When the two reappeared, Nora tried to act as casual as she could. But inside, she was pretty shaken. Lock her up forever? Why, and where? But before she had time to further ponder, the old man spoke to her. "What's your name dear?"
"Nora," the girl answered. Almost instantly, Max took out a notepad from his back pocket, as well as a pencil from behind his ear, and began scribbling down every word.
The white-haired man ignored him, sitting on a stool behind the counter. "Well Nora, is it alright if I ask you a few questions?" She nodded, eyes flickering from the man to the reporter and back again. "In that case, let's start with your family."
Nora hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her uniform. She had always tried to avoid family-talk, seeing as most people thought her parents were alive and well. But the fear of being locked away was greater than her dislike of the subject, so she reluctantly answered. "My twin sister and I share an apartment. She just started working for the government. And my parents...they died fifteen years ago." She hung her head blinking back a few tears.
Had she been looking, she would have seen the two men exchange glances. "I'm sorry," the elder of the two said softly and sincerely, much to Nora's surprise. But he quickly moved on to his next question. "And do you know how they died?"
Once again, the redhead fell silent for a moment. This was more than she had wanted to say. But the piercing gaze from the older man, combined with the eager stare the blonde was giving her, compelled her to answer. "Well, I was only two when it happened, but I was told they were working undercover for the government..."
At that, Max narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but the white-haired man cut him off. "Please Max, let her finish."
Nora glanced between the two, biting her lip before continuing. "Well...they were at a book burning, trying to subdue the protesters. But there were too many of them, and...and someone pushed my parents...i-into the fire." The closer she got to finishing her sentence, the quieter she got. And by the time she had finished speaking, her voice was little more than a whisper. The redhead blinked quickly a few times, hiding the tears that threatened to break free at any moment, before risking a glance over at Max. His face had been twisted into a scowl, and there were a few holes in his paper where the pencil had ripped the page. Obviously something she had said had set him off, although she couldn't figure out what. But her thoughts were cut short by the older-man's voice.
"And who told you this?"
"A man from the government," Nora replied slowly, as if the easy question was a trick, as if the answer hadn't been obvious.
Without missing a beat, the man moved on to his next question. "And how do you feel about those protesters, and about books in general?"
For the second time, fear crept back into the redhead's system. What if these two men were part of the government? What id this was a random screening, to see if she was pro-book? With thoughts like these in her mind, she chose her words carefully."I don't think books are good for our society," she said, eyes scouring both males' faces for signs of emotion. And she found one, though it wasn't the one she expected.
A small smile crossed over the older man's face, much to Nora's surprises. "What a vague answer," he teased, chuckling slightly. "It's OK, you can tell us the truth." When the redhead's jaw dropped, he laughed again. "You tend to be able to read people well when you've lived as long as I have," he said with a wink. "Now, tell us the truth."
Nora gulped, but slowly nodded. Even if they were with the government, lying couldn't save her now. "I...I want to see, I want to read, a real book. I want to learn something real, something besides the Great War. I want to read a story, one with romance, or comedy, or even tragedy. I..." The girl cut herself off by biting down on her lip, hoping she hadn't said too much.
The white-haired man fell silent for a moment before nodding and standing up. "Well then Nora, I think you should come with me." Without waiting for her to follow, he stood and turned, walking towards the back corner of the store.
Max, who had been vigorously writing, scurried to the front and changed the sign on the door from "open" to "closed" before hurrying to catch up. And Nora, albeit a little hesitant, brought up the rear.
The back of the store was lit by a single bare light bulb, casting strange shadows over even stranger clothing. The leader of the group nodded towards a rack of clothing, and the younger of the men stepped up and pushed it out of the way. Hidden by the flashy clothes was a door, no bigger than five feet. Max opened the door and stepped inside, hunching over to fit. The old man followed suit, leaving the redhead alone. But by now, she was totally intrigued. After all, what could be more mysterious than a hidden door? So of course she bent down as well, stooping to enter the low passageway. Before she started walking though, she grabbed the rack and wheeled it back over the door. It had started hidden, so she left it just the way she found it. With the door closing behind her, she began to walk forward.
Luckily, the corridor rose a bit as she went further in, so she could stand at full height once again. Unluckily however was the darkness. The girl felt like she had been walking for nearly an hour in the pitch black when a faint glow appeared at the end of the tunnel. Nora ran towards it, eager to get out of the terrifying dark. Finally, she made it to the end, now able to see her destination.
At the end of the hallway was a room, no larger than her entire apartment. But it was the things inside the room that made her jaw drop once again. There were shelves going wall to wall and floor to ceiling. And filling those shelves were none other than books. All four walls had shelves, and there were two more rows in the middle, creating an aisle of walking space that joined with the outer square of carpet. To the direct right of the door was a small chair and a table, holding only a locked money box. Behind the "counter" stood Max, the older man by his side.
"I don't think we've officially met. This is Max, and I'm Mr. Witticker. Welcome to the Last Bookstore."
ns3.148.201.19da2
