The temperature inside the store was refreshing; the air outside was hot and dry. If they’d been in Louisiana, they would’ve been sweating profusely, but in Arizona, there was little humidity.
Myra seemed to know where she was going. She led Sara past several rows of books and about halfway down to a huge section on Native Americans. She pulled three from the shelf and sat next to her in one of the soft leather reading chairs. “Alright, if you wanna be entertained, these are good, but don’t trust what’s in them,” she said. “They have some of the facts right, but not many.”
Sara left two of the books resting on her lap and thumbed through the third one. There were a lot of stimulating and colorful pictures. “Was this taken around here?”
Myra glanced at the picture and winced. “According to the author, it was.”
“But?”
“That’s somewhere up in Washington, in Quileute territory.”
“You mean the tribe in the ‘Twilight’ books? I didn’t know it was a real tribe!”
She made a face. “Oh, yes. Unfortunately, some of the legends, created by the author, are not. To my knowledge, there’s no such thing as ‘the cold ones’, nor has there ever been, for that fact. That’s not to say there’s no such thing as vampires, but they’ve never been called that. I suppose it might come from myths of their cold skin. I can’t say for sure.”
“You’ve never met a vampire, have you?”
“Sara!” Myra snorted. “Get real – girl!” she laughed. That didn’t answer her question, but Myra wouldn’t say any more on the subject.
“Myra,” she drew out, “I don’t want a bunch of books full of lies!”
She pressed her lips into a thin line and stared at Sara, debating how much to tell her. She sighed. “There’s only one book that’ll do that.”
“And?”
Jared was right about her. She doesn’t give up. “It’s no longer in print, at least it shouldn’t be.” She anxiously glanced around as if Jared might leap out from behind one of the other bookshelves. “It was written a long time ago,” she said, cautiously. “I don’t think Jared would approve of you reading it.” She stood and glanced at some other books in the Native American section.
Great! Another brick wall. “Why not?”
“It never should’ve been printed, but it was.” She handed her a couple more books. “I’m sure you can find something in these to satisfy your curiosity.” But they’re not what you’re looking for. This is so unfair to Sara! It’s her future. It’s her life!
Sara groaned inwardly. I’m not settling for fairy tales. “If it’s not in print, how much harm could it do? Why doesn’t he want me to read it? Come on, Myra! Please, tell me what’s in it!” She’d sparked Sara’s curiosity about this mysterious book.
She forced the air from her lungs and glared at a man behind them, who looked remarkably like Jared. “More than should be,” she said curtly.
The man cleared his throat and pretended to organize the books, at the end of the aisle.
“Nosey bastard,” Myra said under her breath. She handed her a couple more books. Sara’s collection was growing, book upon book, a tower of lies. Not what she needed! Myra did a little dance. “In the meantime, scan through these. Some of the information is right, but again, not all of it. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna make a quick trip to the restroom.” She glowered at the man as she passed him.
Sara waited until she was out of earshot. She rose on her tiptoes and watched until Myra disappeared behind the restroom door. She put her stack of books on a chair and hurried to the end of the aisle. Her gut told her the strange man, could help her more than Myra was willing to.
“Excuse me,” she said and softly cleared her throat.
He peered at her through narrowed eyes, looked her up and down and smirked. “Can I help you?”
Sara nervously glanced at the restroom. “I hope so. I don’t have a lotta time before my friend comes back. Do you have anything about the true legends of the Navajo people? Perhaps a book that’s out of print?”
He eyed her suspiciously and glanced at the restroom. “Wasn’t that Myra Thundercloud you were with? George Thundercloud’s granddaughter?”
She frowned. George… Thundercloud? Could it be? Sara didn’t know who he was, and she didn’t have time for guessing games. Either he would help her or he wouldn’t. “Yes,” she said brusquely. He arched an eyebrow and continued scrutinizing her. Sara nervously glanced at the restroom doors, expecting Myra to come bursting through them any second.
“Do you wanna know about the Navajo or them?” he said and motioned with his head.
She sighed in exasperation. “Navajo, of course!” Will you get on with it? Her nerves were ready to snap.
“Then I can’t help you,” he snorted derisively. “If you wanna know about them,” he motioned with his head, again, “that’s a different story.”
“Alright! Fine! Whatever! But hurry, I don’t want her to know!”
“Are you sure you wanna do this? They get upset when people find out their… secrets.”
Sara’s frown deepened. Again she glanced at the restroom. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. Do you or don’t you know of such a book?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, “but it comes with a curse. It was written by George Thundercloud.”
Her eyebrows shot up. It sounded as stupid as her asking Myra about vampires. Clearly, the man was trying to make a sale. She didn’t believe in curses. Did she? “Did you say it was written by George Thundercloud?” She was beginning to make the connection. No wonder Jared wanted this kept from me. After what she’d learned, about Jared’s dream and his grandfather, she reasoned if anyone could give her answers, it would be his grandfather. But, if the man in the hospital was George Thundercloud, how could she get answers from a dying man, in a coma?
“Yes. George Washington Thomas Thundercloud. Tom Thundercloud’s father. But like I said, the book comes with a curse.”
Sara shook her head. The man is being more ridiculous than I am. Werewolves? Vampires? Curses? Honestly, Sara! Next, he’ll try to sell you the heart of the ocean! “I don’t give a damn about stories or curses! I don’t believe in them, and I’m not superstitious!”
He arched an eyebrow. “I see.”
“Wait!” she said and grabbed his wrist. “Please, I need a copy of the book!” Sara knew Myra would be back soon. In fact, she should’ve been back. Unless she was stalling. What if she called Jared? Oh, it would be just my luck. “Well?”
He glanced at his wrist and locked his dark eyes with hers. She released him. “It will cost you, and you accept full responsibility for any consequences which may arise from your reading it,” he said.
Sara let her breath out. With trembling fingers, she took out her wallet. “Fine – fine, just tell me how much.” Her heart pounded. She wiped her palms on her jeans. She felt awful about this. It felt wrong, but if she wanted to find out what was going on, and what it had to do with Jared, she had to do it.
The man’s eyebrows shot up. “A hundred dollars.”
“What?” Her lips parted. “A hundred dollars? For one book? Are you out of your mind?”
“If you want it that’s my price.”
Sara watched him until he was near to the end of the aisle. Nervously she glanced one last time at the restroom. “Fine!”
He stopped and slowly turned. “Are you sure?” he smirked.
“Yes!” she groaned and handed him the money. He turned to leave. “Wait! What about my book?”
“I’ll have to get it for you. It’s in the store room.”
“Alright, just wait a minute!” She rushed back to her pile of books, grabbed the first two off the top and followed him to the checkout counter.
“Did you decide on something?” Myra asked.
Sara jumped. “Yes, I did!” she gasped.
She frowned and locked eyes with the man behind the counter. She turned and grinned. “Geez Sara, chill out!”
“Your purchase comes to $45.55. Will that be cash or card?” he asked with a grin of satisfaction.
Sara tightened her jaw. You sorry thief! You’ve got a hundred dollars of my money! What do you want now - my blood? She fumbled in her purse and glanced at Myra with wide eyes. “Oh, shit!”
“What is it?” she whispered in her ear.
“I can’t find his credit card,” Sara whispered under her breath. “Go look under the car seat and see if it fell out? Oh, God, Myra! He’s gonna kill me! He’ll never trust me with it again.” She began taking things from her purse and piling them on the counter. She waited until Myra left the store. She whirled. “Get my book,” she enunciated. “And hurry up!”
He smiled condescendingly and slid the book out from an ordinary brown envelope. “Relax.”
“That’s it?” Sara gasped. “How do you justify charging me a hundred dollars for that?” She was seething. “It’s got what – fifty or a hundred pages?”
“It is - what it is. Don’t tell anyone where you got it or I’ll take it out, and the deal is off,” he added with another sly grin. “You could always find out the hard way.”
Sara snapped her teeth together. “Fine! Hide the damn thing between the other books.”
It easily fit between the pages of one of the books. He arched an eyebrow. One side of his mouth turned up. “Satisfied?”
She sighed, nodded and handed him Jared’s credit card, from her back pocket.
“You’re a sly one, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
Sara glowered at him. “Don’t you have something to do?”
He put Jared’s card in the machine and handed her the control. “Enter your PIN numbers please.”
Sara concealed the business card with her hand and keyed in the number. They waited. Nothing happened. Seconds later the card was rejected.
“Hmm.” He removed it from the machine. “There – now try it.”
Sara keyed in the numbers again, one number at a time, to be sure she hadn’t made a mistake. They waited. Again, the card was rejected.
He held it up to the light. “There’s something sticky on the strip. I’ll be right back.” He sprayed what looked like all-purpose cleaner on the card. He reached under the counter, produced a tissue, wiped the card and put it back in the machine.
Sara anxiously glanced over her shoulder. Myra was on her way back. She drummed her fingers on the countertop and waited. She quickly keyed in the PIN numbers again.
“Ah, yes,” he smiled, “it worked this time. Thank you.” He grinned and handed her Jared’s credit card and her receipt.
“It’s wet,” she grumbled.
“The alcohol will dry soon.” He glanced over her shoulder to the entrance. “If you’d rather, I can get another tissue from the back. I’m afraid I used my last one from the box.”
“Never mind!” She stuck the card and receipt into her back pocket.
“Enjoy your books,” he said. “All of them and come back soon. I’m sure I have other things that might interest you.”
Sara eyed him suspiciously and jerked the bag off the counter. “I doubt it!” she snarled.
Myra met her halfway across the store. “Did you find it?”
“Find what?” she frowned.
“Jared’s credit card! Sara, are you…?”
“Oh! That - yes,” she interjected, embarrassingly. “I forgot it was in my back pocket. Myra, don’t breathe a word of this to him,” she warned as they got back to the car.
“There’s nothing to tell. You made a mistake,” she said and backed out.
“Thanks,” Sara smiled and wrapped her arms around her secret.