for me. But no. He still wanted me. He didn’t want me because he loved me; he wanted me because I didn’t want him. He felt he owned me. He would teach me the lesson that I would never forget, and he would make sure that I never left him again. He might even kill me. I wouldn’t put it past him to kill me. He’d killed a lot of other people. I was sure of it.
I tried to block those thoughts out of my mind as I followed Rachel to the back of the store where she was showing me the new shipment of inventory. There were several bins full of books that were being delivered, and in the small box sitting on top of that stack of totes were a handful of stickers.
“You look at the bin number and then you just match it,” Rachel said. “These go up every single Sunday. It’s important that we try to get to them as early as we can, but sometimes it’s tough because so many customers come in on Sundays.”
“Ok,” I said. “I think I can manage that.”
“Great. Stick a wad of those stickers in your pocket and grab a tote. Let’s go out back to the mystery section and start putting these ones away. We sold a lot of stuff last week since we had that big Agatha Christie sale, so now we have a lot of replenishing stock.”
“Where do all these used books come from?” I asked. I bent down and lifted a tote. It was far heavier than I thought. I felt a catch in my back accompanied by a little bit of pain, but I engaged my legs and core and didn’t even flinch as I followed Rachel out of the storeroom towards the front.
“Oh, mostly donations. Some of them are overstock from bookstores and they can’t get rid of the supply, or maybe there is some misprint or mistake on the cover—that happens way more often than you think-so they send them over here. That’s why sometimes you will stumble across a new book, but it has a few flaws in its printing so it is sold as used.”
“That’s interesting,” I said. I wasn’t knowing that at all. I was starting to wonder if I had oversold this job to myself at first. I wasn’t going to be that happy here, after all. I’d be bored. Bored, but safe. That was the important thing. I just had to keep remembering that.
We arrived at the Mystery section and sat our totes down. I observed Rachel matching the tags with the right books. She placed the small red tags on the book’s spine trying not to obscure too much of the title or the author’s name. I followed suit and Rachel smiled at me clearly pleased.
I settled into the routine of the work. It felt good to just get my mind off things for a while. I was almost tempted to start whistling but thought better of it. The silence was good while it lasted. But Rachel was in a chatty mood.
“So, where are you from again?” she asked me.
“Fresno,” I lied.
“Ah, never been there. I’ve only been to California a few times now. I went to Los Angeles to that Universal Studios place. That was so neat. It was like taking a trip inside the most famous movies I love. I love movies. I love books. But movies are amazing to see everything right there in front of you, right?”
I sighed. I was already getting a headache. Why did she have to talk so damn much?
But I tried to be polite to my new coworker. I had a feeling I was going to be spending a lot of time with her. And she was nice. I could tell she meant well. She was probably pretty lonely, and it was a very small boring town where nothing ever happened. I was probably considered big news in her little world. So, I tried to be understanding. An image of the town sign flashed into my head just then. I’d passed it on the way into town and thought it was interesting to note. The town’s population was only eight thousand. I’d definitely driven through smaller towns, but the town at least had the basics of life. Plus, if I really wanted to do something fun, Tucson was only about eighty miles away.
“Yeah, it’s fun. I love movies, too. But I love books better because in a book the