McCloud's

McCloud’s

I Peeked through the window of the little bookstore with the word "McClouds" frosted onto it, my eyes sparkled above rosy cheeks, flushed by crisp autumn air. I gazed at the two people inside the shop as they worked. The man sat on the antiquated desk chair, bent over the computer, glasses nearly slipping off his long nose. He had squinty eyes capped by bushy eyebrows and tufts of washed-out hair were combed neatly on his head.  The lady stood beside a rolling shelf, packed with books. She had a compact figure with a blunt nose and bright, almond eyes. Her silver was nearly shoulder length and had flowing layers that perfectly framed her smiling cheeks. She selected the book on the top of the stack and tucked it onto one of the many shelves that engulfed the little shop. Every so often they would both look up from what they were doing, their eyes would meet, and they would smile at each other. Authentic, genuine smiles. With wrinkled eyes and stretched lips, they were perfect. My hand closed around the brass door handle, melting the frost that covered it. The door swung open and the little bell that hung above it chimed cheerfully. They both looked up from what they were doing and smiled their perfect smiles. The lady dropped the book she was holding and rushed over to envelop me in a warm hug. Her wool cardigan wrapped around me and the chills from outside melted away.

"Jordyn! How are you, my dear?" Her question was muffled by my hair. I couldn't help but break into a wide smile. 

"Hi, Blanche! I need a new book!" She let go of me and I dropped the brown bag that was weighing down my shoulder carrying countless books. The man stood up from his creaky chair and made his way to where we stood. 

"As always," His eyes shone with amusement as he slung his arm around Blanche's shoulder. "You read almost as much as I did when I was your age, before all this technology mumbo-jumbo.". Blanche nodded and then her eyes widened as she scanned my shivering body.

"Oh, honey you must be freezing! Albert, she needs some tea!" She clicked into action at once, puttering around me, sitting me into a chair, and pressing a cup of warm tea into my hands. My knuckles were still pink from the frost. I laughed and shook my head. 

“Thank you, It’s bitterly cold out there!" Blanche stopped puttering and smiled, smoothing my hair behind my ear and pulling up two chairs across from me. She gestured for Albert to come and he sat down beside her. 

"Well then, tell me how you've been."

The three of us sat and talked for close to an hour, about home, about school, about books, and about music.

"Music!" Albert perked up, "What a splendid idea!" He shuffled over to the record player that rested behind the front desk and lowered the needle onto the record. A bouncy, raspy, joyful, song threaded its way through the air. Albert's shuffle turned into a step, and his step turned into a waltz. He reached out his hand and took Blanche's, twirling her out of her chair and into the center of the dusty bookstore. The light from the window shone on them like a spotlight. Laughing and clapping along to the music, I decided to find a book while they danced. So I searched through the shelves of endless books until I found one that immediately caught my attention;  an indigo leather-bound book titled Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. I deposited the books that were already in my bag onto the book cart and slipped the new one into it. I then made my way to the door, disappointed to go home and leave the dusty, pleasant, bookstore.

"Thank you, see you tomorrow!" I waved at the dancing pair, and they paused to wave back and say their goodbyes. I walked through the door and the bell chimed on my way out. The biting air hit me like a fist in comparison to the cozy store, chilling me to the bone. I wrapped my jacket around me and crossed the street, looking back and gazing at the glowing light spilling out of the window and onto the snowy concrete, warming the street, if only just a little. The hum of the record settled on the dim-lit street. Beyond the cloudy light they were dancing, hand in hand, heart for heart. They were perfect. 

A day passed where every spare moment I spent between classes and meals reading my new book, until finally, I was again, kicking up slush and leaves down the sidewalk that lead to McCloud's. My heart lightened at the thought of going to the place I had been waiting all day to come to. I swung the door open and rushed inside, the warm, dusty, air immediately beginning to relieve my stress. The little bell announced my arrival and caused Albert to look up from his work, startled.

"Jordyn! How was your day?" He pushed his glasses up his long nose.

"Oh you know," I waved a hand through the air, "same old, same old, glad to be here!" I beamed. I proceeded to look around the shop and asked "Where's Blanche?"

"She stayed home today. She wasn't feeling her best. But she will be ready to go by tomorrow I think! So we will see you on Tuesday! Are you excited to go visit your family?"

"Oh ya! I'm excited, but Thanksgiving is always so stressful for my mom."

"Yes, yes, for Blanche too. But we like to keep it casual. I'm just excited for the food!" Albert chuckled. 

"Yes! I hope it will be awesome!" I beamed, until a pit of dread settled in my stomach as I remembered that my mother had asked me to come straight home after school. I jumped out of my relaxed position. "I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, "But I have to get going, my mother had asked me to help her after school and I completely forgot!"

"Don't worry about it, dear." Albert smiled, amused. "Enjoy your weekend." I flashed him a smile as I darted out the door. 

Thanksgiving weekend went by in a blur filled with food, relatives, and my mother's impatience until again, school had ended on Tuesday and I found myself in my routine of walking down the lonely street that led to McCloud's. Walking the street was always a calming thing, the repetition of my footsteps down the sidewalk, and the murmur of people milling around the shops. I was lost in thought as I arrived at the window I had come to love. Immediately all the worst-case scenarios appeared in my brain. McCloud's window was dark. I tried the handle, locked. There was no sign in the window, but there was a pile of scattered books laying on the floor. Hundreds of birds, all carrying different tragedies, flapped around my brain, distracting me from thinking logically.  I frantically told myself they must be having a day off, but I knew that wasn't true. Albert and Blanche had never closed the store for a day of work since I moved sixteen years ago. I desperately tried to think of a reasonable explanation for the rest of the day and the next one, too. Every day of that week I rushed after school to the bookstore. Wednesday; nothing. Thursday; nothing. Friday; the light was on. I saw the light from down the street and ran as fast as my legs would move. I burst through the door to see two customers roaming the shelves and another talking to Albert. The sight of Albert sent a wave of relief over my shaking nerves. But then I noticed two things were wrong about the picture; Blanche wasn’t there, and the lady he was talking to Albert looked a little frightened of him. I had walked in mid-conversation and Albert looked upset.

"How am I supposed to know?” he hissed, “you expect me to know everything? Get out of my shop!" I stood motionless, watching the encounter. She set the book she was holding down on his desk and scurried out the door. The bell chimed. I had never once before seen Albert lash out that way.  I started towards his desk but another customer got there before I could. A tall man, with an armload of books, all classics. 

"Hi there, I would like to purchase these books," he requested politely. Albert had been staring at his desk, but then looked up at the man. He spotted a book in the man's arms; Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. He suddenly jerked forward and tore the book from the man’s arms, sending the rest of the novels flying onto the floor. He stared intensely at it, a mix of fury and agony in his eyes. 

"No," he muttered. The man stood up, after gathering the books on the floor. 

"Excuse me?" The man drew his eyebrows together, and lifted his chin, looking down at Albert. 

"I said no. You may not buy this book." Albert looked up and glared at the man, challenge in his eyes.

"Well, then I'm not buying any of these books! You'll never get my business again old man!" He spat.

"Good riddance!" Albert shouted. I flinched, I had never heard Albert yell. The last customer in the store worriedly watched the man storm out of the store and quickly followed. The bell chimed. I stood for a moment, staring at Albert. The man I had known for years,  who had been a grandfather and a father to me when I didn't have one. The man whose wife was the only lady I had ever loved and respected. Albert now sat, defeated, unrecognizable, staring out the window. I slowly walked over to him. I stood right in front of his desk, but he didn't react. 

"Albert?" I whispered, announcing my presence. He closed his eyes and inhaled, deeply. The bottom of his eyelid shone, kissed with what I thought might be the beginnings of a tear. Before I could ask he turned his face towards me with blank eyes. He held Wuthering Heights close to his chest. I then remembered it as one of Blanche's favorite books. One she had recommended to me on numerous occasions. "Where's Blanche?" I breathed, hoping the answer I had been putting together in my mind was not what had occurred. Albert's eyes shifted into focus at the mention of her name.

"Blanche?" He paused and took a shuddering breath. "Blanche fell ill last week. What I thought was a simple cold was blood cancer. She... she passed away on Saturday." My heartbeat thundered in my head, making it impossible to think of anything except Blanche’s milky blue eyes and her warm hugs. I crumpled onto the floor, shaking. I looked up at Albert, who now had a tear running down his face. He stared out the window. I could barely make out the store through the blur of tears stinging my eyes. 

"I am so, so sorry, Albert. I- I can't even imagine how.." 

"Jordyn.” he interrupted, “you need to leave now." His emotionless words cut into me. I felt rejected. Blanche was gone, Albert was broken. My safe space had dissipated. I staggered to my feet and out the door. The bell chimed, leaving Albert alone in his store filled with memories. I was outside the window and looked at him. His desolate eyes looked past mine, to a place only he could see. He had been transfigured into a mere wisp of a man. Blanche had held us all together more than we had realized. No longer perfect.

It was three months since Blanche’s passing. I hadn’t visited the shop in almost two months. It was painful, McCloud’s was my escape. But now it was only a cause of more stress. After avoiding the shop decided to see how Albert was doing. My feet quickly fell back into their regular rhythm and the familiar street calmed my nerves. I walked past a store that had boards on its windows I had never seen before. Then I stopped. I stepped back three steps and stared hard at the shop. It was McCloud’s. It had been shut down. The store, my store, my sanctuary. It was gone. I knocked on the boarded-up door. No answer. I felt hot tears burn in my eyes. In a burst of rage, I kicked the door. My foot hit something. I looked down and saw a book. Wuthering Heights. I wiped the tears from my face with a cold hand and picked up the book. I flipped open the front cover and found words scratched in Albert’s writing; “For Jordyn, may you enjoy as much as my love did. I never got to say goodbye to her. I won’t make that mistake again. So I must say goodbye to you. However, goodbye doesn’t mean it’s the end. I say, It is just temporary. I know not where I am going, to see the end of the earth or to dance on the clouds or to sit in the ocean until the waves take me. Wherever I go I will go with her memory.” That was the end. The end of Albert and Blanche. The end of McCloud’s. For me, it was the end of my sanctuary. I had watched the store go from a cheerful, pleasant store run by cheerful, pleasant people, into a lonely old man leaving his store to do god knows what. It was far from the perfect ending. But it’s the ending that happened. The end.