Giddings [✓]

Chapter 4 · A Miracle

My first impression of the place was how full it was. They utilized every inch of space they could to display the thousands of antiques they had for sale. I could easily see myself getting lost in this place for well over an hour and still be able to find new things to look at. It was the type of thrift shop where different, smaller vendors paid the place to have a little area for themselves. So each little section you peeked into felt like stepping into a completely different world.

My favorite section was steampunk-themed. They had glass cases filled with used Nikon and Canon cameras, and another with random but interesting tools. Small plastic pouches with random knick-knacks inside like cards, buttons, and small figurines were priced at $2 each. This vendor had so many small items to look at, I felt like even if I looked at it all, I’d still be missing half of what was really there. 

Upon a wooden shelf, I spotted a mini brass safe. Curious, I picked it up and examined it. Its tag labeled it as a pencil sharpener, for $15. 

A pencil sharpener? I looked at it more closely. Upon further inspection, I found the hole on its underside. The shavings would end up inside the safe, and the door to the safe opened to dispose of them. It was a neat little sharpener, but I decided against getting it because its door didn’t stay shut very well, so I worried the shavings would fall out. Not much of a safe then, was it?

I left the steampunk vendor and after wandering around some more, I found a doorway that led to another section of the shop that I hadn’t even realized existed. To me, this thrift store seemed like Mary Poppins’ bag, seemingly small on the outside and endless on the inside. 

But I knew there must be something here that I was missing. Something I needed to get much more than that brass pencil sharpener. I searched and searched the place, eyeing dishes, dolls, clocks, candies, buttons, but never finding what it was that had brought me here. 

Until. 

I squeezed past a couple of women talking to each other, and my eyes landed on a specific rectangular metal tin. It was filled to the brim with Scrabble tiles. I rushed to its side. Knelt in front of it. A sticky note read, “Scrabble Squares, 25c EA.”

It had all sorts of different Scrabble tiles; wooden ones, plastic ones, mahogany-colored ones, engraved ones, smooth ones, and even a few mini ones. But the rest didn’t matter once I saw a couple that were slightly dirtier than the rest. A Z and an I, laying on top of the rest. The same exact wood type and lettering style as my set at home. 

I snatched up the two letters, looking down at them in my hands. I knew they weren’t simply copies from another set, they couldn’t be. These were the letter’s we’d lost that one spring evening in Jane’s backyard many years ago. The letters I never thought I’d see again. And yet here they were. 

I smiled, closing my fist around them. This was why we were here. This was why we came to Giddings.