Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
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Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Malakiel Tue Sep 10, 2019 12:41 am
Many of the bookstores in NYC specialized in mysticism but none as good as the Weiser Antiquarian Bookstore. A formidable place, crowded with old books in different departments: occult, secret societies, Egypt Mythology and Magic, Greek Mythology and Magic, Mythological Creature and so on... No book there contained actual spells or secret rituals to be perform. However, they were a very interesting source of knowledge to understand how the mystic world worked from an outsider perspective.
Sadly for many reader most of the book weren't in english, many were written in french, Sanskrit, Latin and other dead languages. Still, many other were translated for the english readers as well.
Today was just another day, Cyrill Paxton crossed the door activating the small bell hanging from the top of the door frame announcing his presence. The bookstore had two floor:
The first was full with less interesting bookshelves crowded with general public stuff who just watched a TV show that mentioned an occult topic would do their shopping. The latest new age garbage from wannabe mystics, sanitized translations of real knowledge, and just flat-out made up crap.
The second floor looked a lot like the first, except for a wall sized painting of the Confederate General Albert Pike and much less bookshelves carrying many most of the non english texts and better sources to real knowledge but the very interesting stuff, the one Paxton had never put his hands on was behind a thick blue velvet curtain that covered a secret passage to the back of the store in the second floor.
This was no library, there was no space to read, just to pass a few pages before deciding to buy or not what the reader had pick up. Down in the main floor were two employees, another in the second, helping the potential buyers in their quest. The owner of the store was an old man sitting behind a desk at the backstore of the main floor still visible from the right angle but too busy doing handling his business.
The usual routine was to pick up a book, buy it and go to the nearest park to have a good time reading the first pages of the next master piece.
Sadly for many reader most of the book weren't in english, many were written in french, Sanskrit, Latin and other dead languages. Still, many other were translated for the english readers as well.
Today was just another day, Cyrill Paxton crossed the door activating the small bell hanging from the top of the door frame announcing his presence. The bookstore had two floor:
The first was full with less interesting bookshelves crowded with general public stuff who just watched a TV show that mentioned an occult topic would do their shopping. The latest new age garbage from wannabe mystics, sanitized translations of real knowledge, and just flat-out made up crap.
The second floor looked a lot like the first, except for a wall sized painting of the Confederate General Albert Pike and much less bookshelves carrying many most of the non english texts and better sources to real knowledge but the very interesting stuff, the one Paxton had never put his hands on was behind a thick blue velvet curtain that covered a secret passage to the back of the store in the second floor.
This was no library, there was no space to read, just to pass a few pages before deciding to buy or not what the reader had pick up. Down in the main floor were two employees, another in the second, helping the potential buyers in their quest. The owner of the store was an old man sitting behind a desk at the backstore of the main floor still visible from the right angle but too busy doing handling his business.
The usual routine was to pick up a book, buy it and go to the nearest park to have a good time reading the first pages of the next master piece.
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Galon Tue Sep 10, 2019 9:57 am
To Cyril this was a paradise of sorts, this was his element. While many new age hipsters were checking out books on Wicca and trendy “potions and modern-day love spells”. Cyril turned his gaze to the stairs; he could smell the old ink and horse hide glue of the old book bindings. The acrid smell of tanner from the old leather covers, the musty and chalky feel of the air; he could taste the dust as it crept down the back of his throat.
These were not books, oh no…. These were tombs that were sealed and had long been resting on the shelf, awaiting their day of resurrection. Perhaps this was the day, for Cyril had arrived. With nimble fingers he trailed the tip of his fingers over the tops of the books. He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow as he looked at the titles with hardly any enthusiasm. Many were the same book just re-designed and redistributed.
Cyril removed from his pocket a peppermint- clearing his throat, he had loved these since childhood and these helped his dry throat. The taste of the peppermint brought back his childhood memories. Something about peppermint comforted him, he could not remember why peppermint was so important. Each time he tasted the essential oils from the sweet meat, he was whisked back to his days of his childhood. He never could remember what peppermint reminded him off, but it was there…He had long forgotten about Mr. Brick, but he would never know that was what memory the peppermint brought back.
Cyril saw two employees in the store on the main floor. The wise old owner whom Cyril had spoke to on several occasions was really busy with “business”. Cyril rubbed his bare chin as he glanced up the stairs. Cyril was not interested in the books down on the main level, there were also very few he really knew about on the second floor, yet as his eyes drifted up the stairs; his eyes locked with Albert Pike. It was in that moment that something spoke to Cyril.
“How will you ever know? You have a chance now, you know… Will you take the risk?”
The blue velvet curtain was always a mystery to him and this was the busiest he had ever seen the book store. Maybe he could get a quick peek, after all he could feign ignorance. Perhaps this was not off-limits, merely not examined by others. Cyril’s pace quickened with a purpose as she ascended the steps, careful to not look obvious but not overly sneaky as well. A happy medium of both, his eyes remained locked on Pike. He knew about the other side of history surrounding Albert Pike aside from his days as a confederate. Perhaps this intrigued Cyril. He reached the top of the stairs and made his way to the one place in the bookstore he had never got to see.
These were not books, oh no…. These were tombs that were sealed and had long been resting on the shelf, awaiting their day of resurrection. Perhaps this was the day, for Cyril had arrived. With nimble fingers he trailed the tip of his fingers over the tops of the books. He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow as he looked at the titles with hardly any enthusiasm. Many were the same book just re-designed and redistributed.
Cyril removed from his pocket a peppermint- clearing his throat, he had loved these since childhood and these helped his dry throat. The taste of the peppermint brought back his childhood memories. Something about peppermint comforted him, he could not remember why peppermint was so important. Each time he tasted the essential oils from the sweet meat, he was whisked back to his days of his childhood. He never could remember what peppermint reminded him off, but it was there…He had long forgotten about Mr. Brick, but he would never know that was what memory the peppermint brought back.
Cyril saw two employees in the store on the main floor. The wise old owner whom Cyril had spoke to on several occasions was really busy with “business”. Cyril rubbed his bare chin as he glanced up the stairs. Cyril was not interested in the books down on the main level, there were also very few he really knew about on the second floor, yet as his eyes drifted up the stairs; his eyes locked with Albert Pike. It was in that moment that something spoke to Cyril.
“How will you ever know? You have a chance now, you know… Will you take the risk?”
The blue velvet curtain was always a mystery to him and this was the busiest he had ever seen the book store. Maybe he could get a quick peek, after all he could feign ignorance. Perhaps this was not off-limits, merely not examined by others. Cyril’s pace quickened with a purpose as she ascended the steps, careful to not look obvious but not overly sneaky as well. A happy medium of both, his eyes remained locked on Pike. He knew about the other side of history surrounding Albert Pike aside from his days as a confederate. Perhaps this intrigued Cyril. He reached the top of the stairs and made his way to the one place in the bookstore he had never got to see.
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Malakiel Tue Sep 10, 2019 10:33 am
The keeper of the top floor of the bookstore was a bold african-american with cottom white shirt under a dark blue coat and slim black pants of about fifty years old. He was a very serious guy, been there even from the first time that Paxton came to this store, usually sitting on one of the three wooden chairs available on the top level.
Cyrill and Mortimer have had a few chat along the years of knowing each other. At first about prices and book types, book's ages and all sort of information about book in general. The guy spoke five languages and was able to read twice that much, including hieroglyphics and sanskrit among others. He never spoke about himself but judging by his knowledge surely he was an anthropologist or archaeologist of some sort.
When Paxton arrived he said.
"Good morning young Cyrill. How are you?"
Cyrill and Mortimer have had a few chat along the years of knowing each other. At first about prices and book types, book's ages and all sort of information about book in general. The guy spoke five languages and was able to read twice that much, including hieroglyphics and sanskrit among others. He never spoke about himself but judging by his knowledge surely he was an anthropologist or archaeologist of some sort.
When Paxton arrived he said.
"Good morning young Cyrill. How are you?"
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Galon Tue Sep 10, 2019 10:49 am
Cyril froze and shot his eyes in the voice of the direction,
“Good morning, Mortimer. I ummmmm”, Cyril paused.
Cyril then found his eyes drifting back over the blue velvet curtain and the large picture of Albert Pike. He blankly stared at it again. He then continued with,
“Who is that, up there? He stares at me.”
Cyril did not look back at Mortimer but it was obvious that he had been meaning to ask about the blue velvet curtain and the portrait for quite some time. Cyril was still young, but he had an old soul- he got along well with older guys. He often had a hard time relating to them as they were not interested in books. Cyril indeed cared about his health and was not a stick, but he was not built like a linebacker either. Cyril knew that if anyone knew the answer it was Mortimer.
“Good morning, Mortimer. I ummmmm”, Cyril paused.
Cyril then found his eyes drifting back over the blue velvet curtain and the large picture of Albert Pike. He blankly stared at it again. He then continued with,
“Who is that, up there? He stares at me.”
Cyril did not look back at Mortimer but it was obvious that he had been meaning to ask about the blue velvet curtain and the portrait for quite some time. Cyril was still young, but he had an old soul- he got along well with older guys. He often had a hard time relating to them as they were not interested in books. Cyril indeed cared about his health and was not a stick, but he was not built like a linebacker either. Cyril knew that if anyone knew the answer it was Mortimer.
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Malakiel Tue Sep 10, 2019 11:19 am
Morti stood up and went next by Cyrill contemplating the painting with a solemn air and said.
"That is Confederate General Albert Pike, he was a remarkable member of the Freemasons order. An wise man, scholar, poet, writer, jurist and speaker of many great pieces in American History.
He was also an enthusiast of occult and mysticism and owned the largest and more prestigious library of that sort in the entire continent. An inspiration to all members of the selected elite of booksmen that seek wisdom to treasure it and build a legacy for the generations to come."
Then Mortimer placed his hand over Cyrill's shoulder like a father patting in acknowledge of his son and went to the fence that guarded the second floor, preventing from falling down. Looking down on the bookstore with certain nostalgia in his expression.
After a few seconds he asked.
"What brings you today to our quarters young Cyrill? Something specific?"
"That is Confederate General Albert Pike, he was a remarkable member of the Freemasons order. An wise man, scholar, poet, writer, jurist and speaker of many great pieces in American History.
He was also an enthusiast of occult and mysticism and owned the largest and more prestigious library of that sort in the entire continent. An inspiration to all members of the selected elite of booksmen that seek wisdom to treasure it and build a legacy for the generations to come."
Then Mortimer placed his hand over Cyrill's shoulder like a father patting in acknowledge of his son and went to the fence that guarded the second floor, preventing from falling down. Looking down on the bookstore with certain nostalgia in his expression.
After a few seconds he asked.
"What brings you today to our quarters young Cyrill? Something specific?"
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Galon Tue Sep 10, 2019 11:51 am
Cyril felt the hand of Mortimer on his shoulder and let the words of the figure whose portrait he looked up- sink in deep. They took root and perhaps this was one of the writers he should investigate, later. He had come in for a specific book, nothing to mystic or magical but something one so young would never have thought of reading. Cyril glanced away from Albert Pike and looked to Mortimer and offered him a genuine smile.
“The Secret of Life, by Georges Lakhovsky? Have you heard of it? It is nothing special, but what is life, Mortimer?”
Cyril placed his hands in his tweed trouser pockets and tilted his head, looking inquisitively at Mortimer
“Is it the dynamic equilibrium of all cells, the harmony of multiple radiations which react upon one another?”
What kind of youth concocts such an answer, one might wonder? Cyril was smart but a lot of his knowledge was scattered; it had not been properly categorized yet. He often at times spoke wisely but sometimes it was outright jibberish. This was partly because, at his age, somethings he read were well…. Way out of his league, but he tried. Often more than not he also failed. He also tried to impress Mortimer as well, as Cyril admired him and his intellect.
Cyril was not being rude but as a young boy, he was trying to be a man. He should have been out chasing girls and playing sports- instead he spent his time among the dead words of long passed authors.
His gaze fell upon the blue velvet curtain slowly, curiosity was setting in.
“The Secret of Life, by Georges Lakhovsky? Have you heard of it? It is nothing special, but what is life, Mortimer?”
Cyril placed his hands in his tweed trouser pockets and tilted his head, looking inquisitively at Mortimer
“Is it the dynamic equilibrium of all cells, the harmony of multiple radiations which react upon one another?”
What kind of youth concocts such an answer, one might wonder? Cyril was smart but a lot of his knowledge was scattered; it had not been properly categorized yet. He often at times spoke wisely but sometimes it was outright jibberish. This was partly because, at his age, somethings he read were well…. Way out of his league, but he tried. Often more than not he also failed. He also tried to impress Mortimer as well, as Cyril admired him and his intellect.
Cyril was not being rude but as a young boy, he was trying to be a man. He should have been out chasing girls and playing sports- instead he spent his time among the dead words of long passed authors.
His gaze fell upon the blue velvet curtain slowly, curiosity was setting in.
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Malakiel Tue Sep 10, 2019 7:38 pm
Mortimer smiled and replied in a tone of joke.
"Wasn't it downstairs? I can't remember..."
After a few seconds the old man continued.
"I admit that some of his theories to apply symbolism to medicine are at least interesting.
Still it isn't in this floor."
The rest of the bookstore had much more people than the second floor. From time to time a curious visitor went upstairs to watch some of the titles and then a pattern started to show: Mortimer wasn't guarding the blue velvet curtain and people passed by ignoring it completely.
From Cyrill perspective he could see the breeze caused by people walking by to move the curtain so it was real.
"Wasn't it downstairs? I can't remember..."
After a few seconds the old man continued.
"I admit that some of his theories to apply symbolism to medicine are at least interesting.
Still it isn't in this floor."
The rest of the bookstore had much more people than the second floor. From time to time a curious visitor went upstairs to watch some of the titles and then a pattern started to show: Mortimer wasn't guarding the blue velvet curtain and people passed by ignoring it completely.
From Cyrill perspective he could see the breeze caused by people walking by to move the curtain so it was real.
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Galon Fri Sep 13, 2019 10:23 am
Cyril snapped his head back to Mortimer as he replied and his jaw was still slightly lowered. Cyril had taken note of people just passing by the blue curtain and suddenly the book he had been interested in took a back seat. The picture of Albert Pike, called to him, the blue velvet curtain with its smooth and delicate flutter enticed him. Cyril moved closer to the velvet curtain and looked back to it and reached out to it.
“Maybe it is behind here, Mr. Mortimer sir?”
Cyril knew it was not but it gave him a reason to place his hand on the curtain. Which he did with reckless abandon, the soft crushed velvet beginning to mold into his hand. He waited to pull back the curtain as he slowly turn his head back to Mortimer. His gaze was one of gleeful intent to open the curtain, yet Cyril knew…
He had to be polite and he respected Mortimer, but he was curious and the wonder of what rested behind the curtain was becoming to much.
“Doesn’t anyone come back here? It might be back here sir.”
Cyril tightened his grip and light licked his dry lips in anticipation.
“Maybe it is behind here, Mr. Mortimer sir?”
Cyril knew it was not but it gave him a reason to place his hand on the curtain. Which he did with reckless abandon, the soft crushed velvet beginning to mold into his hand. He waited to pull back the curtain as he slowly turn his head back to Mortimer. His gaze was one of gleeful intent to open the curtain, yet Cyril knew…
He had to be polite and he respected Mortimer, but he was curious and the wonder of what rested behind the curtain was becoming to much.
“Doesn’t anyone come back here? It might be back here sir.”
Cyril tightened his grip and light licked his dry lips in anticipation.
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Re: Another day at the Bookstore (Flashback)
Malakiel Fri Sep 13, 2019 11:53 am
Cyrill's hand touched the blue velvet and it's dusty yet smooth and soft texture was appealing even a sensual caress for the teenager. Just doing so had a sense of realization.
Mortimer on the other hand was at ease. He doesn't seem to be bothered at all with Cyrus' actions so interpreting it like it was an indirect permission he made his way in, just to discover empty hallways of bookshelves. Without any of the wonders he could have imagine.
While Cyrus was standing in the middle of nothingness Mortimer joined placing a hand on his shoulder and saying
"This is the old wing of the bookstore. We used to have wonderful tomes, many key pieces of the occult waiting for the proper owner to come. With time Doctor Edmond's collection is been diminishing and we can only fill the front shelves with it. I'm sorry to disappoint you young one."
That day Cyrus went home empty handed but with his head full of dreams, about private collections and secret rooms inside that bookstore. One day he'd discover it.
Mortimer was helping Edmond with the last checks and he said in a serious tone.
"Master, the boy Cyrus was able to see and go through the curtain..."
Edmond turned and grabbed his glasses to empathize his surprise and said.
"Most interesting Mort, most interesting..."
Mortimer on the other hand was at ease. He doesn't seem to be bothered at all with Cyrus' actions so interpreting it like it was an indirect permission he made his way in, just to discover empty hallways of bookshelves. Without any of the wonders he could have imagine.
While Cyrus was standing in the middle of nothingness Mortimer joined placing a hand on his shoulder and saying
"This is the old wing of the bookstore. We used to have wonderful tomes, many key pieces of the occult waiting for the proper owner to come. With time Doctor Edmond's collection is been diminishing and we can only fill the front shelves with it. I'm sorry to disappoint you young one."
That day Cyrus went home empty handed but with his head full of dreams, about private collections and secret rooms inside that bookstore. One day he'd discover it.
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ THAT SAME NIGHT AFTER CLOSING ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
Mortimer was helping Edmond with the last checks and he said in a serious tone.
"Master, the boy Cyrus was able to see and go through the curtain..."
Edmond turned and grabbed his glasses to empathize his surprise and said.
"Most interesting Mort, most interesting..."
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