NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction. Click on Archives on the right.
The text from bel Vionnet says, “The ‘Bookery’, 12:30.”
Bel is there ahead of time, talking to Boyd Nightingale, sitting behind the pay station. Books are displayed in stacks on a table in front of him, but the ‘Pop-Up’ store’s one bare-bricked room has no shelves of books to browse.
“Well, hi Boyd.”
“Hi there, Fred, want to buy a few books?”
“Maybe, saw the ad in Sunday’s paper. Just want to see what you have.”
Boyd gets up and walks around the table in front of him, to bel’s side.
“We have a lot of stuff reviewed in Sunday’s New York Times and the Post, right here.”
Bel picks up a small book.
“I see you have, Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s new book, Little Boy.”
“Right, he was 100 in March. Augie gave me a copy. Says it is kind of, ‘sixties’ but still relevant.”
“Yes, ‘relevant’, that is kind of ‘sixties’, too.”
Bel opens the book to a random page and reads;
‘…keep you awake in the general slaughter of life as she is lived today when it is dawn and the world goes forth to murder dreams…’ There he is, on page 125!”
“It is like one huge run-on sentence.”
“I suppose he means aspirations and fond wishes, rather than nightmares and anxiety dreams.”
“‘slaughter of life,’ I get that. It, kind of flows poetic.”
“Okay, I’ll take this one.”
Bel makes the purchase through her phone.
“You want a paper receipt, bel?”
“No more paper please.”
“How about a bag?”
“No plastic please.”
“Check the terminals over there, Fred.”
He points to one of the five flat-screen displays in kiosks around the walls.
The screen responds when I touch the representation of a heavy leather-bound volume marked, ‘start’. Now, it shows a list of topics such as New Fiction, Gardening, Self-Help, etc. Volumes of the current best sellers are pictured in a crawl, across the top. A touch on any one of them animates the picture. Tumbling from the top, it fills the bottom two-thirds of the screen, open to the title page, with a message offering ninety seconds to browse.
A few seconds later, the option appears to buy the book as a download or paper. Then comes an invitation to, “The Virtual Book Experience.”
“What is this, Boyd?”
He comes to look over my shoulder.
“Oh that, that isn’t set up yet. It is pretty cool. I tried it at the P.U. lab. You put on a kind of helmet and gloves and get to read and handle the virtual book.”
“Who needs a virtual book?”
“I don’t know. I don’t read books, but you can meet the author. If you introduce yourself, he will greet you by name. You can also listen to an interview. They are having trouble with the gloves. Supposed to give you the tactile experience of handling the paper and all that.”
“What about the smell of paper?”
“No, that’s still not even in the plans.”
“When is it coming?”
“The smell part?”
“No, the experience.”
“Try in a couple of weeks. For now, these displays are all we have.”
“Yes, they are fine, but one might as well be on a home computer.”
“Yeah, pretty much, but most of us don’t have displays this big, and you probably won’t run into friends.”
Bel is standing next to Boyd, looking on.
“Boyd, I heard you were selling artist’s colors over at Tenniel’s”
“Yeah, it didn’t work out.”
“Sorry to hear that. Why did you leave? Seemed like the right job for you, with your interest in art.”
“Messed up family, you know.”
“You mean Tenniel’s?”
“No, No, mine, Mom, Dad, Theo, and now Augie. Too many guys
orbiting the same woman.”
“I didn’t know Harper was back.”
“Yeah, he came by Tenniel’s and all. He said he’s going to teach at Prestige U. for a year.”
“So, is that why you quit?”
“No, I got fired.”
Ring tones sound near the pay station.
“Excuse me, I have to get calls by the second tone.”
He faces the wall. His quiet speech absorbed by his jacket hanging from a nail in the exposed mortar, old and porous. He turns back to bel after a minute or two.
“Sorry bel. Guess who that was?”
“Your Mom?”
“No, it was Theo. He wants to take me to lunch.”
“How about that!”
“He suggested a walk along the river. I said no. Then dinner, I said no. So, we settled on lunch.”
“Sounds like you don’t want to see him!”
“I don’t know, maybe, maybe not.”
“Well, it is lunch time now.”
“Right, Mom’s going to melt down again when she hears this. I mean she’ll be a pool of goo and tears. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!”
“Boyd, I am sorry about all this.”
Boyd resumes his seat behind the pay station.
“Yeah, my soap-opera life.”
“You know, the soaps are dying out.”
“That’s what, Diddlie told Mom. Mom is not a fan but Diddlie soaks up suds.”
“Do you get a lunch period?”
“No, my shift is over at one o’clock.”
He picks up his phone.
“It is what, twelve forty-seven now? So, no problem!”
“No, no problem, but a complicated situation.”
He pockets the phone and pulls out a set of keys from a drawer under the pay station.
“Isn’t it just, bel! ‘The American dream, you have to be asleep to believe it.’”
“Sweetheart, how are you doing, I mean really?”
“I am here, aren’t I?”
“That’s saying something.”
“Damn right it is. It’s a miracle!”
“Boyd, why did you get fired honey?”
“I went out to lunch with Dad and didn’t get back until 4, or something.”
“Good grief, Boyd, no wonder you got fired.”
“Yeah, right. It doesn’t matter though. Dad told me to quit anyway and move in with him.”
“So, you wanted to move on?”
“Yeah, well, in a way, sure. Augie is okay. He got me into counseling. That’s been awesome. But, you know, Mom and him together, are way too much.”
“Well, Lark is kind of hyperactive.”
“They both are! One minute they are yelling in the living room and the next they are stripping off to do it on the couch.”
“In front of you?”
“I was walking through, you know.”
Bell browses among the best sellers and new editions on the table.
“How did you find this job?”
“Dad’s friend owns this thing.”
“Good way to get in!”
“Sure, he knows all kinds of people. He also gave me a few bucks and I get to use his car.”
“Sounds like you landed on your feet!”
“For now, at least. Mom says he is just buying me out from under her. She got so wound up, Augie took her out. That’s when I packed and bailed.”
“So, how is it, between you now?”
“She yelled into the phone last time. She was really sweet before that. I swear, she gets wound up about politics anyway, then starts mooning around the house, and now, Theo has been calling too. That really sets her off, you know, it is like, crises, meltdown, fireworks.”
“Oh, how is Theo, these days?”
“Stumbling around, as usual. Well, he is around, like Dad. You know, I mean orbiting!”
“Your life has taken another interesting turn.”
“Yeah, upside down, inside out and lost and found and lost again. The counselor said I was behaving like an adolescent.”
“Was that helpful?”
“It was crushing!”
“He is something of a provocateur!”
“She was a real bitch! Well, no, I have a new one now, a man, sorry bel.”
“You are putting up with a lot.”
“Augie says it is all part of the process. He said he would throw me out if I quit.”
“And you chose to leave!”
“No, Mom, tore into him. Then threw an orange at him and it hit me. He had to back off.”
Boyd is texting. Now he looks up.
Sorry, I have to stop talking about all this.”
“Yes, you have a job to do.”
“So, I get mad, then get over it, then, well, I don’t know. ‘Why be normal when you can be happy?’ Anyway, there have only been three customers all morning.”
“It gives us a chance to catch up.”
“First, I split with Albrecht.”
“Oh, I remember, he was upset, to say the least.”
“Bel, you are the neighborhood shoulder. I swear, everyone cries on it and talks to you.
You know, I split to the beach with Maria and she found a beach-hunk there, so that was a bummer. I could do without so much interest!”
Boyd stands.
“Hi, welcome to the ‘Bookery!’”
Boyd greets a young woman in tights and a baggy navy-blue sweatshirt with the Prestige U. logo fading across the front. She takes off her purple-tinted sunglasses and looks over at him while folding the white frames. Turns her back and sits in front of the screen nearest the door.
“Where’s the experience?”
Boyd walks over to her.
“Sorry, it isn’t set up yet.”
“Your ad says it is. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, there’s a glitch, so we put these displays in the booths until it is fixed.”
“This is really messed up!”
She gets up. Pushes past Boyd and walks out. Someone outside catches the door before it closes.
“Don’t waste your time. They can’t get it up.”
“I know, I work here.”
“Oh God! You need to get a life!”
Heidi Guderian, steps through the door, her phone in hand.
“Heidi, you are right on time!”
“Hi Boyd, my boyfriend dropped me off.”
“Thanks for the text!”
Her white jeans barely rise above her hips. Her tee-shirt covers her like an unblemished, knitted lavender skin, leaving a seductive gap above her jeans. The lavender seam rises and falls over her winking navel like an eyelid.
“Nothing much happening. Here are the keys.”
“How many obnoxious PU creeps did you get?”
“Ah, that’s the only one.”
“God, I hate that place, bunch of stuck-up-know-it-all-assholes!”
“Yeah, ah, Heidi, I have to get going. Should be quiet. See you.”
She takes the keys and sits behind the pay station. Boyd walks out and we both follow behind him along the waterfront, where people are feeding the herring gulls. Theo walks across the Wharf-side deck towards Boyd, as we catch him up. Theo sweats in his open overcoat, right hand in the pocket, pulling it down to that side.
“Hiya!”
Boyd steps back while bel smiles.
“Theo, haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“Yeah, I have been on a lot of travel.”
She gestures.
“Do you know Fred?”
“Oh of course! Hi Fred.”
“Boyd, how are you doing, guy?”
“Looking at you, man.”
