Muriel’s Second Hand Book Emporium, Chapter 1: The Inheritance

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Only those who knew where to look saw them sway and weave and whirl to the quiet music of the night. Lavender and lilac, periwinkle and magenta, swirling and twirling. To the buzz of the cicadas, the chirp of the common nighthawk, the rush of bird wings, and the water lapping and tapping against the rocky banks of the meandering creek.

Aunty Muriel was probably one of those people. Eva, on the other hand, was not.

At least, she wasn’t until the night she moved into the apartment above Aunty’s bookstore. No. It was her bookstore now. Should she change the sign out front?

Eva didn’t know. She didn’t know the first thing about books or stores or what to do with either. She’d spent most of her life lost in her anthropological work of garden and flower fairies. The little folk fascinated her, and she composed paintings and drawings of the way they brought color into an otherwise drab and colorless world.

So, when she saw the purple clouds that first night above the bookstore, she couldn’t tear her eyes away until they had retreated into the embrace of a starless darkness.

It happened after a long day of unpacking. She’d locked the front doors against the loneliness of the rural night and climbed the groaning, sagging stairs to the living quarters. What was she to do? Why did Aunty leave her the place? Why not to her cousins?

She kicked her shoes into the corner, where the boxes and bags from her last apartment were still stacked haphazardly. She’d just sat down at the rickety dining room table and put her head in her hands when an eerie purple glow filtered down through the skylight.

Eva watched the clouds as they danced a secret dance just for her. She stared, mouth open.

What are you? Where did you come from? She thought she could hear their music, too, in the way they caressed the glass of the skylight as though welcoming her home.

Eva fell asleep under the rays of the colored light with a smile. At first, her dreams were soft and full of song. Of fairies and flowers. A kiss of home.

But then, she dreamed of the bookstore and the books within it coming to life. They chattered at her, spewing their black letters as though they were incantations of eons gone by. They marched up the stairs, threatening, demanding with a rustling of pages and a clacking of spines.

The next morning, when dawn woke her with gentle warmth, Eva walked down the stairs, her heart in her throat.

Aunty Muriel’s place didn’t look much different in the daylight. The air was thick with the dust and smell of old paper and vellum. Everything creaked. But the books, unlike in her dreams, remained where she’d seen them before.

The stairs opened into the backroom where hundreds - or perhaps thousands - of uncatalogued books covered every surface, stacked from floor to ceiling. Eva carefully picked her way to the table in the corner. It was littered with letters, pieces of torn paper with Muriel’s spidery writing, and half-empty inkwells. She rubbed her temples where a headache was gathering. What was she to do with all this?

She stepped through the curtains into the main shopfloor and released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. It was far neater here. Shelves lined all the walls and marched down the worn wood floor in neat rows. Antique tables with glass tops held book weights and bookmarks of all shapes and sizes, some with tassels and others with clamps for all sorts of readers.

Eva walked from row to row, studying the layout and its contents, trying to imagine and understand how Aunty Muriel must have run it. She noticed that the books with unmarred, glossy covers were on newer shelves toward the front of the store. Light streamed through tall glass windows, illuminating the variety of books on offer.

Further back, where the light didn’t shine as brightly, were the larger, older books. Heavy leather and cloth bound volumes with thick, cracked spines stood in an array of faded colors. The shelves were older too, and they leaned against each other as though they were whispering secrets from the pages they carried.

As Eva walked past two of those shelves, a sense of intense deja vu washed over her. Had she been here before? She couldn’t remember. Scanning the books for anything familiar, she reached up to pluck a heavy volume from one of the shelves, disturbing dust that floated down and settled on her nose. She sneezed.

Then, she looked down at the book she held. The Enchanted Gardner’s Guide to Forest Flowers, the cover announced in elegant gold lettering on a worn red velvet. Eva was about to trace the letters with her finger when she nearly dropped the book.

“Ah, I see you’ve found one of my favorites,” a voice had said from just behind her.

Eva jerked her head around to see a woman with short silver hair and piercing blue eyes. Wrinkles traced deep story lines of a long life along her pale skin. She wore a lacy light blouse and a skirt that swept the floor. On her long, elegant fingers, she wore rings with gems that shone and sparkled when they caught the light.

"You must be Eva," the woman said, smiling at her surprise and extending a hand. Her voice was low and airy. "I'm Samara. Well, Sam. I was Muriel’s best friend and I helped her take care of this little wonderland.”

Eva hesitated for just a moment before reaching out to shake Sam’s hand. Her grip was warm and strong. "Nice to meet you Sam," she said after she found her voice. "Sorry, I thought I had locked the front door last night, and I didn't hear you come in."

Sam made a dismissing gesture with her graceful fingers. “Oh, no matter. Well, then, what do you think of this place?"

"It's different,” Eva said. “I didn't know what to expect, but I wasn't expecting this." She spread her arms in a wide arc, encompassing all of it.

"It's quite special, isn't it? Muriel rescued all these pre-loved books herself. She could point to any one of them and tell you its history. That one you’re holding, for instance, came from the estate of a disgraced noble who was forced to give away all his possessions.” Sam’s voice grew softer as though she were remembering. “I miss her, you know?”

Eva looked down at the book she held, tracing its thick pages. “I didn’t know Aunty Muriel so well. I don’t know why she even… well. I’m here now. And I’d like it very much if you told me about her and these books.”

Sam beamed at her. “I’d love to. You know, she was always adding to her collection. The older, the better, she'd say, those are the ones that have the most life."

Eva laughed at the perfect impression of her Aunty. She felt warm and comfortable standing here with Sam. It made her feel much less alone and overwhelmed with the whole endeavor. Smiling, she carefully replaced the book. “I have the oddest sensation sometimes…” she started to say before she could stop the words.

“Oh?” Sam's piercing blue eyes looked expectantly at Eva, and there was a long silence.

Slightly embarrassed, Eva continued, “the books here do feel… almost alive.”

Sam laughed, and Eva felt her cheeks redden.

"You are definitely related to Muriel,” she finally said when she caught her breath, “Muriel used to say that too. And I suppose, in a way, they are alive.” She ran her fingers along some of the spines, "To me, they are old friends with fascinating stories and lessons."

Eva was about to ask another question when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Oh," she said and walked curiously toward the front door. She'd made it as far as the end of the row when she turned to say goodbye to Sam.

But Sam was gone.

Eva looked around the corner, marveling at Sam’s quiet movements.

"Sam?"

There was no reply.

But there was that odd sensation of deja vu again. She shook her head, doubting her own mind when she heard Sam’s voice echoing from a distance.

"I'll check in with you later, Eva, have a good first day."

Weird.

"Ok. Uh... see you later," she called back, then continued to the front door as the knocking became more insistent.

Eva hurried to the double doors, reached for the key on a hook near the doorframe, and unlocked it. When she pulled them open, the first thing she saw was a red and yellow dragon the size of a pony. It sat on its haunches, black claws withdrawn. Its tongue lolled to one side as it looked happily at her, its tail thumping against the cobblestones.

"Hello there!" Eva said, walking down the steps to reach out and scratch the soft scales under its chin, "aren't you a handsome boy. Who do you belong to, I wonder?"

"Oh sorry, Miss Spellman!" said a small voice. Eva took a step back abruptly and looked at the dragon, her head tilted.

"I didn't know your kind could talk," she said, "forgive me for-"

"Oh no, Miss, it's me. I'm just... ah... one moment. He's being particularly difficult today."

Eva walked around the dragon, who kept his big eyes pinned on her and curled his long neck to follow her gaze. Behind him was a small boy with a shock of black hair, who looked to be about 11 years old. He was pulling on the dragon’s leash and struggling to tie it to the hitching post in front of the big, weather-worn sign that read Muriels' Second Hand Book Emporium.

The dragon continued to playfully resist the boy’s tugging. With a sound of exasperation, the boy reached deep into one of his jacket pockets and pulled out a dragon biscuit in the shape of a chicken as big as his arm. It smelled of roasted pumpkin and peanut butter.

“Here, boy,” he said, holding it up and waving it to the dragon, whose tail thumped even faster, “come and get it!”

The dragon lunged forward with his long neck and snapped up the tasty treat into his drooling, toothy jaw. The boy acted fast, pulling on the leash and securing it before the dragon could pull away again.

“Hah. There!” he said, stepping back to look at his handiwork.

The dragon, who had already swallowed his prize, purred and rubbed his great crested head against the boy’s shoulder, knocking him off balance and making him laugh.

Eva watched the two play for a moment, grinning at the friendly exchange. The boy and his dragon reminded her of the friends she’d left behind when she moved to the bookstore. Fairy folks played with their frog and mouse pets just the same way.

Not too long after, the boy stepped back and firmly told his dragon to stay put before he turned to the stairs.

“Sorry about that, Miss Spellman,” he said, finally looking up to see her. “Oh, you’re not Miss Spellman, are you,” he said, hopping up the steps to the bookstore. “Is she here? I need her help.”

Eva hurried up the steps behind him, trying to keep up. “Actually,” she said, “I am a Miss Spellman. You’re probably talking about my aunt, Muriel Spellman, though. She’s…” she wondered how she’d break the news to boy so young when he interrupted her.

“If you’re a Miss Spellman, then you can help me. I think. I need a book on dragon training,” he looked up at her, his fingers fiddling with his jacket. “Ember is not going to stay a pup for long, and my ma says that if I don’t get him trained soon, she’s going to send him back to the pound. The only thing is…”

Eva looked into his small serious face. “What is it?” she asked, careful to keep her expression neutral.

“Well, see the thing is, I don’t read so good. So I was wondering if maybe you have a book with lots of pictures?”

“Of course we do,” said a voice coming up the stacks.

Sam reappeared, a large book in her hands. She winked at Eva, then beckoned to the young boy. “Your name’s Max, isn’t it?” The boy nodded as he followed Sam to one of the tables. “Well, Max, Muriel thought you might be needing some help with that big beast of yours, and she had me order this very special book of dragon training tips just for you. It has lots of pictures.”

Max’s eyes lit up as she talked, and he eagerly flipped through the pages.

Sam stood next to him for a few moments, then said, “When you’re ready to buy it, just give Miss Spellman there the payment. Best of luck to you and Ember.”

Eva took a few steps to follow her when Sam turned a corner and disappeared from view. Again. She stood there mutely for a moment then turned hurriedly toward the table where Max was still perusing his book.

When she saw Max, she breathed a sigh of relief. Ok. So, not all of the people in this bookstore were as odd and evasive as Sam. How did she move so quietly?

Max’s little voice brought her back to the moment. He stood in front of her, the big book of dragon training tips tucked under one arm. In the other, he held out a few tattered notebooks. Eva took them from him gingerly, worried that the pages might fall apart in her fingers.

“Oh, what are these?” she asked.

“They’re payment for the dragon book, Miss Spellman,” Max said, already bounding toward the entrance. “And thank you!” Then, he was gone.

Eva stood still, holding the age-yellowed pages, looking around the sunlit store, and wondering what she’d gotten herself into.

--

Author's note:

Hi friends! Welcome to Muriels' Second Hand Book Emporium, a novel concept that came to me when I sketched out ideas for the "Under Purple Clouds" magical realism prompt on Vocal+.

Eva's story is set in a brand new world and has a whole lot of unexpected adventures. I must admit that I've already fallen in love with the characters. Who is your favorite? Would you like to hear more? Let me know in the comments below, and I'll see what I can do :)

Always in your corner,

R. J. Rani