the Reading Hound

Fire was all around him. Every door was covered in liquid flame. Jack, Tyler's Basset hound, had escaped through a hole in a broken-down back door. Tyler remained trapped because of his frustratingly large human form. There was nothing he wouldn't give to be his dog right now.

A crowd had gathered outside the inferno, and an older woman with a shower cap on, shrieked as she realized, there was someone still stuck in the house. Tyler desperately looked for an exit, grasping for any exit he could make work. His eyes darted like a wild animal to the left and right. He couldn't see. Using only his instinct, while coughing from the thick smoke, he reached along the floor until he found his window. Using the snow globe from his trip to China, which had serendipitously fallen under the window, the floor, Tyler thrust it towards the glass window and felt relief as it shattered and fresh air filled his lungs. Using his elbow, Tyler smashed out more of the glass and swiftly hurled himself away from the ever-growing blaze.

Before Tyler hit the ground, he woke with a start as his dog Jack licked his face. Out of breath, he laughed and muttered:

“ Thanks for waking me up Jack. I’m done reliving the past. “

Although Tyler had escaped the inferno, his parents did not. While mourning his family and his home, eighteen-year-old Tyler also had to take on the powerful insurance company. Men in suits were convinced Tyler was somehow the cause of the fire. Seasoned attorneys rejected his claim, and destroyed any hope of recompense. Tyler had nothing.

The wind howled and snow fell as he pulled the blanket over his legs. It had been five years since the fire. Five long years. Spending that time living on the streets of Colorado rubbed Tyler’s morale raw. Begging for food, and fighting for warmth made even the simplest tasks unbearable. The ceaseless snowfall broke against the last threats of his lingering faith.

Normally, Tyler would panhandle in front of the local Gas-N-Go or The Black Bear Buffet, but today was different. It was Tyler’s birthday and the fifth anniversary of the fire.

Because of his grievous flashback, he wanted to remember his birthday differently. Saving a small amount of money from his soliciting, and after buying enough food for him and Jack, he counted what was left in his pockets.

$1.57

"What can I buy myself with that, Jack?"

Jack just looked back at him and whined.

Feeling discouraged, but determined, Tyler headed downtown. He wanted to go to a place he had always seen but had never dared to venture inside. It was an ancient-looking bookstore. Painted Shamrock green with gold trim, the massive temple of books bore a large window at the front. Gold cursive script formed the outline of a hound and swirled into a name: “The Reading Hound “

" Hey Jack, look at that! They named a bookstore after you! "

Jack wagged his tail and barked.

Tyler tied his companion to the rusty mailbox leaning precariously against the bookstore. Entering the cozy-looking palace, Tyler was intoxicated by the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and musty antique books. Seeing no one at the front counter, and noticing the cookies on a plate, he grabbed more than a few and mumbled, "Happy birthday, me."

No one seemed to be in the massive storehouse, so Tyler took his time as he meandered through aisles and aisles of books. He picked up novels about aliens and nonfiction about different types of cows. He snatched anthologies filled with stories and legends of princesses, dragons, and knights. He seized every sort of book that interested him, fact or fiction. Finally, he found his arms were filled without room for even one more tale. The wood plank floor creaked beneath his feet as he found his way over to an overstuffed, faded red armchair. Reposing his weary body on the welcoming chaise, he read every book he had collected, consuming every piece of knowledge he could.

After four hours in that chair, he slowly rose ready to buy a book that he could afford. He searched through more shelves and books, wanting to find something special, something meaningful, but also something less than $1.57. He needed it to fit his needs, one that he could take on the street without getting wet when it rains. It was a veritable treasure hunt. Tyler spent a long time diving through the pile of haphazardly stacked books in a large wire basket, marked with the sign scrawled, "SALE" in red letters. When he was about to give up, Tyler glimpsed an empty shelf just to his left. Intrigued, he walked closer and was shocked to notice, the name at the bottom of the empty shelf was his own. "Tyler Beau Avenir" His name was unique enough that he was dumbfounded. Confused, he drew in his face close to the handwritten name on the shelf, as if the name would give him an answer. Shaking his head, as if to awaken from a dream, he backed up and saw the shelf was no longer empty. There, where formally there was nothing, was now a black leather notebook.

“There was no notebook here before “ Tyler announced aloud.

“That’s because the bookstore is calling you “ a young woman appeared from behind.

Stunned, Tyler swung around in fright.

"Don’t be alarmed. I just want to thank you for coming inside and reading my books." The youthful woman had unruly, long silver hair, and brilliant blue eyes, but she couldn't have been older than Tyler. "It's nice to see someone is still interested in books."

"Thank you, miss. Though I think I should be the one thanking you, I mean, this is the best place to read and honestly, you have the most impressive collection of books. How long did it take you to collect so many books ?” he answered, still uncertain of her age.

“Let us just say it took me a long time," she answered mysteriously. "I'm curious, what brought you to my store?" she asked, seemingly peering into Tyler's mind.

“ Well, today is my birthday..." Tyler trailed off. "What did you mean, the bookstore is calling me?” he questioned.

“ I meant exactly what I said. Now, this notebook is exactly what you need. Are you going to buy it? “ she demanded.

Tyler was uneasy.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and felt the crumbs from the cookies he had crammed in them earlier. Feeling guilty, he looked at the floor and shrugged.

The impish woman standing in front of him sensed his struggle.

"Look at the price tag" she implored him.

Tyler picked up the notebook and a yellowed tag fell. It landed on the floor face-up and the price was clear even from there:

$1.57

Amazed, he took the notebook and gave her the money.

The cover was smooth black leather and it had little strings wrapped around the notebook to keep it shut. On the spine of the book was an intricate pattern of criss-cross lines that, if turned at an angle, shaped little squares.

"Look inside," she said.

He unraveled the leather strings and opened the notebook to the first page and noticed it was a lot thicker than he had noticed on the shelf.

Opening the cover, paper unfolded like an origami flower box and revealed a two-inch stack of $100 bills.

His eyes were overcome and his wonder blossomed into overwhelming joy.

“ How? How did yo-“ he was tongue-tied from the shock. He was overjoyed, excited, treasured, and comforted. The warmth of possibility radiated from him for the first time in years. All at once, his future was no longer the dreaded cold that followed him since the fire.

“This bookstore gave you this notebook and money because it believes you would make a great book.”

“ I can’t take this ! “ he cried

“ You can and you will. Thank the bookstore by writing books. Look around. Do you think all these books were written by professional writers? No, the bookstore gave them the chance it's now giving you. Some took the notebook, others didn’t. “

He couldn’t find a word to express his gratitude, but somehow he knew this was just the beginning of his new journey as an author.