Kelly squinted as I walked in, as if in disbelief. "Angela?" she asked, her voice awe-stricken, "Oh my goodness, and so we meet again!" I rolled my eyes and stepped up to the counter, "Honestly, Kelly. It hasn't been that long." Kelly rose an eyebrow and pulled her lips to the side in disagreement as she said, "So what brings you here? Looking for a good read?" I smiled and shook my head, "Nope. Summer's just about upon us again. And I'm going to college soon enough." I smiled at her big blue eyes that sparkled behind her coke-bottle glasses, "I need a job." She clapped her hands together in delight, "Ah! Angela is
back!" I shook my head, "Could you just call Stephen? I'm gonna go look at the new releases." Kelly nodded quickly and turned, stepping back behind the front desk and opening the door to the back room as I walked towards the back shelf that, ironically, held the new releases. Stephen always said that most book stores were all about out with the old, in with the new. In his words, "So we bring the new ones far
in, and set the old ones so that they'll go
out!" I grinned, remembering the stubbornness of the old man and his love for literature, and walked to the back shelf, pulling a random book off and opening it to the page where the strings holding the pages to the spine showed. I pulled the book up to my face and took a big whiff, taking in the smell of newly printed ink, unread pages, mysteries waiting to be solved by eyes falling over the pages, widening and narrowing according the words sewn together like a quilt by the author. "Ah, and so there is the Book Sniffer!" a familiar, friendly voice said from behind me. I snapped the book shut, tucked it back on the shelf, and turned to smile at Stephen. He looked the same as ever- same short white hair, excited blue eyes that were dulled not by his wrinkled face and those hands that were so tired from years of flipping pages and gliding pens along paper. "Hello, Stephen," I replied with a wide grin. "And so you've come for a job, I'm hearing?" he asked with one raised eyebrow. I nodded and smiled, "Yup. Working alongside that granddaughter of yours again will be a pain, but, you know, what're you gonna do." Stephen laughed and Kelly waved off my remark as she arranged books on the "Classics" case. "Well," Stephen said, "and so you will have it. This place will do good to have you on board again. Always were a charmer to customers, weren't you?" I smiled and nodded, and Stephen nodded back, "Ok, then. I'll see you on Monday for the afternoon shift. Still in school, aren't you?" I nodded, "Two more weeks." He nodded back, "Good, good. Always said education was the rightest thing, but Kelly, here-" Kelly shook her head, "Grandpa, I already
graduated high school!" He wove her off, "And so you did, so you did. What about college?" Kelly rolled her eyes and turned away from him, shaking her head and opting not to explain to him that she was in college
right now again.
"Ok. Ready?" I asked as I pulled up a chair next to Milly in the studio. She looked up from the book she was reading, "For what?" I grinned, "Next Word That Comes To Mind time." She grinned and closed her book, "You start." I grinned and said, "Music.""Good Charlotte."
"Emo."
"Shane Dawson."
"Youtube."
"Internet."
"Facebook."
"Stalkers."
"White vans."
"Ice cream truck."
"Gum."
"Baseball."
"Babe Ruth."
"Babe the pig."
"Bacon."
"Aw. That's sad."
"Next word!"
"Sorry, sorry. Eggs."
"Chickens."
"Decapitation."
"You think of decapitation when you think of chickens."
"Well, yea. Come on, next word."
"Machete."
"Grass."
"What?"
"You know, cutting grass with a machete. Or weeds, or whatever. Next word."
"Picket fence."
"Suburbia."
"Warner Brothers."
"Animaniacs."
"Pinky and the Brain."
"Mice."
"Cats."
"Dogs."
"Snoop Dogg."
"Rap."
"Country."
"Music."
"Ohhh!" we yelled in unison, pointing at each other and laughing. My mom came in the room, her painting apron on, and raised an eyebrow at us, "What's happening in here?" Milly smiled, "Next Word That Comes To Mind. Wanna play?" Mom grinned and pulled her stool away from her easel sitting with us. "You start," Milly said to mom. Mom grinned wider, "Air."
"Wind," Milly said. I grinned, "Leaves."
"Rakes."
"Shovels."
"Horror movies."
"Scary babies."
"Black eyes."
"Bullies."
"Cliques."
"Outcasts."
"Cast Away."
"Tom Hanks."
"Angels and Demons."
"Christianity."
"Church."
"Offering."
"Money."
"Jobs."
"Cubicles."
"IRS."
"Debt."
"Jail."
"Mugging."
"Coffee mugs."
"Starbucks."
"Latte."
"Frappuccino."
"Chocolate."
"Wine."
"Light-headed."
"Balloon."
"Air."
"Ohhh!" we all yelled in unison. Mom laughed and stood up, "Well, enough of that for now. I'm going to paint, and you kids should be working on your homework. You don't want you grades to plummet in the last two weeks of school." Milly looked back down at her book, ignoring the homework comment, and I left the studio, going up to my own room and following my mom's rarely-given advice.
© 2010
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