Page-Turner

by Nick Rossi

  She had come upon Marina’s by total accident. Cheeky Chip had wanted to find a coffee shop to rest a bit (they were walking little marathoners), while she had wanted to find a good book to read, not surprising at all to Chip. He knew of her severe love of reading, though she had kept the insatiable love of teen fiction somewhat hidden. Because most of their belongings were still packed in boxes, they were still unpacking to start their life in Maher Heights. Her usual easy access to her expansive teen fiction collection was therefore blocked. She typically wasn’t a big proponent of re-reading books, but she couldn’t say no to a good Judy Blume re-hash until her next book purchase was made.

  Lost, and without a map, and feeling like an addict needing a heroin fix, she noticed that Marina’s book store seemed to pop out of nowhere. It was nearly as though it appeared out of the thin, smoggy air. After leaving Chip content at a nearby Starbucks with a latte in his hand and newspaper on the table before him, she opted to see where her fancy took her. She had soon found herself walking down a very quiet and desolated street with the random homeless person curled up on a vent, adding to its urban charm.

  “Ooh – what have we here,” Darcy said aloud to herself, and began to walk excitedly towards the shop that had the name ‘Marina’s’ blazing on a flashing marquee sign that she had only previously seen in old movies and magazines. It was massive, made of heavy iron and chipped red paint, faded but endearing. The name itself was spelled out in bright mustard yellow, silver stars surrounding the M and A. The window display which sat below the flashing sign was so unbelievably expansive with books of every genre being displayed, from Plato to Kellerman to Koontz. The massive teen fiction section in the store’s front window display was what totally caught her eye, and with that view, she flew into the store, not even worrying about leaving Chip on his own at Starbucks. In retrospect, she should have recognized the lack of concern for her then-boyfriend as a sign of their imminent break up, which ironically enough was in a Starbucks.

  She soon noticed a more petite sign advertising a small coffee shop within the store and immediately felt a twinge of guilt. Should she run back to Starbucks and ask Chip to join her, or would she have more fun venturing solo? Ultimately, she entered the store alone, which was how she entered it on every other subsequent visit she made.

  Even though things didn’t work out with Chip, she visited Marina’s every single Friday. It was the highlight of her week. She couldn’t contain the excitement of being able to find some books that certainly fixed her craving, and over time, she felt less and less embarrassed of making a beehive to the Teen Lit section, which was oddly enough always empty but fully stocked, and color coded.

  Over time, she came to know Marina personally, partly because she was in the shop so often (and sometimes, she thought, the only customer) and partly because Marina seemed to be so omnisciently present with every visit she made, which sometimes was more frequent than her usual Friday night drop-in.

  Marina was an exotic woman, which did not even do her justice as an adjective. She had the look of a veritable cross between Joan Crawford and Mata Hari, and took an immediately liking to Darcy. Every Friday, she and Darcy caught up on the week's events and Marina would share with her any new deliveries in the teen fiction unit. There was no particular event which precipitated them actually physically meeting each other, but more of a gradual “Can I help you with something” and “Yes, the teen fiction books please” slow-builder of a relationship.

  Marina never judged or made Darcy feel strange about her penchant for reading books written for a demographic of 13 year olds. She simply accepted it as a personal preference of Darcy’s and for that she was eternally thankful. She was able to shop and peruse the bounty of books that she was often frowned upon for reading without guilt or the necessary need to peak over her shoulder to see what other expressions customers may be throwing her way.

  A gigantic bonus for her was that there never, ever any other patrons in the teen section at Marina’s book store, thus making her feel even more comfortable in the quaint shop. She had found herself spending countless hours and hours there on those Friday nights, drinking cup after cup of Marina’s special tea and throwing herself willingly into the trials and tribulations of self-righteous and confused teenagers who found themselves navigating through high-school and its associated perils. It let her feel both pity for the teens of today and their adult-like problems, but also proud for having survived high school herself the first time around.

  ***

  “Have a great weekend, honey,” Sylvia screamed at her as she boarded her packed bus. “And be safe.” Sylvia was then immediately swallowed up in the throngs of the hundreds of people who were making their nightly voyage to Suburbia. To be polite, Darcy continued to watch the bus until it departed in the unlikely and rare event that Sylvia got a window seat and began to wave animatedly at her.

  As the bus disappeared from her line of sight, she exhaled heavily (out of sheer relief) and quickly turned around to make her ascent to ‘Marina’s’ – her Mecca amongst monotony, and felt a subtle spring in her step as she knew she would be able to get some good reading thrills that evening. She tried to not think too much about how sad this cause of happiness would appear to other people as she walked out of the busy downtown core and into the more solitary, and fairly run down (and her favorite!) part of town.

  Chapter 3

  Opening the front door of Marina’s was always a challenge. It seemed that the hinge was perpetually stuck to the door, forcing her to constantly break a sweat above her brow as she heaved all of her weight against the door to be able to get in the shop. It also certainly didn’t help matters that the door seemed to be something built right out of Roman times where the size alone seemed to be at least 2 stories tall and made of 100% cast iron.

  “Here, let me help you, Ms. Platt,” Griffin said, Marina’s right-hand man. He towered over Darcy and smiled gently. Griffin was intrinsically part of the shop and part of the whole ‘Marina’s’ experience. Endlessly in his sixties, with silver hair and dimples on each cheek, Griffin played all kinds of roles in the shop, from cashier to concierge to stock boy. If she was interested in dating older men, she certainly would have gone for the man. She actually secretly harbored a tiny, tiny crush for this man who was always so kind and gentle to her. However, she sort of thought there was something going on between him and Marina, so she let that cat lie.

  He opened the door with such ease that she felt embarrassed for not having been able to open it herself. She secretly hid the lack of strength in the arsenal of self-identified faults she kept locked in the back of her mind. She stored it neatly beside her fault of always eating dessert before dinner.

  “Thanks, Griffin,” she replied, pushing herself over the threshold into the shop with literal giddiness and excitement. Griffin nodded back, returning to his post as cashier/store manager/book expert extraordinaire above the wooden dais that oversaw the entire shop.

  His perch on the dais was by far the best vantage point in the entire shop. Without even having to turn his head, he was able to take in the entire view of the store, including both floors that were always so well stocked and organized in its selections. Though the second floor was where Marina’s office was situated and off limits to most customers, Darcy sometimes found herself safely hidden in a little crevice up there reading the latest installment of Fear Street or something of the like.

  The shop itself was not gigantic by any means but it certainly felt expansive to her. It was not in the same realm of the big box bookstores that often littered big cities, but it was big to her in many definable ways. It could have probably fit into the lighting section at the local Home Depot but she truly adored its coziness and warmth. The wood paneling and wood floors, the beige walls, the accent carpets and framed reproductions of famous literary works – it all gave her the feeling of a big bear hug.

  It was also extremely well organized, Marina and Griffin both saw to that, and she f
elt she could navigate blindfolded in the shop and still be able to find her cherished teen fiction unit. Once, she had even tried to do just that due to the excessive amounts of caffeine she had consumed and a Harry Potter hangover circa The Half Blood Prince era.

  On that day she discovered the shop, Chip ensconced comfortably at the Starbucks, was a certainly interesting one for her, even more so in retrospect. She had immediately found herself walking slowly around the never-ending shelves and book displays, feeling completely immersed in the energy and timelessness of the shop. Each section had its own bright sign, a miniature version of the one in the front of the store, highlighting the genre and vast inventory of books. She remembered being impressed at the expansive selection of teen authors that ranged from Francine Pascal to R.L. Stine (yes, for her Mr. Stine was a master of teen storytelling, albeit with murder and gruesomeness). She had been reading the back of a book by Christopher Pike that she had never, ever seen in person (eBay had the random copy here and there but to actually physically touch the book sent sensations down her spine), when she caught the scent of lilacs and Greek olives. Confused by the unique fusion of scents, she turned around to see an older woman, equal parts beautiful and contemplative, staring at her blankly.

  Normally, when she caught the random strangers staring at her for whatever reason, she would have her defenses immediately in check, either immediately sporting a heavy frown or returning the stare with a blank-eyed expression - but it was different with this stranger. She felt like she was being studied, and understood, and sort of revered in some strange way. It was a completely strange feeling for her to feel revered because all through her life she struggled simply to be heard.

  “You have not come here before, no?" the woman said, her eyes bright green, similar to the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. She had felt terrible for making that comparison but it was her only real point of reference for that shade of the color green. The stranger had a slight accent, a peculiar blend of Eastern European and Southern Georgian. The woman continued to peer at her, smiling, the red hair atop her head arranged in a tight bun that looked beautifully coiffed.

  “No, I haven’t,” Darcy quietly replied, placing the book back on the shelf, her typical instant reaction when someone spoke to her while she was knee deep in teen fiction. Plead ignorance was her go-to instant-reaction should that situation arise.

  “No, I would have noticed if you had been in before,” the older woman continued, stepping closer. Her long purple and red dress seemed to float atop the wooden floor, wind blowing it from a thousand invisible fans.

  Darcy set the book back firmly amongst its like books, in the right spot she had hoped, and turned towards the woman. She had found the woman’s statement somewhat bizarre because she did not consider herself noticeable in any particular way. She had mousy brown hair, never dyed (a fact she was semi-proud of), was 5’5 and slim (ish). Her weight fluctuated alongside her hair length and she thought her blue eyes were just average. She didn’t exactly turn heads when she entered a room (she was more of an Anne of Green Gables than Katniss Everdeen), but she was pretty just the same, just more in a subtle way.

  “I am Marina. I own this store,” the woman continued, her thick eyebrows frowning once she noticed the book she just put back on the shelf.

  Great, Darcy thought to herself. The store owner just saw me reading the jacket for The Graduation, the final book in Christopher Pike’s legendary Final Friends series. I’m going to die of mortification.

  “That is a great book. Mr. Pike sure knows how to capture the nuances of teen angst,” Marina smiled. The warm expression that spread over the woman’s face had the immediate effect of causing her to instantly relax and feel comfortable.

  For a split second, she had thought she misheard this Marina person entirely. Could this woman possibly know the beauty of Pike’s prose, let alone compliment a book written for zitty teens? , she silently monologued.

  “Come, I will show you more,” Marina went on, gently grabbing onto her raincoat, and proceeded to give Darcy a personal tour of the shop. And just like that, they became bookstore buddies. That first meeting found them chatting for hours about topics ranging from plot points of all of their favorite books to how Marina came to become a store owner. At one point, Griffin brought the two women freshly brewed cups of tea which had the aroma of rose petals and happiness. That first meeting had been like the best date she could have with a new friend.

  She had always gotten along well with older adults. There was a compatibility and ease with those interactions that she found difficult to obtain with peers her own age. Her mother had said repeatedly over the years it was because she had an ‘old soul’ but she surmised that it was because she just didn’t like people her own age.

  Shaking herself from her flashback and mini-reverie of the first time she had met Marina, she took a glance upwards to the ornate stained glass window that overlooked the shop, which cast red, yellow and blue shadows amongst the book displays and wooden chairs that lined the aisles. Smiling to herself out of literal contentment, she continued her way past Thrillers and Political Novels to her favorite section.

  She grabbed a few books from the teen section display and sat in her favorite seat which faced the steep wooden stairwell that lead up to the second floor of the shop where Marina’s office and inventory area were. She happily began to skim the new releases that Marina always placed for her on the bottom shelf, after the letter Z, with her name on it. She settled in comfortably, cell phone turned off and her cozy shawl tied around her neck (a gift from Marina), and began to venture into the worlds of teens who were faced with decisions that she felt she could make in her sleep. This assumption made her feel slightly superior to the characters she voraciously read about who were always finding every plot point so overwhelming. Fortunately for them and unlike real life, there was always a happy ending to be had.

  Chapter 4

  For the second time that day she had dozed off because she awoke to the sounds of hurried whispers and slamming doors around her. It caused her immediate alarm as loud sounds were never, ever made inside the safe confines of Marina’s, much like noise in a library was prohibited. Normally, these were the types of sounds that she heard on a daily basis (her apartment had a great floor plan but paper thin walls) and did not phase her at all, but within the confines of the Mecca of Marina’s, they had the tenacity of police car sirens blaring in the sanctity of a church.

  She swiftly stood up, which she later regretted because she had dozed off with her legs crossed and now her right shin felt like an overused dartboard on Friday night at TGI-Fridays. Holding in her yelps of pain, she covertly attempted to discover where the ruckus was coming from without appearing nosy, not that there was anyone else in the shop (there seldom were – she had often questioned how Marina was able to keep the book shop in business).

  She glanced over at Griffin’s usual perch, where he expectedly stood with his nose buried in a large book that had dust rising from it as he turned the pages slowly. The man seemed entirely unaware of the noises that had awoken her from her apparent reading induced slumber. She slowly sat back down and glanced around the periphery of the store, noticing that the sounds had subsided. She looked at her watch and was shocked that it was close to 10 pm, an hour past the posted closing time hours mounted on the front iron door. She quickly gathered her things, including the four books she intended to buy, and began to walk towards Griffin when she heard the muffled sounds again, this time more discernible in volume.

  “… to stay here!” a man’s voice said, gruff and stern. The voice was deep and strong, immediately making her ill at ease. She turned around expecting to see some overbearing stranger, but she did not see anyone. She peered upwards to the second floor where Marina’s office was located and noticed that Marina’s signature office lamp was brightly lit, causing unusual shadows to creep around slowly the inside of the office.

  “You must make a choice,” the male continued,
his voice lower this time. Perhaps he noticed that screaming wasn’t acceptable inside a bookstore, not to mention at Marina’s.

  Suddenly, there was a loud bang of a door slamming closed, followed by a myriad of inaudible whispers and the distinguishable sound of finger nails scratching a blackboard.

  “The choice will be made,” a woman replied, her voice soft, southern and frightened. There was no mistaking the source of the voice: Darcy knew it was Marina.

  “I cannot let her go on without knowing the truth. She will discover it soon,” Marina continued, her voice almost pleading in its tone. Darcy had never heard that kind of tone come from Marina before, and it further caused her to feel concerned about what was unfolding.

  At that moment, Marina’s large, oak office door opened and closed, however, Darcy did not actually see anyone either enter or exit. She felt a sense of panic, not knowing if her eyes were playing tricks on her post-nap or if she were witnessing some paranormal activity. True, she had just finished watching the Paranormal Activity franchise just the night before, but she liked to believe she had a firm grasp on reality, nap hangover and all.

  Figuring she had had enough creepiness for one evening, she decided to simply turn around and pay for her books with Griffin at the front counter area. Before she managed to shift her direction towards the man who was still reading his book, she caught Marina staring at her just steps away. The look in the woman’s eyes was the exact same one she had had the first day both women had met for the first time all of those years ago. Darcy thought she caught an air of sadness and worry in the woman’s eyes, but the muted lighting in the store in itself was not exactly the best. She quickly shook off the thought.