DEECE ONLINE

The bell on the door of Blakeland Books chimed, it was a cold and hard afternoon. The shop had no heating and was only a touch above the outside in terms of temperature. A man in a thick woolen overcoat walked in. He held himself tight, his hands buried in his pockets and his eyes were hidden behind small rounded frames, a hat was on his head. Benjamin looked up from the book he was reading to see the new customer. The shop was at its peak hour, another four people browsed as the man took his place, looking through the classics section. Benjamin put the book page down on the counter and stood up. He walked over to the man and watched over his shoulder. The man didn’t turn around. He was looking at a hardback copy of War and Peace. The thing was a brick. His hands were gloved.

‘Wonderful book.’ Said Benjamin.

‘I never read it.’ Said the man.

‘A lot less intimidating when you break it down.’

‘Is that so?’

‘It’s best to look at it as many small vignettes.’ Said Benjamin.

‘I see. Tolstoy doesn’t interest me.’ Said the man.

‘Oh.’

‘Not a lot of books interest me.’

‘Maybe they should. Reading is a gift.’

‘Reading is a waste of time.’ Said the man.

He had now turned around and was testing the weight of the volume in his hand. Benjamin looked around. Nobody paid attention to them.

‘What’s the time?’ Said the man.

Benjamin looked over to the clock. It said 3:10.

‘2:58.’

The man looked at the clock.

‘No it’s not.’

‘It’s 12 minutes fast.’

‘Then why don’t you fix it.’

‘I need a new ladder.’

‘I suppose you’re short on money to buy one.’

‘A little.’ Said Benjamin.

‘That’s a shame. How can a man even make rent these days?’

Benjamin laughed nervously at the comment.

‘Perhaps you should take lunch.’ Said the man.

Benjamin swallowed and nodded. The air had suddenly turned brown and he could see the dust in the air.

Walking over to the door he announced he was closed. Everyone else in the store looked up with a stupor in their eyes like they had all just been woken up. Three of the people left, the last man held a copy of Carmella that he wanted to purchase. Benjamin rang him up while the man in the coat waited behind the customer. When Benjamin had walked the customer out and locked the door he turned to see the man in the coat fiddling with the radio that was on the corner of the counter. He turned the knob and only silence came out. When Benjamin returned to the counter he turned it on for the man. It was halfway tuned to a classical station and he adjusted it so the frequency came in more clearly. The man reached over Benjamin’s hand and turned the radio off. Silence snapped into the air again and the man looked at him. There they stood in silence together. They were alone. Benjamin didn’t know what to say.

‘Must be quiet running a place like this.’ Said the man.

‘Most days.’

‘It gets busy?’

‘The pubs sometimes do.’

‘I’ve always enjoyed the muffled sound of a party.’

‘Yes, it’s quite pleasant.’

The man pulled Benjamin’s book closer to his side of the counter and inspected the dust jacket.

‘Great Expectations.’ Said the man.

‘Yes. Charles Dickens.’

‘I’ve already read it.’ Said the man.

‘I’m sorry. What is it that I can do for you?’ Said Benjamin.

‘There’s a queer that works here.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘A queer.’

‘Michael? He’s not a queer.’

‘Yes. That’s his name. He’s a queer.’

‘What is it he’s done?’

‘He hasn’t told you?’

‘I’ve not had the slightest clue he was in trouble until today.’

‘What did he tell you?’

‘He said a man might come in asking for him.’

‘Is that all?’

‘Yes. What is this about? Is he in trouble?’

‘Where can we find Michael?’

‘I’d assume he’s at home. It’s not his day in today.’

‘I see. And where is his home?’

‘I’m not sure I should tell you.’

‘You can tell me.’ Said the man. He closed the book on the counter.

‘He lives in the Bancroft building.’ Said Benjamin.

‘What number?’

‘I’m not certain. 416 I think. What is this about?’

‘Did you know Michael likes to play dress up?’ Said the man.

‘It’s not any of my business.’

‘He’s a fag.’

‘It’s not any of my business what he is. And what does it concern you?’

‘Getting quick there friend.’

‘I’m not sure I want to call you a friend.’

‘Watch it.’ Said the man. He adjusted his glasses in one quick motion before burying his hand back in his pocket.

‘Can you give me directions to the Bancroft building?’

‘No I cannot.’ Said Benjamin.

‘Why not?’ Said the man.

‘I don’t know where it is.’ Said Benjamin.

‘It can’t be far.’ Said the man.

‘Look on a map.’

‘Do you have one I could use?’

‘I think it’s time I open the shop back up. I still have another hour before I should close for the day.’

‘When will Michael be working next?’ Said the man. Once again he adjusted his glasses in a quick motion.

‘He’ll be in tomorrow. You can speak with him then but I have no desire to help you find him until then.’

‘I’ll go.’ Said the man, and he walked away from the counter and out the door. Benjamin watched him walk out of the alley the shop sat in and down onto Collins street. When the man was gone out of sight Benjamin left the door locked and found the copy of War and Peace the man had removed and put it back in its place on the shelf. He stood still for a moment. He could hear a nearby pub. They were loud in the quiet of the shop, even from outside. Benjamin returned to the counter and picked up the phone that was behind the radio. He dialed a number and waited. When nobody picked up he called again and there was still no answer. He put the phone down and opened the store back up. Customers came to and fro, none pouring in. He stayed open much later than he usually did. It would be better for business if he did stay open later. People usually visited on their way home from the pubs and the extra money was good. When he closed the shop it was nearly eight. It was a quick walk home and he entered his apartment alone. It was empty and he went to make another call. He made multiple, all of which ended sharply or did not start at all. When he finished his calls he stayed up sitting in silence in an armchair. When the clock struck eleven he went to bed not having eaten.

The next day he opened up the bookshop at eight. It was silent and the air was still brown, the dust still floated in the air, visible through the morning light. He sat alone reading Great Expectations. Magwell told Pip of his time in Australia when the bell chimed. It was Michael. He had bags under his eyes. He walked by Benjamin and into the stock room and into the bathroom in the back. Benjamin could hear him vomiting. He put his book page down on the table and went to the bathroom door. He could hear his gasp for air before he heard the sound of the toilet flush and of running water. When the door opened Michael looked palefaced.

‘A man came yesterday.’ Said Benjamin.

‘What did he say?’ Said Michael.

‘He wanted to know where you were.’ Said Benjamin.

‘What did you say?’ Michael repeated.

‘I told him you’d be in today.’

‘Did he say anything else?’

‘He asked where you lived.’

‘And what did you say?’

Benjamin didn’t speak until Michael repeated the question.

‘I told him you lived in the Bancroft building.’ He eventually spoke.

‘What is wrong with you.’ Said Michael.

‘That was all I said. I swear.’

Michael walked past Benjamin and to the front counter, his eyes locked away from him.

‘I tried to phone you. Where were you?’ Said Benjamin.

‘I was out.’

‘You were drinking again?’

‘Yes.’

‘With him?’

‘No.’

‘But you were getting fucked.’

‘Oh grow the fuck up.’

‘You fucking slut! You always do this to me.’

‘I don’t want to hear it. You were lucky I wasn’t with him last night. Christ, I’ve got to tell him before something happens.’

Michael left the store quickly, ignoring the phone on the counter. Benjamin sat still at the counter in the silence of the store. The sound of his own breathing bothered him and he picked chips of wood off the corner of the counter, listening to the clock tick 12 minutes ahead. When the clock struck 9, really 8:48 Michael returned. He held his arms like he was holding an infant and looked straight where he was going, ignoring Benjamin. He walked back into the stock room. Benjamin tried to focus on the words on the page but none of them held any meaning then. Eventually Michael came out with a crate of books and began lining the shelves. Benjamin stared blankly at his book and listened to the sounds of Michael placing books. When Michael was visible to Benjamin, he tried to make eye contact. Michael turned a corner back away from him. When he finished, Michael hid in the stock room and held his face in his hands. Benjamin thought he heard him vomiting again not long after. That’s when Benjamin left to get something to eat. He went to a cafe at the end of Collins street and had a muffin and a coffee and bought the morning paper. He read it as he ate but soon stopped eating. He ended up spitting his last bite back into the muffins wrapper, throwing it in the garbage along with the paper.

When he returned to the shop it was closed. Benjamin unlocked the door and turned the sign back around to open before he hesitated and turned it back to closed. Michael wasn’t there anymore. It was just Benjamin, alone as the dust floated between the shelves forever.