in anger after it lost reception. “Can you get that? Maybe the GPS is back in service.”
He leans in the back and manages to pick it up, just before it stops ringing.
“Boss,” he answers. “How’s it going?” There’s a pause. “Yep, ok, I will put you on speaker now.”
He looks at me and shrugs, hitting the speaker button.
“Hello,” I say
“Elita, Topher, are you guys coming back to the office?” Tony asks.
“Do you need us to, boss?” Topher says.
“No, I don’t need you to. Do you not remember our staff meeting the other week?”
“Staff meeting?” I scrunch up my face. “We don’t have staff meetings.”
“We did. I walked into your office. Said ‘staff meeting’, followed by ‘Make sure your computers are off if you’re out for the day’ then I walked out.”
Topher bursts out laughing. “That was a staff meeting? Boss, you need to take some management classes.”
“That’s beside the point,” Tony bellows through the speakers. “I see you’re heading to Hopetoun, so I gathered you wouldn’t be back before close. Is that right? Are you staying there over the weekend?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “We are heading back tonight, but we won’t make it in the office. Sorry. Can you just shut down the computers for us?”
I hit Topher on the arm and point to the sign. ‘Welcome to Hopetoun’ and fist the air in celebration.
“Yes. Be safe,” Tony says and hangs up.
’Bout time.” Topher crosses his arms.
I follow the road to their main street in the small town. I remember this part when I searched the directions on the computer. We drive around the roundabout surrounding a water fountain in the centre of the road until we come to a stop in front of a colonial brick building framed with a tin veranda. A simple sign reads Book Store displayed on the front.
“This is it.” I turn off the ignition.
As we open the doors, the suffocating heat hits our face, no moisture is in the air. The air-conditioning in the car had not prepared us at all. We had driven for hours from Adelaide, across state lines to Victoria. We had taken the highway inland and for the last few hours the view was of red dirt and dead sparse shrubs. Summer in South Australia was dry and unforgiving, and the temperature in this town was definitely at least forty-five degrees.
“This is ridiculous,” Topher airs out his t-shirt trying to cool down.
“Let’s get inside.” I decide to take off my amulet, stuffing it in my pocket on the walk to the front door. Once I see who is inside, and if it’s manageable, I’ll slip it to Topher and use my new ability. Fingers crossed no one inside is a sicko serial killer.
Cool air washes over me as I open the wooden door. It takes a moment to adjust to the darkness, the windows covered by thick blinds. Only a few energy efficient lightbulbs lighting the bookstore.
I fight off a sneeze as I try to acclimatize to my surroundings, the smell of old books and dust tampering with my allergies.
“What now?” he asks.
“Let’s look around. Franziska said the mark is on the front page of the book. I’m not sure what it’s called, though.” I should have learnt from my previous mistakes jumping into situations without all the information. Oh well, I’ll just wing it again.
He looks around at all the books lining the walls and aisle shelves. “Or we could just ask someone,” he says. “You have a picture on your phone, show that.”
I walk toward an unmanned front counter. A small bell sits in front of a sign that says, ‘Ring for Service’. Following the instructions, I ring the bell.
A tiny man appears from the counter back door. He looks close to eighty. He dawdles towards us, his eyes behind thick black rimmed reading glasses. They double in size. But we’re alone, so out of his sight, I pass Topher my amulet.
“Hello, how are you today?” The old man asks politely.
“Great, thanks. A bit hot out there.” I smile to him.
“Yes, we are in for a heat wave,” he says. “How can I help you?”
“Uh, we are here researching historical bookstores.” I think quickly. “My name is Jessica, and my associate here is Graham. We’re writing a thesis on the changes through history and the decline of old literature and ancient books due to the digital age. Would it be ok if we asked you a few questions for our paper?” And just like that, I’m back to being myself. Able to talk bullshit for days.
“Oh,” the man said. “Well, I guess that would be ok. We don’t get many people visiting the town because of my bookstore. It’s quite refreshing.”
We have even less time to waste, since our little detour on the way. Adding upgrading my car with satellite navigation to the list of things I need. It’s made sense for a while now, investing in a new car. The last time I dished out money on one didn’t end well. But, we’ve never had a sunset deadline before.
I need to make sure I’m on the right track. I put all my energy into concentrating on his thoughts. With only two other people in the room. I zero in on the owner.
I can’t believe they are here for my store. Finally, someone taking an interest in my life’s work.
“Great, thanks,” I say. “It won’t take too long.” I pull out my phone from my bag. “Do you mind if I record our interview?” I find it always helps to go the extra mile in convincing someone of your legitimacy so they can open up more.
“Not at all,” the man says. He walks around from the counter. “There’s a small table at the front. We can sit there.”
We follow the elderly man toward the front of the store as we sit down on the black cast-iron chairs. The conversation flows. He’s excited to talk about his life and his love for books. Gregory Smith, born in 1930, purchased the store when he was twenty-two. He reveals how he travelled through Australia and Europe collecting original pieces. He describes his love of books and the history of how he managed to stay in business for almost fifty years.
Even though we came here purely for information and the book, his story is quite remarkable. This man loves his job, it’s his passion, and it’s commendable the lengths he has gone through to make it happen. I can’t help getting lost in his resilience and life story.
Topher nudges me under the table, bringing me back to reality. The reason we are here.
“So, in our day and age, books have been converted to read online,” I steer the conversation. “Do you have any books here that aren’t available digitally?”
“Oh, yes. There are books in the store that I have personally acquired throughout my travels, first editions, unknown authors, memoirs,” he says.
“We have found some amazing books travelling around bookstores in Australia,” I say. “We’ve seen diaries of settlers and so much more. But what we find very interesting is mystical books. Books that are passed down through generations, that may not have been published for sale. Like grimoires or journals,” I edge closer to what I hope to find or hear.
Oh, I have a book you would love. But it’s too dangerous, and I swore to never talk about it. Oh, but you would love the story.
He has the book, I know it. Gauging his response and reading his body language, I believe he’s the loyal type. If he’s made an oath, I believe he would stick to it. I need to get it out of him, somehow through his thoughts. It feels wrong, intrusive, but I have to do what
needs to be done.
“No. There isn’t anything like that here. We have some mystical books. But no unpublished works,” he says.
I look over at Topher, his eyes screaming waste of time at me.
I know it’s here. As nice as this man is doesn’t change the fact the answer to who I am, could lie in that book. The moral question to what I’m doing, has to take a back seat. There is an underworld out there, and I’m getting sick of being the only one not in the know. Especially when the crazy has become true. I can hear the thoughts of others. It’s time to get the book. I just need him to think of it again.
“We recently came from a bookstore in the Barossa Valley in South Australia. They told me of a tale of a book with no name, that may have found its way here. There was a picture on the front, hang on, I’ll show you.” I pull out my phone and scroll to the picture of the mark and zoom in so he can see it better.
No one should know I have the book. They will come for me if anyone finds out.
I see fear in his eyes, the worry lines deep on his face.
“Here,” I hold out the phone to him.
How? How could she possibly know? Oh, if she knows others might. I have hidden it here for twenty-three years. No trouble, nothing. No, it can’t be. How could she know?
“No, I don’t recognise this picture,” he says and turns his head away.
Crap, come on Gregory, give me more. “Oh, do you mind if we have a look around for it, maybe it’s been forgotten?”
You can look around all you want. You won’t find it on my shelf. It’s in the bottom of my desk drawer. So look around all you want.
Bingo.
“Of course, but I remember everything I have, and I am certain it’s not here,” he says.
“Great, thanks.” I spring up from the chair and yank at Topher’s arm to follow.
Gregory stands and slowly walks towards a trolley at the front of the shop with a stack of books on it, out of earshot.
“Oh my god, I almost fell asleep,” Topher whines. “What a waste of time.”
“It’s here,” I say as I pull him behind a tall shelf.
