a royal Reaux side street mystery

Faun arrived on foot before the sun and found her way to the cash office without having to flip any lights. She focused on the neat list in her head of all the tasks of the day…. but what about King Leopold? 

It had not crossed Faun’s mind once to believe the king could be anywhere but with Grant 

and since Grant was nowhere to be found, it seemed a moot topic until she found Sheila’s handwritten yellow post-it note laying stuck to—right on top of the shop’s electric bill: “almost forgot to tell you—Guy called saying he is dropping off King Leopold”

which threw a wrench in her plot to stay focused on her to-do list and not get distracted 

Nevermind the donation boxes of books cluttering up the path to the public bathrooms that needed to be inventoried and shelved or tossed, not a safety hazard but —by early mid- morning even this was to be evaded by a surprise policeman visit 

Sullivan and Pierre Reaux both arriving through the shop’s front doors and one glaring her down as Faun dealt with a line of people whose only literary interest was reading the price out of their expected lattes

Out of nowhere, Sheila arrived too, appearing from the stacks and saying,

“I’ll take care of the line, why don’t you take Mr and Mrs Smith over there?”

“You have great timing,” Faun looked up and without argument stepped away from the counter and headed out to the floor over to the ‘Smiths’

“Can I help you with something?” Faun glanced first at officer Sullivan and then at the French Canadian 

“Perhapz ve can ‘av a word in a more private eh—rroom, nes pas?”

Faun glanced at Sheila who waved with a wink and then looked over at Sullivan whose eyes looked serious 

“Great,” Faun said

An alley way called Dawn off the side street

She felt differently she realized, staring out over the street in front of her, watching the coats of snow melt under the pummel of the constant rain which replaced the days of snow storms 

She had felt differently for awhile.

The tone of life had cast a new altered scheme of shades ….and it was so gradual, this change …. it was not possible to pin point any exact moment of the shift 

but there was a shift …. 

Faun looked down at her chapped hands— now softened ….but they still slightly stung, if she noticed ….

why had she come here….? and why had Grant been able to distract her from ….distract her from what is reality. But the change began when it was still present 

   and the events —a few shocking deaths between other

events …. smeared what remained of the dreams 

What world did those dreams belong in?

Sheila had no other message from Grant— so, it seems ….he forgot her, and now having shut up this part of the house Faun turned away from the window. She kept her eyes away from the salmon colored couches and focused on the door through which would close out these recent memories ….

and once through that door….Shut….with a click….she leaned against it and stared ahead at the interior of her little kitchen ….her bald reality glared back as she wondered how it was possible that he had achieved this ability to distract her from reality —that reality ….

And now with everything back in order at the shop and the bills sorted out and replied to whatever it was that Pierre Reaux needed (copies of the mud print photos) now done 

Faun faced the empty place ignoring the mockery of cheap fixes that existed for dates and fake friends —how did he distract her from that? she slid down the door and sat on the floor ….not a flashy red carpet promise, it was just—the ease that existed when he was around; a calm in which to think and breathe— was it illusion ….?something she had conjured up and blindly had believed in—her fault—so….it should be easy to conjure again, right? for herself ….

Faun reminded herself that he would have to contact her eventually about the book shop 

wouldn’t he? 

It suddenly occurred to her why Grant was able to distract her from the brutalities of life 

No back street boy Side street mystery

It was Sheila that had kept the bookshop running when Faun was away and had volunteered to pick Faun up at the airport upon her return, whereupon using the opportunity to fill Faun in on all the latest gossip,

“Ohhh! Lenny and Lonnie broke up; newsflash,” was one of the first things that had come out of her mouth before Faun had fastened the seatbelt 

Even so….

“Wow, that’s a shocker, even for an outsider like me,” Faun was saying as Sheila pulled onto the road, the full mountain range, the now familiar backdrop, lending the moment a kind of nostalgic scene within Faun's poetic dreamy mind 

….watching those quaint and quiet familiar little road roll by with their sleepy mystery at this late hour after twelve midnight 

Faun thought about this now as she sat in the shop’s office…. weeks of figures to correct (Sheila wasn’t great with business numbers) and a head ache of deposits to go through with the bank (as money was not really Sheila’s forte either), but the shop was clean; it hadn’t burnt down; the customers were happy; the sales very good so…. 

how could Faun complain ? And it kept her busy from thinking too much about …. life 

Life …. as reminders of its ephemeral gift/lesson is only given on loan and seeing everyone again …. made her realize how time is going by— everyone looked so ….old

and she found herself often in a corner terrified with the clear reality of this…..

all holiday fun included on her overwhelming trip she had returned from but ….also …. the lack of any presence of Grant 

And as Sheila had driven Faun home from the airport, hardly taking a breath about everything Faun had missed about everyone in the neighborhood …. Faun waited 

she waited for any mention about Grant

They were all the way on the road they lived on and Faun had looked up, automatically ….to his window ….as Sheila drove past the entrance before pulling into the driveway, next to Faun’s yellow Volvo. She had noticed though ….his light was not on and the window was completely dark. 

Faun hesitated and took a moment as she reached to open the passenger side door, clearing her throat and looked over at Sheila as she also opened her door to get out

“Uh—any messages?” Faun hesitated to ask but then vaulted herself out of the seat, not wanting to appear desperate 

With her backpack and carryon, Faun had stood outside as she slammed it shut, noticing that Sheila looked at her blankly. Sheila followed her to the door

“Oh wait! That’s right!” Sheila said as Faun turned the door nib to go in—but Sheila cut in front of her, “his message! I’m supposed to check your place before I let you in when I drop you off—you meant English guy—I never remember his name, if I think of Depeche Mode, it comes to me; Grant—“

It was too cold to ask as Sheila ran in to turn lights on and check all the rooms. Faun had waited outside shivering 

When the coast was clear, Faun had to wait for her teeth to stop chattering to speak and when she finally could say something, she said,

“I don’t get the connection but—was that the only message he left?”

“You know,” Sheila had rolled her eyes, “British guy, British band—S and M —Grant ….lets play master and servant —and he looks the type,” was all she could then elaborate upon 

Cards on the table —left

She found it strange to return to the town after the holidays 

finding Christmas —cards on the table as she’d left them there before dashing off for the airport …. the reengaging was something she’d dreaded ….

like returning arriving after the party’s over

the lights all still up…. in town; winter with its whisper, frozen and all aglow; lit up huge silver bells flanking one door and glowing rather more gold in the early evening light. Where was the snow this year? you would think the mountains would be thick in white by now ….

Faun sat in her car for awhile lost.in.thought.lost

she stared at something but didn’t see as she thought about where she’d been …. she had feared returning to this quaint little town after…. after. . . . 

she closed her eyes and put her face into the car steering wheel. she concentrated on the sound of her own breathing. she reminded herself …. how to 

then sat straight up …. they have no idea …. here ….it is easy to jump through worlds once it’s become second nature…. she felt her put her arms through herself like a sweater and merge again more whole ….and Grant ….?

For awhile she just breathed as she thought about him 

she had spent the holidays with people she’d not seen for years—Faun’s checkered past? checked, yes the rest is anyone’s interpretation she often thought

     ….Grant 

they had left things so oddly 

another celf

 

Tango for ‘tea’ down the wrong side a side street

In the end, Faun did wind up in Grant’s….

 it’s best not to get ahead of things, certainly, but, with the amount of chaos two teenaged girls can create and having to unknot the damage —an overcharge that was fixed with a refund for six thousand dollars; a complaint from someone in Berlin Germany for a phone call about a book they didn’t order that woke them in the middle of the night (Jennifer was still not getting the dialing sequence must be cleared by hanging up the receiver, not by pushing the red light) —and a few confusing issues they seemed to be having with ….money—as in the physical kind. So, their total disregard for safe keeping the cash went right over their heads. Several times Faun had found the cash register drawer left open so….

By the time the mothers —Paula and Pamela of Jessica and Jennifer (respectively) came to collect the girls (Jessica at 6:03, Jennifer at 6:07) 

when Grant found Faun in the cash office counting down the drawer—and having problems making it balance with the estimated cash deposite ….

he found her looking disheveled with the frustration of the task in front of her; her glasses askew on her face and her hair standing up in places where it looked like she had pulled at it in a kind of frustrated fit, juxtaposing the teal colored tweed skirt and matching suit jacket otherwise smart ensemble, contrasted by a cream colored satin blouse that had a long ribboned tie and pearl buttons. 

Her little ballet pumps with the big buttons, he noticed, were kicked off by feet, outlined in opaque black tights 

“You look like you could use a drink,” Grant said as he, after the fact, tapped lightly in the door as if meant as a knock 

Faun looked up,

“Oh do you have one?” as she looked hopefully for this possibility 

Grant laughed,

“I know where Arthur hid his sherry but I was thinking more along the lines of going somewhere—would you eat fish? There’s a place I read about….”

Faun stared at him for a moment. She was still adding and subtracting in her mind. 

And wasn’t there something she was supposed to …. make him suffer for …. a little longer?

“Ummm—but—oh! My wall!” as it hit her just then what it was she had meant to be asking about 

Grant went over to the desk where she was, took all the cash and put it in an envelope—

“No wait—that’s not the deposit—that has the base fund; I can’t make it balance—“ she was saying as he was still removing the cash from her fingers

“You need to get out of here, I think,” he said this as he placed the cash and the till into the antique safe and quickly shut it.

He turned and looked for her coat, recognizing the dark green adirondak coat,

“Let’s go,” he said slipping a hand under each of her arm pits, and while holding her coat, pulled her up from the chair, “the deposit can wait—I’ll clear it with the boss, so, don’t worry.”

The sea food place Grant had read about seemed to be very good; it had a waiting cue. But Grant insisted they wait and order drinks. Faun would be willing to swear it was a margarita. At least the first one was. And she would be willing to swear the seafood was probably amazing.

What were they talking about?

The Bishops….the shop….his childhood, where he grew up….he made her laugh at things he talked about….

It was just a bit hazy. Except for his eyes—as she could not look at anything else as they sat at the table….and what he said….everything he said….and for the first time in forever, she forgot to be self conscious and relaxed next to him

There was that moment after the paying of the check when Grant was helping her on with her coat

“Oh no….” Grant suddenly had said as they headed out towards the door to go and now —watching how often Faun paused to study the textures of the wallpaper 

“Hmmm….?” she was, at that point running her fingers over the velvety texture as she walked and humming to herself 

“You can’t drive,” he said 

His meaning wasn’t clear until they were outside.

“It’s so hazy out,” but she was squinting and then dropped the car keys in the little snow drift by the car door. “Shit.” And fell down on top of the drift. 

It was when she decided she felt comfortable there that when Grant leaned over her and said,

“give me the keys,” the other thing he said finally made sense 

After that 

It was awhile in the car. How long was she staring at the glove compartment? And still in the restaurant’s parking lot.

Finally she thought to look at Grant. He seemed to be having a personal conversation with himself. The tequila was making it harder for her to grasp most of it—or was it the translation? 

“Key…”he said under his breath and looked from the key to the areas of the antiquated steering wheel and dashboard. He tapped the spot when he located it with the key—but was not in a hurry to insert it. He let out a breath. “Right side….” he said aloud. Then looked at the key again. Another deep breath. “Two lanes —yellow lines….how do you turn right?”

“It’s two left turns,” Faun suddenly said

“Sorry?”

“Going back,” she clarified, “I mean from here.”

“Oh….that’s even better….”

But Faun did not remember the journey back.   

There was a moment she heard that terrifying sound of car horns being blown as they drove by some cars and someone yelled something that sounded like,

“pick a fucking lane—your other left asshole!!”

but it made sense with her dream somehow—so,

 it wasn’t until she was dumped actually into his bed       —quite similar as she had been the last time, as a matter of fact