Love You to Death

Chapter 3: Bullies & Bookstores

I'm so so so sorry about how late this is. I went back to school recently and it totally slipped my mind to update. I've been getting tons of homework lately and I'm honestly terrible at pre-writing so we're gonna see how often I get to updating.

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Jimmy walked down the street with his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip as he analyzed the pedestrians walking by him. Jimmy was deeply focused on discerning the profession of a heavy-set, middle-age man when he heard someone shout out his name. Jimmy whipped his head up, wondering if he was the intended recipient of the salutation.

Jimmy's eyes darted quickly around before settling on the trio of boys advancing quickly in his direction from the dark recesses of a nearby alley. Jimmy recognized the foremost as Isaac Whitman, a boy from the year above him at school.

"Hey!" shouted Isaac, "You! Bog-trotter!" Jimmy looked at Isaac, unsure of whether to stay or to run. "I got something for you," Isaac continued, now only a meter away from Jimmy. Without warning, he punched Jimmy in the face. Jimmy's head snapped down and he felt blood pouring out of his nose. Not broken, thankfully, but it still hurt like hell.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and pressing the other below his nose, Jimmy stared at Isaac in confusion. The boys laughed. "Look at 'im," Isaac scoffed, "Bloody Mick doesn't get it." Isaac leaned in conspiratorially and Jimmy took a step back, wary of Isaac's fist. "We. Don't. Want. You. Here" Isaac said slowly, enunciating each word, "Do you understand that, Irish boy?"

Jimmy said nothing. "You don't belong here," Isaac spat, staring at Jimmy with a fire raging in his eyes. "Yes," agreed the boy to Isaac's right in a high, nasal voice, "My daddy says that-" "Shut up," Isaac commanded, "No one cares what your daddy thinks." The boy opened and closed his mouth and glared at Isaac. Jimmy's brain finally kicked in and told him to run. So he ran.

Jimmy's feet blurred together in a constant rhythm and his hands knifed through the air. The three boys raced after him, shouting insults and threats. Jimmy's heart beat fast in his chest and he tried to remain calm. He knew that, if given the opportunity, the boys would probably beat him to a pulp. He looked around frantically for somewhere to hide. Isaac and his cronies were gaining on Jimmy, their longer legs eating up the sidewalk quicker than Jimmy's.

Jimmy turned a corner and slipped into the first door he saw. Jimmy slammed the door shut and sat down against it, breathing hard. He heard footsteps thud past the door and keep going. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe.

Looking around him, Jimmy realized that he was in a bookstore. It was dim and cozy, with a sort of musty, ancient quality that Jimmy immediately fell in love with. He stood up and peered around, wondering where the owner was.

Jimmy walked through rows and rows of shelves, lined with books of every shape and size. He lightly ran his fingers over them, disturbing a small cloud of dust. Back in Ireland, Jimmy had gotten his reading material from the local library or for Christmas, but he had never from a bookstore. His family didn't have that much money to spare.

But even the bookstores in Ireland couldn't compare to this one. The shelves stretched endlessly, and everywhere Jimmy turned there was another aisle. There were dozens of what looked to be first-edition hardcovers. Jimmy reverently opened a copy of The Hobbit and traced his fingers gently along the map of the Lonely Mountain, marveling at how well-preserved the book was. He heard something rustle on the other side of the shelf and quickly replaced the book.

Breathing quietly, Jimmy poked his head around the side of the shelf. He saw a pair of legs sticking out from where a panel in the ceiling had been removed. There was a thud and muffled curse before a shower of plaster dust rained down from the hole.