It All Begins At Chapter One

A rather throbbing beat rings in your ears as rain patters across a cobblestone path. Your boots make a slight thud, a minor squeak from the rubber soles against the hard stones. The sound of sloshing water as you walk. Light tapping hits your raincoat as you toss your hood on in haste. Even in your raincoat and boots you can feel the cold, wet rain trying to seep into your skin. A yellow warm light draws your attention down the cobblestone path to reveal a hidden bookshop sitting at the end of the dark alley. The smell of the alley is cold and wet, as if it’s never gotten an opportunity to dry. You walk closer as the lights seems to warm you like the warmth of a comforting hug.

The bookshop itself should be off-putting, the closer you come to it the more you notice that it’s seen better days. Around the windows and door dark green paint is flaking. The red brick above is practically stained black. The shop windows, although big in size, is covered in grime alone the bottom of each window grille. Even with its sunken rook and crooked door, it somehow adds charm.

Despite its appearance, each step draws you closer to the inside, an indescribable pull. Stepping in, that yellow light that warmed you is now a soft glow, like the warmth of a candle without the constant flicker of a dancing flame. The familiar feeling overcomes you. The silence that permanently resides in a bookstore. Not required like a library where you fear the “shh!” from the glaring librarian for daring to breathe too loud. But rather a sign of respect for fellow lovers of books everywhere.

The size of the shop surprises you. It’s double in size, as if it’s cloaked somehow behind that stained red brick. The floor is a light hardwood, scuffed with shoe marks that have never been scraped off. Dingy carpets cover it from further wear. It creaks as you walk across the floor, the wood announcing your presence. You stop as you look down at your boots, they are completely dry, as is your raincoat. You turn behind you to see no wet footprints following behind.

You turn your attention back to the shop, every square inch is covered with books. Some books stacked on top of each other, creating little towers and cities of their own. Tight aisles, enough for just one person and a ladder that sits on rails to reach books that sit on the top shelf which is about ten rows high. Archways are used for books too; random shelves sit on them. The smell of books fill you. Worn leather bound books, you wonder if they are first editions. The hidden stench of too many cardboard hardcovers in one place, thankfully hidden by the material covering it. The paperback with several lines through the spines, a well-read book. The pages stained with the smell of ink, words waiting to be read.

Towards the back of the shop sit some chairs with a large wooden table. Books rest on the top, tightly closed, chairs pushed out in front like someone is sitting there. You reach out to touch one of the books and find they are stuck in place, shut tightly. Displays perhaps? Chairs also stationed in their place. Perhaps someone just left to grab another book, their absence only meant to be short. But as you look around, no one is here.

A ladder slides across the rails, the hardware scratching against the metal. It startles you as you look up and notice the ladder stopping at its aisle. Empty. It feels like it’s for you. Telling you to go.

“It’s called for you.” You turn as a shop clerk stands there. His voice soft and caring, something you’d crave from a parent or teacher, an instinctual comfort. Although he’s young in appearance he speaks like an old soul. A tan apron hangs from his waist, a stained cloth peaking of the pocket, perhaps for dusting books. “It will take you to your next story.”

You look at him puzzled. Ladders don’t move without something helping. You grab the ladder looking for some small motor or battery. But it shakes you off, a loud clanging at the bracket holds it from jumping off the rails, almost as if it reads your mind and finds the thought offensive. You step back rather in shock, bumping into the shelf behind you. A book clatters to the floor.

The shop clerk picks up the book, resting it back in its place. “Perhaps you’ll ride along with the armored knight as he rides to save the princess. Maybe you’ll be walking alongside real historic figures as you watch them make the history you’ve only heard about. Or you’ll be flying in various planes, learning their style and craft. You could become a child again, next to your favorite childhood character as they go on their various adventures. Voyage space perchance? Watch a young woman become queen and rule a kingdom. Dine along a group of friends before they graduate college and venture off on their own lives.” He smiles. “It awaits.”

“What awaits?”

He nods to the ladder. “It will show you.” He pulls out a chair as it vibrates across the floor. “This one is free.”

You should be scared. But instead you grab hold of the ladder and step on to it, it sinks slightly under your weight. Suddenly it flings down the aisle as you wrap your arms around the rung. Wind rushing past you as you wait for the crash at the end. It stops just mere inches from the other shelf. A relief of breath releases from you. You glance up as a book pops out of the rows. You climb up, pulling it from the shelf. The ladder moves again, this time, moving slower back to where you started. You climb down as the clerk stands behind the chair.

The ladder rolls away as you glance back at the table. A book that was once there is gone, the chair pushed in. “They finished their story.”

You shake your head in confusion. No one was sitting there. In fact before the clerk arrived, you thought you were the only one here.

“Surely you’ve caught on by now?”

You don’t answer. You can’t believe it. Places like this don’t exist, things like this don’t exist. Living on this earth as long as you have, surely you would have seen something before this? Heard of something before this? You look back at the clerk as he sits on the table. Waiting for you to accept what you already know. Because this bookstore isn’t just any ordinary bookstore.

Glancing down at the book, no title exists, no author name. The book remains shut tight, you can’t open it or shift through the pages.

“One of my favorites.” The clerk smiles towards you. “Take a seat, place the book on the table. When you’re ready, open it and it will transport you.”

“How will I know if I like it?”

“The book didn’t choose you, you choose it. The ladder just lead you to where it was. But you can leave at anytime, take a break, come back another time. It will be there…waiting for you.” He points to a book sitting next to him. “She’s been back five times with this book. Not my personal cup of tea but it’s got a bit of a thrill to it. Either way, the stories are here for you. For you to leave this world and enter another. Live the lives of characters that don’t exist in this world. That’s the beauty of books.”

He stands as you take a seat in the chair, it’s hard and solid. The chair slides up to the table as you set the book on the top. The table is sturdy to hold you through whatever is about to happen next.

“It’s its own magic without there ever being any. You can live as many lives as you want just by turning a page, reading but only words. But here you get to experience it on another level, call it magic if you must. Rather it’s just another element for you to enjoy the story.”

You turn towards him but he’s gone. No sounds of departing footsteps linger, not even a woosh of air like he just passed by. He’s simply vanished and you start you wonder…was he ever there? You turn back towards the book, the hardcover smooth against your fingers. Suddenly the book begins to budge and you are able to open it. The pages flip to the opening chapter where you are pulled into the book. Where a new world for you all begins at chapter one.