The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(14)
Here he was again, the mysterious BWK. Now he was actually bringing people into her store, bless him. Alice said, “I think that’s the name of the man who’s posting the book, not the author.”
She frowned. “Right. I knew that, I think.”
“Can I see the book?” Alice held out her hand, and the dark-eyed girl passed her the e-reader. The cover was bright and clear like a photograph, but before she could take it all in, Alice accidentally touched the screen and it was gone, replaced by a line of books. “I’m sorry. I think I did something and lost the page.”
The girl took it back with a smile. “You’ve never used one of these before? But, I guess you wouldn’t need one. You have a whole bookstore.”
“Exactly,” Alice said, nodding.
“My grandpapa just got a tablet for his birthday and we set it up to handle e-books. He didn’t think he’d like it, but his eyesight has gotten so bad that he pretty much gave up reading. Even the large print wasn’t enough. He’d tried books on tape and hated them. He said they all read so slowly.”
“I would think reading on a screen is harder, not easier,” Alice said.
“Oh, no.” The girl touched a few buttons and the font on the page enlarged. “He’s read more books in the last week than he’s read in the last three years. He’s so happy.”
Alice stared down at the page. Bix’s face popped into her mind. He’d just mentioned how much he missed reading. “I didn’t know that they could do that,” she said.
“Sure can,” the girl said. She tapped it a few times and turned it back to Alice. “Here it is.”
“Beau Geste, by P.C. Wren.” Alice tried not to look surprised. “We have quite a few of his stories, including the sequels, Beau Sabreur and Beau Ideal. They made several movies out of this one. I think Gary Cooper played in one version.” She motioned her toward the far aisle. “Let me show you.”
As the woman followed her down the row, Alice had a sudden thought. “Have you ever been to the website run by Browning Wordsworth Keats?”
“Sure, but my friend May is on it a lot more. She loves old books. Her house is packed with them. Not just the romances, but everything, like this one called Tom the Telephone Boy, about a kid who runs the switchboard in his town.” She laughed. “May keeps telling me to read it, but I don’t think I’d understand half of it. Everything is so outdated.”
Alice nodded, even though Karen couldn’t see her face. “Even some of the kids’ books from the sixties are sort of lost in translation.” She motioned to another aisle. “We have the reissued Encyclopedia Brown books and I loved those when I was little. But I had a lady come in, asking to return them. Her grandson said a lot of the mysteries didn’t make sense anymore. With cell phones, people can be reached night and day. Plus, you can Google anything and there’s no reason to have a boy detective at all.”
Karen paused at the end of the aisle, reaching out to touch a book. “I know what she means. I was a French major and liked the title of Beau Geste, so I clicked on it, but the first chapter or so was a real struggle. It wasn’t just the language, it was…” She stopped. “When they’re puzzling out a murder and talking about breech-loading rifles and bayonets, I could understand that. But it was when I realized the whole book was wrapped around this idea of always doing what is right, even to the point of sacrificing yourself for your family honor, I thought it just wasn’t the kind of book I wanted right then. Not exactly light reading.” She turned, smiling. “But I didn’t stop reading it. And now I’m looking for all the others.”
Alice felt her smile widen in response. “If someone told you it was a book about three brothers joining the Foreign Legion, fighting terrible battles, and the main character dies in the end…”
“No way I’d ever read it,” Karen laughed. “But I’d already picked up Tess of the D’urbervilles after I watched the movie, so I was looking on the list for something else and…” She shrugged. “It wasn’t anything like Tess, but I’m glad I read it.”
“Let’s find those sequels, then.” Alice started down the aisle and stopped near the end, pointing to the middle shelf. “You’ll find all of Wren’s work here, and some similar books. I’ll let you browse for a bit.”
“Thank you,” Karen said, already scanning the titles.
Alice walked slowly back to her desk. Her mind had been caught up in the lawyer’s letter and for a moment it was hard for her to see how one new customer could make a difference, but now she felt optimism rise in her. She wasn’t one to fan-girl over anyone, except an author, but she just might make an exception for the mysterious BWK.
She opened her laptop, and in a few clicks she was back on his site. There were a hundred and fifty more comments on the thread she’d been reading a few days before, and another forty people had joined the group dedicated to Gothic romances. She clicked onto the About Me page and stared at his profile. She leaned closer, noting the way his hand casually reached to straighten his loose tie. It was a nice hand, with strong fingers and manicured nails. The slight beard stubble, his tan skin, and the way the collar of his shirt was perfectly pressed, made her think of an Italian mobster. But he was probably trying to channel someone cooler, like Hugh Jackman in that really long movie about Australia.