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IT WAS THE COVER OF a book.
On the illustration, a blonde girl was turning away from a curtained window. She had a terrified look on her face. A dark figure stood on the other side of the glass, looking in. The title of the book was The Watcher. It wasn’t the only book in the box. There was a stack of others that were the same size. I took several of the thin paperbacks from the box and placed them next to me on the floor.
As I worked, I noticed a familiar scent that clung to the box and its contents. It was a sweet, flowery fragrance. I recognized it right away. It was the perfume that Davey’s mother liked to wear. In fact, she had been wearing it the first time I ever saw her.
After Mom’s car crash, I spent a lot of time in Morris’s store. I would go there every day after school. Usually I hung out in the back, but sometimes I helped stock shelves. One day, in the middle of October, I was on the floor, busy organizing a shelf, when I heard the familiar ding of the front door opening.
I peeked through the shelving unit. Along with a flurry of bright orange leaves, the bottom of a fur coat trailed behind the woman that entered. Her wavy blonde hair brushed her shoulders. She looked like a movie star. There was a boy with her. Like the woman, he had yellow-blonde hair. He was wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a plain black t-shirt.
“Ding ding!” The woman called out, mimicking the sound of the door chime.
“Mom!” The boy that was with her sounded embarrassed.
“Davey, we’ve got to get the attention of the clerk. Ding, ding,” she said again.
I stood up and rounded the corner. “Can I help you?” I asked.
The woman held her hand out to me. I put my hand in hers. “I’m Miss Janice Steep,” she said. “And this is my son, Davey. We’re going to be moving here soon.” She pointed across the width of the space. “Anyway, that pool out by the road. I would like to know about it.”
I went and got Morris from the stockroom. He led the woman outside, leaving me and the boy, Davey, in the store. I went back to work, but every so often I would glance over at Davey who was leaning against the wall.
Now, as I looked through the stack of books, I placed them on the floor on top of one another, building a new stack. There were seven books in all. All of them had similar covers with colorful sketches of terrified teenagers and bright, neon titles.
A letter sized white envelope was tucked into one of the thin volumes closest to the bottom. I slid the envelope from the pages. My first name had been printed on the outside of the envelope in fancy, cursive handwriting. Other than my name, the envelope was blank. The envelope wasn’t sealed. Instead, the flap had been tucked inside. I lifted the flap and slid the contents out. It was a single, folded piece of paper that had the same handwriting as what was on the envelope.
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BLAKE,
I hope you are doing better. I truly hate to see you get hurt. As you know, you are like a son to me. Please, let’s get together sometime soon. I miss you so much.
The books that I’m sending you are some of the ones that I had when I was a teenager. I want you to have them. I’m sure Davey would want that too.
Call me anytime. Or write. Or text. You mean the world to me.
Love always,
Janice
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I LOWERED THE PAPER. It was the first time I had heard from Miss Steep since Davey’s funeral. I missed her.
After our first meeting in the store, Davey started going to school in Ridge Spring, and we quickly became friends. We spent a lot of time together at his house and mine. It wasn’t just him that I was close to. Miss Steep’s presence had helped fill the void that Mom’s death left behind. She treated me the same as her own son. On my birthday, I was shocked when Davey confessed to me that the money inside my card was the same amount that she had given him.