The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(18)
Dear Alice,
Mr. Perrault was very wise. Passionate readers are rare and we must stick together. (To be clear, I say we’re different than “the bookful blockhead, ignorantly read with loads of learned lumber in his head” that Alexander Pope described.)
The books are all mine. I haven’t met the right person to share shelf space with, I suppose. I agree that it’s a very personal decision and it brings up a conundrum. If you’ve fallen in love with someone and decide to live out your lives in happily wedded bliss, but then realize your books can’t coexist on a shelf, does that spell the end of your relationship? I think I would spring for separate book cases but I fear for those ardent readers with limited space and means. Perhaps the real cause of divorce is lack of shelf space? This needs to be studied at a higher level.
Yes to science fiction. I don’t think I read outside the genre from the ages of ten to twenty-five. It has served me well. And I admit I’m disappointed in your lack of appreciation for Miss Flannery. Have you read any of her letters? Maybe some background into her daily life would help. The Graveyard Book was the first new children’s book I loved as an adult. There have been others since then, but that was the first.
As for that book you spotted, The Seraphim and Other Poems was the first collection she published under her own name but I have other reasons for liking it. Now I have to know how my Elizabeth Barrett Browning is tied to your youthful outrage in Mr. Perrault’s poetry section.
Your friend,
Browning Wordsworth Keats
Paul pushed send, set the laptop on the table and stood. He didn’t mention the gaming manual and he wondered if she would notice. The six wings of the seraph in the logo of ScreenStop came from the title of that book she’d just pointed out. But nobody knew that except for him. Most people thought it was just a cool design, with two large wings crossed at the top, two to the side, and two crossed at the bottom. It made him nervous to dance around such a large clue, but Alice honestly seemed interested in the books, and not in his identity. He didn’t mind letting slip the fact he wasn’t married. She didn’t seem the type to want an online romance. Just the opposite, really. She would be someone who would insist on face-to-face communication.
He watched the mist outside fade away as the jet slowly descended through the clouds. As soon as the jet landed, someone would spot the ScreenStop logo and the news would spread that he’d returned to his home town. He felt his stomach roll with nerves.
It had been a long time since he’d made a new friend. Well, not exactly. He made friends all the time. He had five thousand Facebook friends, ten million Twitter followers, and everywhere he went, people knew his name. But it never got around to books. His whole public life was gaming, the company, and the huge conventions that brought thousands of people together in cosplay. He never dressed up, but he never quite felt like himself, either.
Paul reached for a Coke in the cabin fridge and opened it with a crack. The soda tasted too sweet and he blinked against the burn of carbonation. Andy embraced the geek fandom with open arms, feeling like he had the best of both worlds. For years, Paul worked hard without a break, traveled without a real vacation, and tried to fit into the New York high-tech lifestyle. He’d succeeded beyond anything he could have imagined. But he didn’t feel at home.
He wandered back to his seat on the couch and set down his drink. The laptop screen showed another message. Paul rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. Would she insist on asking about the video game programming book?
Clicking it open, he only saw a few sentences, and a .jpg attachment. She’d sent him a picture. Of herself? Of her store?
Dear BWK (that’s how I think of you),
I’m conflicted on the subject of Mr. Pope. I agree with him when he says “an honest man’s the noblest work of God,” but then my hackles rise when I see that too-oft quoted “woman’s at best a contradiction still.” I’m not sure whether he had a sly sense of humor or if he really didn’t like women much.
Also, I feel like I’ve been very rude. I’m sending this picture as a literary olive branch.
Your friend, Alice
P.S. I’ll tell my story when you explain the gaming manual. I really am curious. It’s not something I think is useful, good, or worthy. It’s like seeing a bomb on your shelf, with the timer set and running.
Paul let out a bark of laughter. A bomb? His software manual was a weapon of mass destruction, set to take out everything around it?
Andy looked up, an expression of total surprise on his face. “What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “Sorry. I just got a shock. Wasn’t expecting…”
Andy stretched and let out a wide yawn. “People are weird. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
“I guess. Someone just compared designing games to building bombs.” Paul paused. “I’m pretty sure that’s what she meant.”
“Who are you talking to?” Andy shot him a look. “I thought you were going to scan in a new book while we were hanging out up here in the sky.” His brows went up. “Wait. Did you meet someone new and I’m the last to know? Was she on one of those dating sites?”
“No, but thanks for implying I need one.” He read the line again. Yup, she had definitely just called him a bomb-maker. “She’s a reader from the classic book site. Well, a bookstore owner, actually.”