Dangerous Dementions, Virginia Lang [online e reader txt] 📗

light denim jeans. I didn’t pay attention to his footwear today. He clicked his tongue as he spoke again, bringing my attention back to his face. “I am in two of your classes and you still have yet to notice me. I don’t know if I should feel offended or concerned.”

My cheeks burned slightly and I readjusted my bag on my shoulder and decided to tuck the cereal away for another time. I wouldn’t be eating it soon it seemed. “Sorry.” I glanced at him apologetically. I was so lost in thought most of the day. I hadn’t noticed anyone or anything if I didn’t have to. “I’ve been a bit overwhelmed with everything going on…” I trailed off, not really wanting to give excuses even though it wasn’t a complete lie. It was in fact one of the reasons I’d been so spacey today.

His lips turned up into that friendly smile I remembered from the bookstore. I forced a smile in return, hoping Connor didn’t find my attention too drawn out. My eyes had seemingly found their way back to the group by the dead tree. Once again, my expression turned to dismay. Connor’s eyes seemed to follow my gaze. He drew out a short breath, sardonic to say the least. “You know them?” I held nothing back from my tone of voice. I was curious. Far more for my own good Gran would say.

“Everyone knows them. And if you’re smart you won’t get involved with them.” Connor’s tone changed. I couldn’t quite register it though. When my eyes moved over the boy from the office, I felt an odd sensation as he blazed a sudden surge of reds and the poor tree seemed to willow away even more as I watched them messing around on the planter. “That’s Rex Pharr. He’s not a force to be reckoned with, Charlie.” His tone turned suddenly serious. I turned my gaze away from the now cold stare Rex Pharr was shooting towards me and replaced my eyes on Connor. His face matched his voice, serious, the smile that he so easily wore was now inexistent, and his eyes hard. A wave of nausea came over me and I cringed slightly as a brush of cold, emptiness passed around us. Connor seemed to tense a bit and I barely glanced up to see Rex and the others backs descending from our site into the building. God, what is going on?

“Charlie?” Connor’s hand grazed over my shoulder and I immediately stepped back, standing straight up. He retracted his hand reluctantly and stayed where he stood, caution was staining his features. I feel bad. Everyone has been dealing with my odd mood swings and yep, I believe now Mark and Connor think I am a complete mental case. Hell! The poor secretary Gwen was nice enough not to give me the look Mark and Connor gave me in my now strange swings.

I rubbed a hand over my eyes and readjusted my bag once more. The bell had already buzzed, though I did not hear it. For the courtyard was practically empty now and I sighed a bit. Great, so now my life was going to turn into the twilight zone, or worse, that stupid religious movie ‘Left Behind’. I remember the books. Connor apparently had been speaking because when I glazed at him, his lips were moving. Dammit! Why couldn’t I just pay attention? I might as well have ‘Hey! Abduct me aliens!’ on my back for I could be sucked up by my brain into space and shuttled off and I probably wouldn’t notice for a while. UGH! Charlie focus!

“…So if you want you can come by the shop and I am sure my mother will give you a job off the bat. Or hustle you off towards her many prized collection of books.” He finished. I stared at him as if pretending I had been paying attention this whole time, however I hadn’t been and I am pretty freaking sure he noticed. He smiled a bit and chuckled, shaking his head at me. I frowned a bit. “Okay, I can see I should make this easier for you to catch up.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself when he raised a hand to stop my intended reply and I pursed my lips together. How rude! “Would you like a part-time job while you are here?” He raised his brows a bit in anticipation. He obviously thought it a good idea. “At the café?

My mouth moved before I could. I found nothing wrong with a part-time job whilst here in Portland. I had one back home at a bookstore so I was good with a cash register and receipt book. I loved books so that was a plus. I gave him a smile, my mood changing immediately. “Of course, yeah. I would love to come check it out.”

“Good, then after last period. I’ll meet you out front.” I didn’t get a chance to reply. He was already descending into the school building, leaving me standing in the courtyard. Alone. Well, might as well make an effort here…

+++

The last few classes of the day seemed to drag on and I had to force myself to pay attention during English AP for there was an essay on Shakespeare which we were reading, Hamlet or something. I really should have been paying more attention. I was standing outside the school now. I dialed Mark’s number in the office after the bell rang to let him know I was going to the café with Connor, for I had yet to charge my cell since I’d arrived. It was still in the front pocket of my suitcase. It wasn’t very long that I stood in the front of the school for Connor found me quickly and we headed down the block towards the café. It wasn’t a very long walk since the school was close by his parent’s coffee shop. It was a rather fine looking building on the west side of the city, and it wasn’t just any coffee shop. As soon as I walked in I was breathless. It was filled with books. I loved books. I wanted to own my own bookstore filled with my collection of favorite authors and titles someday. Books were an escape into a world not your own. A life not your own, a chance to look through someone else’s eyes and live through another.

I found myself admiring the covers of the books to the left of the shop near the counter. It was a very strong collection of titles. Ancient bound covers and new age paper and hardbacks. My fingers grazed over them with yearning.

“Are these all the books your parents have read?” There was no way of hiding my enthusiasm and excitement. It caused Connor to laugh, not hiding the smile that was now plastered to his face.

His eyes were bright as he gazed at me. “Actually most of these books are collections past down through our generations. Some are from my parents, others from my grandparents, great ancestors and myself.”

Wow. Ancestors. Most of these books must have been over a hundred or even a thousand years old. Some, on the very top shelf away from the others looked so frail. If someone were to even touch them they would most likely collapse into a heap of dust. Never to be read again. It was exciting. We gained an audience as a woman came into the front from the back of the café, helping a customer who’d just stepped up to the counter. She was a fairly thin woman, in her thirties perhaps, but not model thin. She looked healthy. Long wavy black hair falling around her shoulders, framing her bright featured face. She wore English slacks, a deep brown, with a snazzy black button-up top. There was a very humble appearance to her and I turned my gaze to Connor who smiled a bit at the woman and then turned the smile towards me. I returned it naturally. “Is that your mother?”

“Yes, Serene O’Connor. She’s a very eccentric character.” Connor looked back at his mother who was now finished up with the customer, who was now picking through the books carelessly I might add. Books should be handled with more care, what was that man doing! You don’t just toss a book down like that on a table you should set it down with grace and…

“Hello! You must be Charlie, Connor told me you were coming.” Mrs. O’Connor came around the counter as some point, I don’t know when but she was no standing in front of Connor and I with an expectant and friendly expression. Her English accent was light and her words lucid. I smiled nervously, now having to force it out for I felt like once again, I missed something. “Oh um, yes.”

“Brilliant, I also hear you have been recruited by my son to help out here in the shop!” She said brightly. Wow, this woman was vibrant. Much like my father. Not many flamboyant people in the world but apparently I found yet a second one in my life. I nodded slightly as she now led me around the café, explaining things to me and greeting customers and such. By the time she was done I was sitting behind the counter, watching the people on the sidewalks outside passing by and some looking in briefly before walking on. I’d come to find out that Connors parents were explorers, adventurists who loved to travel and collect the ancient bindings around the world. Adding them to the family collection passed down through generations. She found it rather exciting to live such a life. If only I could…

Time passed rather quickly for my taste and I soon found myself lingering among the many books. They were fairly interesting. For I had not particularly read much since I’d arrived. Angels & Demons was still lying amongst the full bed in the guest room I was staying in; well, so much for non-changeable habits.

I found a few books among the many bindings and decided to make a small list of things to read during the days I would work here. I cannot remember all of the titles now, but I did remember sitting down behind the counter a few nights later with one of the eldest books of the collection. It was an ancient binding in which I found to be delicate but extraordinary at the same time. By the time it hit five-o’clock it was already dark in the skies and I was practically alone in the shop. A few customers were coming and going and one of the regulars, Scotty -who was one of the Westside of Portland’s best mechanics- ordered and sat by the window for about twenty minutes reading the newspaper before getting up and heading out.

I dare say that I watched the night grow darker outside my head every night for the next week. Even now I felt as if I was barely watching the world go on around me, for my own eyes were formidably glued to the binding in front of me. Service was truly slow tonight and it was a Thursday. I hadn’t started my shift long before the last customer had come and gone and I was very seriously glued to the pages within the binding. It was ancient, almost archaic lexis lined the cover. But the magic poetic voice to the pages I read was what caught me.

‘With wings like and angel would you fly over the sea, or travel in silence over a warm summer breeze? With wings like a demon would