Chapter 3

Genevieve wrapped herself in a scarf, zipping up her bomber jacket up to the neck, preparing to set out on the town.

It was a brisk day outside, the wind nipped at Genevieve's cheeks as she nestled as far into her scarf as it would allow. The streets were empty. It was calm and silent, and Genevieve enjoyed her solitude as she walked. The shop windows were dark, and as she walked past, Genevieve gazed into them, taking a peak at her reflection. The bags under her eyes had gotten darker since she had last checked, her skin paler, a bit more dry. Her face looked bare, her hair unkempt.

As she walked, her breath turned into small clouds, falling apart with each inhale. The sun was out and shining, yet the air was crisp enough to make her fingers go numb. She was exploring the town, but in her heart, she knew where she was going. The bridge. Sooner or later, she was going to have to venture into the forest.

As Genevieve trekked deeper and deeper into the town, it almost felt like her feet were taking her where she needed to go. Her head was on a swivel, her brown eyes hungrily catching every detail of every storefront. One store in particular caught her eye. At the very border of the town, far from the centre Genevieve had wandered in from, a small store stood on the corner of the block. The doorway was a large arch, drowning the door itself. It was ornate, delicately carved figures of men poked out of the frame, animals danced around large floral designs. It was painted in an array of vivid colour, creating a scene resembling a Greek myth. A few feet into the arch was a modern glass door, nowhere near as daunting as its introduction. The store was lit up and Genevieve approached the door to observe. On it were attached several signs. A small red "OPEN" sign was wedged into the door handle. To the top of the door was a large neon sign that read "Amos's Books, Antiques, and Taxidermy." Right below that was a makeshift whiteboard sign that listed the store hours.

The store was clearly open and Genevieve decided to go in, curious. As she pushed open the door, the "OPEN" sign clattered to the floor, flipping softly onto the carpeted portion of the hardwood floor. Genevieve followed the sign onto the carpet, picking it up and placing it on the CD rack next to her.

"Hello?" She called.

Genevieve wandered in search of another patron or the owner of the shop. The floor beneath her heaved under the carpet, exhaling with each of her steps, groaning as she moved along it.

The store was littered with unpacked boxes of records and CD's. The bookshelves were floor to ceiling, each filled to the brim with books. Genevieve looked closely at the spines of the books. This was the most peculiar collection of reading materials. They ranged from the expected classics and chick lit to the understandable tutorials on taxidermy all the way to medical texts from the 1800's. Journals of people long dead that Genevieve couldn't imagine how the shop had come into possession of, both famous and random, popped up on the shelves. A collection of French fashion magazines from the 90's, pages worn and spines well loved, a collection of Playboys and a few National Geographic's, TV catalogues and VCR player instruction manuals were only the tip of the iceberg of the random, retro, and forgotten media Genevieve had discovered in the shop. She was amazed, with each step she took she was unravelling an entire new era of literary history. She ran her fingers gently along the edges of the shelves, glancing behind her at the mystical collection she was leaving behind. Her hand suddenly ran onto something furry.

Genevieve looked at her hand; spying a small rodent, she jerked her hand away. She looked up, startled. The book world had ended, she had stepped into "Amos's taxidermy." It was a sight she could not get enough of. Genevieve was unsure if she thought it was beautiful or concerning, but regardless, she felt mild unease. Shelves and shelves of animals of various sizes stood before her. Rodents, dogs, cats, deer, wolves, foxes, eagles, and even a rhinoceros were a part of the collection. Genevieve thought herself a visitor of a silent zoo.

"Hello. Are you admiring the ark?"

Startled again, Genevieve jumped quickly to face the voice, face planting directly into the stranger's chest and staggering backwards, only to trip on the hoof of a taxidermied deer and fall on the floor.

He chuckled and stretched his hand out to Genevieve. She grabbed onto it, pulling herself up shakily.

"Sorry… hi, hi. I'm just looking around." Genevieve stuttered.

"No worries." The man crossed his arms. "Finding everything ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. It is quite the collection." Genevieve turned warily to look into the sea of dead eyes behind her.

"Glad somebody can appreciate it. This collection is the fruit of many years of labour. The oldest thing in here is an antique chair from the 1860's. Been holding on to that thing since my dad died."

Genevieve nodded awkwardly, side stepping back and forth.

"Anyways, Amos. I'm the proud owner of this humble domain." Amos did a curtsy, gesturing at the shelves around them. "And who might you be, anxious traveller?"

"Anxious traveller?" She shook her head lightly. "My name is Genevieve."

Amos stood straight up. "Not from around here I take it? I know most of the faces that walk into my shop."

He turned and began walking to the front of the store.

"I just got here yesterday. I'm staying over at the Courtyard."

Genevieve followed him down the aisle.

"Just passing through?" He asked.

"Something like that." She looked around, observing the store as she walked through it again.

"Business or pleasure. For most people it's a bit of both." Amos turned and gave her a small smile before continuing on down the aisle.

"It's definitely a bit of both. I'm not sure. It is a nice town. I think I could get comfortable."

As they walked, Genevieve finally had a chance to observe the man she had been conversing with. Amos looked about 46. He was a tall, fit man, such that Genevieve had to tilt her head upwards slightly to look him full in the face. He had broad shoulders and across them, peeking out from under his loose V-neck t shirt was a tribal tattoo Genevieve assumed stretched down his back. He had on work jeans that were a washed out light blue from age. He looked casual yet put together in a rough around the edges kind of way and when he turned to look at her, she noticed a line of stubble around his chin and above his lip. He had dark eyes that sat deep on his face under thick eyebrows. He had an air of confidence about him. He seemed kind and mature, like he had been in Lyderwood for a long time.

"So, what brought you to Lyderwood? Is it a hub for…" Genevieve waved around her. "Antique collections?"

They approached the front of the store and Genevieve felt the warm sunlight from the glass door flooding into the room.

"It seems to be warming up." She said softly.

There was a counter to the right of the door, and Amos slipped behind it, grunting as he sat heavily onto a wooden chair.

"This is the famous antique chair. It doesn't look its value but any collector worth his salt would be willing to spend at least fifty grand on it. Anyways, you were saying? How'd I come to be in Lyderwood? Hm…"

He thought for a moment, leaning his arm on the counter in front of him. He stared into the bookshelf across from him, his eyes glazing over. Genevieve stood awkwardly, peering into his face and following his gaze in an attempt to see what he was so focused on. Amos snapped out of his trance, jumping up and motioning at the piles of CD's and tapes in baskets on the floor.

"Please, please. Sit."

Genevieve hesitated, before gingerly setting herself down on the baskets. Amos sat back down, kicking his feet onto the counter.

"How did I come to Lyderwood? I've never been asked that anymore. Well, I've been here since I was 36, almost ten years now. I kind of just drifted in and never left. I was supposed to just be passing through on my way to an antique collection, but the town had such an energy. It felt like the perfect place to set up shop. Not that I get many customers around here but I never lack for company. I've seen dozens of Courtyard residents pass through the town in my day. I've become a friend to many, a way to pass time to others. The shop has always been my safe haven wherever I was, but something about the landscape of Lyderwood makes 'Amos's Books, Antiques, and Taxidermy' fit right in. How about you? What brings you to these parts? What business, what pleasure?"

Now it was Genevieve's turn to stare off into space while her companion awaited a response. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly backtracked, sighing and saying, "Just same as everyone else, I guess."

There was a silence as the sun continued to fill the room up with warmth. Genevieve stood, the CD's clattered as she moved.

"Well, I've got to go. There's a few more places in town I wanted to check out before I head back. Thank you."

Genevieve went to the door and Amos called out to her.

"Stop by again soon! I found a few interesting books at an online auction. Hopefully they'll come in a few days. I think you would find them interesting."

"How would you know if I find them interesting or not?" Genevieve turned back, curious.

"Hmm. Not sure, there's just… an energy about you."

Genevieve nodded, walking out of the door. On her way out, she stopped to admire the arch again. It really was a mesmerising piece of architecture.