The Beacon: Prologue (4)
Episode 4: "Sticky Fingers"
The bell over the door tinkled, welcoming another potential customer. With several people already walking its aisles, Shipton’s General Store bustled with more activity than a typical lazy, late-spring afternoon. As its name suggested, the store carried a variety of dry goods, from clothing to carpenter’s nails to candlesticks to candy and everything in between. Its proprietor, Sullevan Mooney, a fortyish man dressed in his customary black shirt and pants covered with a long white apron, stood behind the counter waiting on a short line of shoppers queued up to pay for their items.
The patron who stepped through the door was Madame Amulee Parado, wife of Councilman Parado, a woman whose frequent purchases for her home and large family were Mooney’s bread and butter. The beautiful daughter of a nearly destitute tailor in Palisade, she had caught the eye of the future Councilman on a youthful trip to visit relatives. He had returned to Shipton with her as his bride—or so the story was told. Seeing her, the proprietor smiled. Today will surely be a profitable one. He called out, “Good afternoon, ma’am! I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
She wore an expensive white dress with a matching hat and parasol. She had so perfected her gait that she seemed to glide effortlessly about the store. She called back, “I’m in no hurry, Sully. While you take care of your other customers, I’ll do a bit of looking.”
That pleased Sully, knowing she often bought more when “just browsing” the aisles. He smiled at the customer before him, a thin, aged seamstress and old maid, Olyve Endime. She peered up at him uncertainly, holding out a small envelope to him. “Is this pins?” she asked.
“Why, yes, Miss Endime,” he said, pointing to the front of the envelope. “Says ‘Pins, 50 Count, 1 Penny’ right here on the front.”
She smiled, showing a few gaps in her teeth. “I’m so glad. You see, I had to guess. I can’t read writing that small anymore.” Opening a small change purse, she pulled out a coin and handed it to Sully, who grinned.
“You are very generous, Miss Endime,” he said. “You have given me a ten-penny piece.”
“Oh, dear,” she said, flustered. “I get them confused all the time. They are almost the same size, you know.” She fished again in her purse and pulled out another coin. “Did I get the right one this time?”
“Why, yes, you did!” Sully said enthusiastically, exchanging the copper coin for the brass penny and dropping it in the till. “May I help you in any other way?”
“No, thanks! I must hurry home with these pins to finish a pattern I’ve been laying out. You can’t do that without pins!” She tottered toward the door.
“No, indeed,” Sully said, calling after her. “Have a good day!”
His eyes swept the store in a practiced sequence, noting where all the customers stood, considering if any of them needed his assistance. At a counter across the aisle, Amulee Parado stood at a glass case, holding a square of fine lace in her hand, and from the tilt of her head, Sully could tell she admired its intricate design. Anticipating she might buy it, he turned with a genuine smile to the next person in line. “Well, hello there, young Mister Boxtur! Are you still building that shed behind your mother's house?”
“Aye, Sully, and you know it,” grunted a short, broad-shouldered man just shy of twenty years old. He placed a bag of nails, two hinges, and a latch on the counter. “Once I get the door put together, the blasted thing will be finished, and I can move on to something else. I’m a fair hand with wood, you know, but a shed is a shed. It’s hard to get excited about working on a shed.”
“Yes, but sheds are necessary things,” said Sully. “I’m sure your mother will be pleased to have it. Your total is a tenner and three.”
“How about a tenner even, and I chop ten logs out back before I head home?” Boxtur countered, knowing Sully often grumbled about doing chores after a long day of work.
“Hmm.” Sully twisted one side of his handlebar mustache, as he often did when thinking. “A tenner, five logs, and fetch a pail of water from the well, and you have a deal.”
“Deal!” said the young man, handing over his coin and pocketing his purchases in his blue overalls’ pockets. “Is your ax still by the back door?”
Sully nodded. “So is the pail. Put the water up on the kitchen counter once you fetch it. Thank you, Creg!”
“My pleasure, Sully! Have a good day!” He left the store whistling.
The proprietor glanced up, registering that Amulee had moved from the lace to a display of fine porcelain dinnerware. His heart leaped in the hope she would purchase the set. If she did, he could take his wife on that trip to the coast that he had promised her years ago. Everyone knew he could use a vacation. He grinned in anticipation.
“You are in a fine mood today, Sully,” said the last person in line, a plump, rosy-cheeked matron of three-score years. “Sales have been good today, I reckon.”
“Good afternoon, Madame Willsen!” Sully said. “Not bad, all things considered. But at least I won’t have to chop wood tonight.”
“A well-struck bargain, then,” she answered. “I’m thankful that my dear Andel can still swing an ax with vigor, and he’s eight years older than me! He’s a handy man to have around.”
“He takes good care of you, ma’am,” agreed Sully. “What can I do for you today?” He thought he knew her purpose for visiting the store today, but he had to ask.
“I came to see if my special order arrived,” she said, hope rising in her eyes.
“I hate to disappoint you, ma’am, but it has still not come in,” he said. He raised a hand to forestall her reply. “I know what it means to you, but I am powerless to speed the delivery. I don’t expect it for another week yet. Goods from Palisade sometimes take longer than you expect. They’re not as efficient as they make themselves out to be, if you asked me.”
“I understand, Sully,” she said, her shoulders slumped. “I’ll come again next week.”
As she turned for the door, a ripple of distortion like a building ocean wave rolled through the far wall of the store toward the checkout counter. Sully started, eyes growing wide, and said, “What is that? Get down, ladies!” Seeing the approaching wave, most of the women in the store and Sully fell to the floor, a few of them scrambling to place themselves behind counters or shelves, some covering their heads with their hands. A few screamed shrilly, one of them sprinting for the door. The relentless wave passed silently through them, exiting out the near wall, leaving no obvious damage or even a hint of its passage in its wake.
Once sure it had gone, the shopkeeper pulled himself to his feet, inspecting his customers and his store with his customary sweep of the space. Except for the ladies on the floor, nothing seemed amiss. “Is everyone all right?” At his words, the women stirred and stood, most talking loudly and fast, wanting some answers. “Ladies, please! Calm down!” Sully shouted over the clamor. “All is well! Everyone’s fine!”
The women looked at him and each other, realizing the proprietor was correct. They were all unharmed, and the store and its merchandise were undamaged. Whatever that strange distortion had been, it had left without leaving a mark. Relief replaced the fear on their faces.
One young woman, a newlywed of a few months, marched up to Sully, fists on her hips. “I am not amused, Sully! That was a dirty trick to play on us!”
Sully was aghast. “I had nothing to do with that! I am as baffled as you about it!”
“Well, this is your store,” she retorted, red-faced, “and it is your responsibility to make sure we’re safe when we shop here! You shouldn’t let things like this happen! Ever!”
“But Alayse,” Sully said, beginning to feel anger building in his belly, “I told you, I was just as surprised as you. Besides, what could I have done?”
“Men!” Alayse huffed. “You’re all the same! You act all big and tough, and then when danger comes, you hide like women and make excuses!” Stepping forward, she slapped the shopkeeper soundly. “You’re pitiful!” she shouted in his face and stalked out, the doorbell clanging wildly.
Sully stood immobile, staring at her back and then at the door as it swung closed. His hand involuntarily lifted to his flaming cheek, his face proclaiming he had no idea what had just happened and why. Suddenly, he blushed, realizing the women remaining in his store were all watching him. They had all witnessed his embarrassment. He straightened to his full height and took a deep breath to recapture a few shreds of his dignity.
Hearing a cackling sound near his elbow, he turned and saw that old Madame Willsen had not made it out of the store before the distortion passed through, and she was laughing heartily. At first, he took offense, thinking her amusement came at his expense, but then he noticed that of all the women, she alone still looked through the windows at the stiff back of the retreating Alayse. She shook her head and said, “I knew the wanton tart would find that Verdron to be a lout! Mark my words, one of ’em will be dead by the other’s hand before the year’s out!”
“If we’re lucky, she’s headed to do that right now!” said one of the ladies across the room, and the rest of them joined in the laughter.
As the snickering died down, Madame Willsen said loudly, “That would cover your trail, now, wouldn’t it, Nellie?”
Immediately, the room was silent, all eyes now fixed on a pretty, dark-haired woman in her early thirties, the wife of the town’s schoolmaster. Her face flushed a deep pink at first, and then she burst out in a fit of uncontrollable giggling. After a few moments, she managed to say, “Well, it would cover one of my trails!” The ladies howled hysterically.
Sully’s face flared red again, not knowing what to say or do. He fell back on his methodical sweep around the store, noticing that Amulee Parado had not joined the other women in their scandalous banter. She had returned to perusing the counters, cases, and shelves, methodically making her way down the side aisle along the store’s left-hand wall, where he displayed some of his finest merchandise. Seeing that she had put the scare behind her and was calmly shopping again gave him a sense that things were returning to normal, helping him relax. She held out a colorful scarf to the light shining through the window, inspecting the pattern.
The doorbell tinkled, drawing his attention away, but it was only Madame Willsen finally exiting the store. Two other ladies looked to be headed out as well, heads together, occasionally looking over their shoulders at the still giggling Nellie. It crossed Sully’s mind that they were intent on spreading this new gossip to their friends, or perhaps they suspected Nellie’s other “trails” led to their own husbands. Well, he thought, I can hardly blame them. She’s very pretty and well put together. Even her giggling like a schoolgirl is quite charming.
He had taken a step toward her when a sudden movement caught his eye. Turning, he watched Amulee Parado intently. He thought she had dropped something, but she made no move to pick it up. In the instant that he had seen the movement, his mind identified the object as something made of glass. He had distinctly seen a flash like sunlight glinting off a mirror, but there had been no sound of anything striking the floor, no crash of shattering glass.
The anomaly roused his suspicions. Here’s a mystery no shopkeeper worth his apron would not leap to investigate. Moving casually in her direction, he straightened goods on a shelf here and there, tidying a display but always keeping one eye on Amulee. He observed her as she inspected a silver spoon, one of a set of serving utensils worth half a pound and selling for another quarter-pound more. From Sully’s vantage point, she appeared to return it to the shelf, but he could not be sure. He decided to move into her aisle and perhaps confront her.
Another giggle from Nellie distracted him again. “Can I be of service to you, Nellie?” he asked, immediately regretting his choice of words. This set her off into another outburst of laughter, but after a minute, she said, “Maybe someday I will require your services, Sully, but not today. I just remembered I am almost late for an engagement I don’t want to miss!” She giggled again and hurried out the door, leaving Sully red-faced again.
He glanced about to see who had witnessed his latest humiliation, but only he and Amulee remained in the store, and she had been paying no attention to the others. She had moved on to examine a display of hairpins Sully had put out the evening before, some made of expensive ivory, ebony, and crystal. As he watched, Amulee deftly picked up two pins, sliding one up her sleeve while looking at the other, then returning it to the display. She stepped to another shelf containing combs and brushes.
Sully moved quickly toward her. “Madame Parado! I cannot believe you would steal from me!” he said in an injured tone.
Her head whipped toward him, eyes flaming with denial and indignation. She imperiously straightened to her full height. “You accuse me of stealing! How absurd!”
“I saw you slip that hairpin up your sleeve, ma’am! I saw it with my own eyes. In fact, I was watching you for it!”
Amulee stamped her foot. “You go too far, Sully! My husband will be furious when he hears of this reckless accusation!”
“Reckless?” Sully roared, his face flushing. “I caught you red-handed!”
“I swear I have nothing up my sleeve!” she returned just as hotly. “I would swear it before the magistrate!”
“Then show me!” he challenged. “Unbutton your sleeve—on your left arm!”
“Certainly!” She turned to lean her parasol against a shelf, then unfastened several of the tiny white buttons that ran up the outside of her left forearm. After a moment, once all the buttons were undone to her elbow, she triumphantly peeled back the sleeve. Nothing fell out.
“But . . . but,” Sully stammered, “but I saw you slide it in there.” His eyes darted about, trying to make sense of what he had seen.
“You saw nothing of the sort,” Amulee said, an edge to her voice. “You just can’t accuse your best customers like that.” An implied threat hung in the air between them.
Still bewildered, Sully mumbled, “I’m sorry, Madame Parado! I must be seeing things. Please accept my apology.”
As he said it, another rolling distortion passed through them toward the west. They both blinked and looked around uncertainly as if they had woken from a daydream. Amulee’s eyes widened, and her cheeks reddened. She stole a glance at her parasol.
“Madame, I apologize deeply for my accusation,” Sully was saying to her, even bowing slightly toward her. “I don’t know why I was even suspicious of you.”
Amulee swallowed and looked sheepishly up at him. “No, Sully, I am the one who must apologize. I was stealing from you—and not just a hairpin.”
“What?” exclaimed Sully, now totally flummoxed. “You were? How? Why?”
She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what came over me! That ripple thing came through, and you were distracted with all those snickering women. I just thought that while all that was happening, you’d never know if I nicked this or that. It would be so easy. I immediately remembered a dozen ways to take things without anyone noticing.”
Sully was astounded. “You stole from me?” He looked around and realized he probably would not have noticed for hours or days if Amulee’s thieving had gone unobserved. Sully’s eyes ran over her white dress, but he could see no place for her to hide anything.
She saw the question in his eyes. “Where did I hide what I stole? Look in the parasol.”
He stepped over to the white umbrella leaning against the shelf. It was fully closed, but he suddenly recalled it had been slightly open when he had walked toward her, accusation on his lips. He pulled the tip of one rib, and the parasol gaped open, revealing a bright, colorful scarf, a small crystal salt shaker, a silver spoon, and an ebony hairpin. He stared at her uncomprehendingly. “I saw you put the hairpin up your sleeve!”
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I did. When you came up, I just straightened my arm, and the hairpin fell into the parasol. The sound was muffled by the scarf and your bellowing at me.”
“Madame, I do not bellow!” Sully protested.
She gave him a small, apologetic smile. “You did then. I don’t think you were quite yourself either.”
“Too true,” he said, returning a rueful grin. “After that ‘ripple thing,’ as you called it, passed through, we all acted strangely.”
“Can we blame all this on that ripple thing?” she asked. “I am not willing to do so. I will pay for these things and buy the pepper shaker and the whole serving utensils set. Will that suffice?”
“Indeed, Madame,” Sully said eagerly, realizing her guilt would turn this embarrassing day profitable. “I will never mention this again. We’ll just pick up those other things on the way to the front counter.”
As they walked, now silent, they noticed a clamor coming from the street and people rushing past the front windows toward the town center. A look of concern crossed the proprietor’s face. “I wonder what’s going on?”
A note:
The residents of Shipton griped about the lengthy shipping times of goods from Palisade, but the fact was that the town was small and about as far west as one could live and still be subject to Lorens III. In addition, as Pietro the Singing Tinker complained, the South Road was notorious for its disrepair, further slowing the flow of goods between the capital and the few frontier towns in the kingdom’s southwest. The faster route was to send the goods by barge or boat down the White River to Kingsport, across by sea to Wesfair, and then by wagon north to Shipton. However, the cost was prohibitive, so the citizens of Shipton contented themselves with complaining about shipping times and costs and waited for their packages to arrive.
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Oh, the scandal!!