Homer's Tales and Toys

You could never finish your job here. That is why you have but a single year. Don’t dally or waste. Give haste. 

Sara could imagine the script, the curved persuasive letters, etched into her mind one night. When she woke, she was here in a book store.

Sara had spent 364 days here and now that it was coming to an end, she wanted nothing more than this stay to go on forever.

“The dust smells different here,” Sara said, feather duster lightly running along the rows of shelves. “It smells old, like knowledge. Like wisdom, adventure. And Rasheem, you were right. You were right.”

The store was called Homer’s tales and toys, owned by the ethereal spirt owner Rasheem Homer, whom she had spent most of her first day arguing over everything from scheduling, to pay, breaks and sleeping arrangements after the store had kidnapped her during almost dreamless sleep. 

“I can’t believe I felt that way. I mean…”

It was hard for Sara to think back to who she had been before. Always worried about what was to come and what hadn’t happened. She spent more time planning and rehashing past failures than enjoying the present. So worried about how far she hadn’t gotten in her life and what she had yet to accomplish. 

Sara laughed as she tried to grab the tiny hummingbird, produced from a small silver alarm clock every hour, on the hour. 

The hummingbird landed on her finger before vanishing. Sadly, Sara picked up the small silver clock. It fit easily in the palm of her tiny hand. She could cup one hand around it, fingers wrapping around the small bells, obscuring the tiny black oblong arms. 

“I had just turned 29 and was worried about how little I had achieved by 30. I really thought my life was going to end at thirty. I’m going to miss you.”

Sara knew she wouldn’t take the clock. It would stay here, atop of the glass case, for the next employee or customer to decide if it was theirs. Sara’s index finger traced a small heart in a thin layer of dust around the clock as she thought back to her first conversation with Rasheem. 

“How do I leave?” 

“You have a single year.” 

“I know you said that. But how do I leave? Or will you just let me go after a year?” Sara yelled at the air. 

“Ah… Well, after the year is done, you will depart. You can leave early if you find what your heart sings for.”

“If I find what my heart sings for?” Sara fell into a plush green velvet chair, arms crossed with a hmph. “And how will I do that?”

Sara had walked around this place and it didn’t seem that big. Maybe 1,000 square feet. Sara hadn’t explored the back area she assumed was some type of storage or employee break area. From the conversation they had had so far it was probably where she would sleep considering the store wouldn’t let her leave. 

The store was some type of bastard creation of a pawnshop, a fancy cigar shop, and a cozy library. Despite her frustration, the store had impressed her with the heavy display cases and sturdy shelving that were bursting with everything from books to boats. It even had a cozy sitting area where she was arguing from.

“I want to get out. Is there a crowbar?”

“I can’t tell you what your heart will sing for,” the voice said, ignoring her comment. “But once you find it, you can leave. If you don’t find it by a year, you will leave. Most find it before and wait for the year. There is one other way to stay longer.”

“And what is that?” Sara asked with a chuckle. 

“You must get rid of all the dust.”

“You knew it was impossible. Didn’t you? There would never be enough time.”

There was no answer in the deafening silence that created a space Sara no longer minded.

Sara picked up a feather duster and frantically cleaned, hoping to buy more time. Sara knew there wouldn’t be any customers today giving her more time for the vain effort.

This magical shop held everything from the mundane to the magical. For every magical alarm clock, there was a pen and stationary. For every board game, a wand or flying broom. At one point Sara thought about trying to count every item, then she thought about just counting the magical items, then the books, pens, brooms, board games, but she gave up. This place was infinite. She never got lost. It wasn’t a labyrinth and regardless of her location she had a straight sight line to either end. She could cross this place in about a hundred steps and yet there was always something new. Shelves stretching magically to hold whatever they needed. Once Sara had seen a whole flying motorbike on a bottom shelf. When a large half giant bought it, the shelf had shrunk as if it had never been there. There was always enough and never too much. 

Cleaned surfaces shone back at her. Clear glass and polished silver glaring at her. The color of recently dusted books popped against the smooth chocolate brown shelves.  

I don’t even want to stay. I just want it to be perfect for the next person. 

She shook her head with a smile. There was too much. There was always too much. For every book she dusted or broom she polished something else, more ancient, would exist. Something else that needed love. 

Sara spoke to the air as she wiped down a shelf she had just cleared. “You knew this? You always knew that it was impossible? I guess I did too.”

It was bittersweet. Because as much as she had been cleaning to buy time, Sara was also trying to find that thing that would make her heart sing. 

“Maybe… maybe I will just take the clock,” she said absentmindedly as she re-shelved the dusted books.

It doesn’t make my heart sing though. Rasheem will know. 

Sara didn’t know if Rasheem would stop her. She knew this thought went against the idea of her work. This item was her compensation for her work. For a year of service, she got to take a single item. At first it was a fool’s bargain, but now it was too much.  

After everything you have given me, how can I take one thing? Or how can I take just one thing? I either want everything or nothing. But I don’t deserve any of it. 

Sara thought this implicitly feeling that Rasheem knew. A sad smile threatened to sour her expression when her fingers sparked, heart fluttered, and her body flushed from cheeks to toes as goosebumps raced down her spine. 

“This is it.” 

Tears of joy attempting to overwhelm her, Sara wiped the dusty tome.

“Is it a spell book? A magical recipe book or a book of portals?” With each guess her anticipation grew until finally the last layer of dust came off.  

The Iliad 

& 

The Odyssey 

Homer

Gold filigree accented the simple golden text on the almost black navy leather cover. The spine had the same words as the cover and the back was blank. Turning the book over and over in her hands Sara's smile grew, cheeks swelling into a broad cheshire grin. The book could have been the first copy ever bound, or some new form of printing. The only magical quality of or in the book was the fact that Sara couldn’t tell if it was a hard cover that had softened with age or if it was a supple leather book made sturdy by its size. No matter, Sara’s heart sung. 

“This is it then?” Sara asked Rasheem. 

The golden bell that hung over the door rang in response.

“Every time a bell rings…” Sara trailed off, book in hand as she walked towards the ajar door. 

Without a backwards glance, Sara left, only leaving a few words to linger as evidence that she had ever come.  

“Thanks for the journey.”