The Weight of The Moon

Chapter Three

Selene transported me to the long stretch of road I call my street almost immediately after she had introduced me to her one true love. I got the feeling she didn’t want to talk.

And I felt the exact same way. 

My shoulders loosened in relief when I arrived back on Earth and noticed that my mother’s car wasn’t parked nearby. I quickly put two and two together and assumed she was still at work. Good, I thought. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to see my mother’s face, trying to hide the disappointment. She was never called to see Zeus, so how would she feel about her daughter doing wrong?

Instead of going home, I decided to head to the local bookstore instead. It wasn’t three hours until I had to meet Troy, plenty of time to get a few chapters read. I was thankful that I had decided to put my book in my bag the night before, because that way, I wouldn’t have to conduct a break-in on my own house. I’d never been too reliable when it came to keeping keys safe.

I set off walking, avoiding puddles that littered the paths. Typical English weather.

It wasn’t long before I reached my favourite building in the whole of the world, not that I’d seen them all. To me, this tall, red brick building was even more beautiful than the observatory on Mount Olympus. It represented home. A quiet haven, in the middle of a busy, overcrowded street. The age-old bricks were weathered away, but the tall door stood proud in the middle of them all, welcoming anyone in from the cold. Heavily decorated displays in the two over-sized windows at either side of the door informed me that the author of the ‘book of the week’ was due to visit, to do a book signing. I could imagine the mayhem that caused in the shop; the few members of staff running about, here and there, trying to leave a good impression for the talented author. 

I stepped inside, and inhaled the soothing smell of new books and freshly ground coffee. Welcome to my home; Kirsch & Son’s Books.

I wiped the underneath of my Converse on the doormat that read ‘Welcome’, before I dared step on the wooden floorboards. I knew how hard Mr. Kirsch worked to scrub these floors at night, how hard he tried to make his father’s shop appear presentable.

Mr. Kirsch was slightly older than middle-aged, and had graying hair. He, like his father before him, loved this shop more than anything. He had spent his life growing up in the old building, from running around it as a toddler, to selling books as a teenager, to eventually managing it. And boy, did he manage it. His bookstore was perfection! Row after row of books lined the long, tall walls, and randomly placed shelves created a labyrinth-type maze. His desk, immediately opposite the entrance, was his perfect place to greet his customers with his naturally warm smile.

“Hello Selena, my dear.” He called out to me, and I walked over to him.

I sent him an equally warm smile back. “Hi Mr. Kirsch.” He rolled his eyes at this. He always insisted that I called him by his first name, Jim, but to me, Mr. Kirsch made him seem much more like a character from a book. “Got any new books in?”

He chortled from behind his thick, gray beard. “Since yesterday? Nope, deliveries don’t come as often as you do, dear.”

I let a little chuckle escape my lips. “Oh, is there anything I can do to help?” I always felt guilty about visiting the bookstore, not to buy a book, but to read. Of course, I only ever read books that I had purchased from there, but I felt as if I should hand Mr. Kirsch wads of money every time I set foot in his shop. After all, he deserved it, for all of his hard work.

“There’s a stack of books in the back that I want to put on display up front. Would you mind bringing them here? I‘m afraid my back isn‘t what it used to be.”