Life with Sam Fendon

Chapter 2 - In Need of a Book

Chapter 2 - In Need of a Book

It was a Saturday when I woke up. The Friday night before had been pretty shit, but I had discovered that I didn’t hate my worst enemy. I guess in some ways, that meant the night had been eventful.

I was washed and dressed before eight, and out the door at half the hour. I would normally go into the store at the end of my street. But now it was no longer the store at the end of my street that Adam Leverton worked in. So I didn’t bother. I walked past the store though, and saw that the manager was behind the desk again, on the phone. Later I’d find out that that was because he was talking to Adam Leverton’s mother, who was fucked off that her son was at home, and that she had to talk to him. She was another person who didn’t like him very much. Maybe that was why he said thank you?

The book store I worked in was not yet open when I got there. I had to knock on the door a couple times before I was let in. Finn Holden was the one to open the door. He was my managers son, and was exactly two years older than me. We shared the same birthday.

‘Hi, Sam.’ He’d said once he’d opened the door for me.

‘Hi, Finn.’ I’d responded. He’d smiled and then locked the door again. It was always a little awkward with us. I hadn’t wanted it to be. But it was, and I wasn’t sure why at the time. I’d left the front of the shop and gone to the staff room.

Kelly, Harrison and Jenny were all sitting in there, sipping cups of coffee and chatting. They said hi to me when I entered. I was the youngest. Being sixteen and working in a shop where most of the staff were over thirty-five, worked for me. For Adam Leverton, it wouldn’t have worked. As proven the night before when he was fired by a forty-seven year old.

I put my work shirt on before I left the house – what I did saturday, which was why Adam Leverton knew about the book store I worked in. He would have never known otherwise, as he wasn’t one to be seen browsing any kind of shelves. Especially if they contained literature. I liked browsing the shelves in the store, and working there meant that I could do it and get paid. I think pretty much all my co-workers felt the same way.

The little clock we had in the staff room had told us all that it was nine o’clock, and so all coffee cups were abandoned, either empty or half full, and we walked onto the floor. We were the only ones, along with Finn Holden, that were on the floor for the next hour. Not many people went book shopping this early on a Saturday morning in a small town called Gidel.

It was pretty shit, to be honest, working in that shop. I guess the people working there kind of made it a bit more interesting. Harrison Goddard, known to most as Harry - but I’m in the business of calling everyone by their full name, I think it’s more appropriate – was a tall, German man who often scared people off with his stare. It was freaky. He had large, very, very, light blue eyes, so that from a distance, almost all you could see of them was white eye ball and black pupil. I can understand why his section wasn’t our most popular section. I didn’t really enjoy looking at him, and I knew his eyes weren’t entirely white apart from his pupil. The people of Gidel never really got close enough to learn that bit of information.

I however, had learnt the hard way – when standing up from putting a book on a low shelf, I’d been greeted with his incredibly long face not inches from mine. I didn’t cry out, I kind of wanted to. But I’m a sixteen year old boy, and sixteen year old boys don’t jump or get creeped out by a tall German guy with weird eyes.

Then there was Kelly Arnold, who was the opposite of Harrison Goddard, now I’ve said a bit more about him, I can also mention that he dresses almost entirely in tan beige. I imagine his house is decked out in tan beige too, and so with his tan beige clothes, white hair and white eyes, he probably blends right in. But then, I’m sure, that if you liked tan beige that much, you’d probably call it something like Tuscan. I wish I didn’t know that was a variation of beige, but I have a Mom who doesn’t mind sharing her thoughts on different hews.