Soul Search (A Short Story) - June 19, 2012
Drew was a contradiction of a man. On the outside, he was all darkness and leather machismo. He rode a Harley to his manual labor job at the Department of Public Works. He cussed like a sailor with Tourette’s when he was comfortable and he was unapologetic about his positions. He used his body like a living canvas; he had lost count of how many tattoos now adorned it. If you didn’t like what you saw or heard, you could kindly fuck off. Even other men could admit he was ruggedly handsome and they were more than a little envious.
Truth was that Drew had the heart of a nervous, sensitive poet. He all too often wore his heart on his sleeve, only to have it ripped off. People assumed he bedded many of the women who pined after him, but they scared him shitless. They were best to be avoided in his book. He wasn’t into heavy drinking in seedy bars that blasted country music or hunting on the weekends with his brother in law. He didn’t have the stomach for either. Instead, he spent his time off riding his Harley around the countryside, looking for a quiet open field to read or sketch in his notebook undisturbed. He also had a weakness for second-hand bookstores.
It was a sudden downpour that forced Drew off the road and into the poorly lit bookstore cum café along a remote country road. The worn sign out front said “READ & FEED”. The parking lot was empty, weed-choked; he thought the shop abandoned at first. Drenched, he pushed against the front door and found it locked, welcome bells still attached to the top jingling slightly.
“I’m coming,” called a far-off voice. A short, grizzled looking individual appeared at the door promptly. “Yes?” the shop keeper remarked. Drew indicated that he wanted to browse the shop until the storm passed. The old hobbit nodded, unlocking the door for the soaking wet man.
The shop was warm, stifling almost, filled with the aroma of yellowed papers and burnt coffee. “Me-oooow!” shrieked a black cat, as Drew stumbled across its tail. The shop keeper shooed the hissing animal to a back corner of the room. Rows and rows of bookshelves, haphazardly filled, created a maze-like feel to the room. There was a small woodstove centered in the space, flanked by mismatched leather high backs.
“May I?” Drew asked, gesturing towards the cozy arrangement. “Let me fetch you a towel first,” remarked his host.
Drew waited patiently, wandering among the dusty stacks of long-forgotten books. He ran his fingers down the spines of several leather-bound first editions and shuddered with pleasure. The shopkeep was suddenly upon him and Drew started with a loud “Oh!” He smiled kindly at the poor wretch who handed him a towel. “I see you like exploring,” was the reply. “You ought to go look over there.”
Drew turned his head to follow where the shopkeep was pointing. In the far corner opposite of where the hissing cat had fled, there was a jukebox. It was marvelously restored – cherry red and chrome shining almost too brightly to look at. “It’s beautiful,” Drew sighed. The shopkeep smiled ever so slightly. “Go ahead. Check it out.” To Drew’s amazement, the machine was stocked with virtually all of the songs of his youth and even some from his older years. He reached out and stroked it and felt an electric shock race up his arm. Curiously, there was no coin slot.
“How does it work?” he asked. “Simply choose what you want to hear and it will play,” the shopkeep stated and then retreated. Drew was excited by this challenge – to pick the perfect starting song. In My Darkest Hour. Megadeath. A song he hadn’t thought about in years, and yet it seemed so right given the state of his adult relationships. He gently pressed the buttons to call forward the record. As the record dropped and then began to play, Drew felt another subtle jolt race through his body. It surprised him, but he relaxed soon enough, settling into one of the chairs by the stove to enjoy the song.
When the song ended, Drew rose again to make another selection. This time he chose Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. He was feeling exhilarated and wanted to sing along. Again, once the music rose out of the machine, Drew was electrified. He felt as if he were floating over the floor as he turned to go back to the cozy chair. The shopkeep was nowhere to be seen. Drew sang with feeling, full of vibrato. He wasn’t ashamed when he hit several offkey notes. The black cat seemed to enjoy the show, as it began circling his legs.
As the song dwindled to its end, Drew got up and wandered among the books again. He found that he was having trouble focusing on the lettering. A gentle throbbing set upon his temples. He made his way back to the jukebox. He caught a glimpse of an REM record and found himself pawing frantically at the buttons. It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. Except Drew didn’t feel fine. His head spun, stomach churned, knees buckled underneath him. He caught himself on the machine.
Drew heard footsteps behind him and swung around wildly. A tall, lithe androgynous creature – the facial features were so spectacular that describing it as human seem in poor taste – stood silently before him. “You…” Drew began. The thing smiled eerily, thin lips pulling back to reveal sparkling teeth. “Thank you, patron. I trust you have enjoyed your visit.” Drew’s eyes darted wildly to the jukebox. He found that it was dark, rusted and silent. “Simply choose what you want to hear and it will play…” Drew repeated. The creature nodded its head. “For a small fee.”
Drew began to back towards the front door. “A fee… What exactly?” The creature advanced towards him, wringing its hands. “A trifle really. Nothing you absolutely need.” Drew stumbled into the door causing the bells to clang. “I don’t have anything to give you.” The creature laughed, a horrible hissing laugh. “I already got what I wanted. A wisp of soul with each glance, each touch, each sound overheard…” It gestured towards to blackened box in the corner. It hit Drew then – the emptiness, the complete void in his chest – and he grasped desperately at the door handle to make his escape. He rushed out towards his Harley. He found it surrounded by waist-high grasses. This stunned him momentarily, but he still found himself turning to look back from where he’d come. As far as the eye could see, a field stretched out towards the horizon. No evidence of a store, a parking lot, or even puddles from the storm. Gone. It was all gone.
Drew climbed onto his bike, took a deep breath, and pulled onto the road.
Truth was that Drew had the heart of a nervous, sensitive poet. He all too often wore his heart on his sleeve, only to have it ripped off. People assumed he bedded many of the women who pined after him, but they scared him shitless. They were best to be avoided in his book. He wasn’t into heavy drinking in seedy bars that blasted country music or hunting on the weekends with his brother in law. He didn’t have the stomach for either. Instead, he spent his time off riding his Harley around the countryside, looking for a quiet open field to read or sketch in his notebook undisturbed. He also had a weakness for second-hand bookstores.
It was a sudden downpour that forced Drew off the road and into the poorly lit bookstore cum café along a remote country road. The worn sign out front said “READ & FEED”. The parking lot was empty, weed-choked; he thought the shop abandoned at first. Drenched, he pushed against the front door and found it locked, welcome bells still attached to the top jingling slightly.
“I’m coming,” called a far-off voice. A short, grizzled looking individual appeared at the door promptly. “Yes?” the shop keeper remarked. Drew indicated that he wanted to browse the shop until the storm passed. The old hobbit nodded, unlocking the door for the soaking wet man.
The shop was warm, stifling almost, filled with the aroma of yellowed papers and burnt coffee. “Me-oooow!” shrieked a black cat, as Drew stumbled across its tail. The shop keeper shooed the hissing animal to a back corner of the room. Rows and rows of bookshelves, haphazardly filled, created a maze-like feel to the room. There was a small woodstove centered in the space, flanked by mismatched leather high backs.
“May I?” Drew asked, gesturing towards the cozy arrangement. “Let me fetch you a towel first,” remarked his host.
Drew waited patiently, wandering among the dusty stacks of long-forgotten books. He ran his fingers down the spines of several leather-bound first editions and shuddered with pleasure. The shopkeep was suddenly upon him and Drew started with a loud “Oh!” He smiled kindly at the poor wretch who handed him a towel. “I see you like exploring,” was the reply. “You ought to go look over there.”
Drew turned his head to follow where the shopkeep was pointing. In the far corner opposite of where the hissing cat had fled, there was a jukebox. It was marvelously restored – cherry red and chrome shining almost too brightly to look at. “It’s beautiful,” Drew sighed. The shopkeep smiled ever so slightly. “Go ahead. Check it out.” To Drew’s amazement, the machine was stocked with virtually all of the songs of his youth and even some from his older years. He reached out and stroked it and felt an electric shock race up his arm. Curiously, there was no coin slot.
“How does it work?” he asked. “Simply choose what you want to hear and it will play,” the shopkeep stated and then retreated. Drew was excited by this challenge – to pick the perfect starting song. In My Darkest Hour. Megadeath. A song he hadn’t thought about in years, and yet it seemed so right given the state of his adult relationships. He gently pressed the buttons to call forward the record. As the record dropped and then began to play, Drew felt another subtle jolt race through his body. It surprised him, but he relaxed soon enough, settling into one of the chairs by the stove to enjoy the song.
When the song ended, Drew rose again to make another selection. This time he chose Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. He was feeling exhilarated and wanted to sing along. Again, once the music rose out of the machine, Drew was electrified. He felt as if he were floating over the floor as he turned to go back to the cozy chair. The shopkeep was nowhere to be seen. Drew sang with feeling, full of vibrato. He wasn’t ashamed when he hit several offkey notes. The black cat seemed to enjoy the show, as it began circling his legs.
As the song dwindled to its end, Drew got up and wandered among the books again. He found that he was having trouble focusing on the lettering. A gentle throbbing set upon his temples. He made his way back to the jukebox. He caught a glimpse of an REM record and found himself pawing frantically at the buttons. It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. Except Drew didn’t feel fine. His head spun, stomach churned, knees buckled underneath him. He caught himself on the machine.
Drew heard footsteps behind him and swung around wildly. A tall, lithe androgynous creature – the facial features were so spectacular that describing it as human seem in poor taste – stood silently before him. “You…” Drew began. The thing smiled eerily, thin lips pulling back to reveal sparkling teeth. “Thank you, patron. I trust you have enjoyed your visit.” Drew’s eyes darted wildly to the jukebox. He found that it was dark, rusted and silent. “Simply choose what you want to hear and it will play…” Drew repeated. The creature nodded its head. “For a small fee.”
Drew began to back towards the front door. “A fee… What exactly?” The creature advanced towards him, wringing its hands. “A trifle really. Nothing you absolutely need.” Drew stumbled into the door causing the bells to clang. “I don’t have anything to give you.” The creature laughed, a horrible hissing laugh. “I already got what I wanted. A wisp of soul with each glance, each touch, each sound overheard…” It gestured towards to blackened box in the corner. It hit Drew then – the emptiness, the complete void in his chest – and he grasped desperately at the door handle to make his escape. He rushed out towards his Harley. He found it surrounded by waist-high grasses. This stunned him momentarily, but he still found himself turning to look back from where he’d come. As far as the eye could see, a field stretched out towards the horizon. No evidence of a store, a parking lot, or even puddles from the storm. Gone. It was all gone.
Drew climbed onto his bike, took a deep breath, and pulled onto the road.
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