Razoo dumped the books onto the shop floor. Helen was flummoxed. Why did he have to deliver books this way?
Mercifully, he had at least brought them into the shop via the wheelbarrow now, instead of leaving them on the pavement. And there did appear to be a good number of science fiction titles. Razoo had managed to single them out by their covers, a garish concoction of spaceships, intergalactic battles and monstrous-looking creatures.
While Helen stood over the books, Razoo began to walk along the bookshelves, studying the spines of the books before him. Objects that had been his life’s work, yet the contents of which he knew nothing. They looked forbidding. He peered around to see if anyone was watching him and selected a book as furtively as if he was a pickpocket. He weighed it in his hands then leafed through it until he stopped at a page about midway through and looked intently at the black figures positioned in neat rows. Line after line. He tried to read, to make some sense of it all, to penetrate his way into Helen’s world, but the words appeared incomprehensible and hostile.
He went and stood next to Helen.
She felt his closeness as she was trying to sort out the books and ignored it, still angry at his dumping the books like this. This was no way to treat books; they did no harm to anyone, and it made more work for her.
‘Can you teach me how to read?’ Razoo’s words tumbled out rapidly. Nervously he added, ‘I can pay you.’
Did she hear right? She lifted her head. ‘You want to learn how to read?’
‘No crime is it?’ murmured Razoo. He began to fiddle with his worn clothing. A tiny piece of cloth gave way in his hand and he wrapped it around his forefinger, and then released it slowly.
Helen was floored. He did care about books after all. ‘Of course I’ll teach you and there’s no need to pay me. But first things first. You need to know the alphabet.’
‘Bugger me. Can’t we start with something simple?’
‘The alphabet is simple, and essential. But it can be taught easily, and you’ll catch on like nothing.’
Razoo looked doubtful.
Helen smiled. ‘Come on. First you can help me sort these books out into their proper sections. And then we put them in order of the author’s surname. Alphabetically. And don’t worry. Just follow me.’
And for the rest of the afternoon Razoo followed her like a young pup until the pile of books on the floor had been sifted and allocated to their rightful locations.
Helen, pleased with her new assistant, told him to sit on a bench while she made him a mug of hot tea and a pile of boiled egg sandwiches which he gobbled up.
She wondered about the type of book that would interest Razoo. Dogs, she supposed, but there had to be other things. Of course! Horses, as in cowboys and horses. She moved on to the Western section where she selected a book she felt to be right. It was a slim volume with a tattered cover entitled Shadow of a Noose. Beneath the title was the bold pronouncement, ‘Acting wayward came easy to him.’
Satisfied with her choice, Helen wound her way out of the maze and sat down next to Razoo. She opened the book and started reading, enunciating each word carefully: ‘Unk Shadie had a habit of sleeping with one eye open like the old hound dog he had as a kid.’
Razoo was struck dumb with admiration at Helen’s ability to decipher the mysterious code before them; and marvelled at how the words flowed out of her mouth. He was more than happy to let her read for eternity, or until they rode off into the sunset together. On the same horse.
Helen held the book in front of him, putting the tip of a pencil to each word as she read out loud.
‘Betsy was his beloved rifle,’ she read. Then paused. Waiting for her eager pupil.
Razoo trailed his finger along the words she’d just left behind, holding each word for a long moment before finding the confidence to say it out loud. Unsteady but determined he struggled on, ‘Bet … Betsy … was …’ He stopped and looked at her, murmured, ‘I like this …’ He stared at Helen as if about to say something else but instead rubbed his chin before turning his head to the page before him.
*
Initially, learning to read was not easy for Razoo. Helen blamed her teaching while Razoo blamed himself, his stupidity; if he couldn’t read Westerns what could he read? Reading about hound dogs and guns, the things he loved, seemed to make it second-rate. But Razoo kept on. And at night, in the still of his recycling plant and under the watchful eyes of his dogs, he tried reading passages from different books picked at random from his huge stockpile.
He frequently thought of Helen; she was smart and kind and was always reading or mucking about with books. Yes, if he could read books then he would be worth more than a brass razoo. He could be a fit companion for Helen.
Once he could read fluently, he would ask her out on a date. Or maybe take her to the races? No, thought Razoo, a lady like Helen you took to a meal at a fancy restaurant.
*
Helen knew it was serious when Vivian took to brushing and flossing his teeth and rinsing with an antiseptic mouthwash after every meal. Where once he had ducked his head into a book, he now took to ducking into the bathroom before grinning at the mirror, allowing his teeth maximum exposure. They were immaculate by any standard and she could smell his disinfected breath at twenty paces.
Surely, thought Helen, as she picked up the strands of dental floss, Ella should be impressed, although Gabriel might be slightly less impressed with Vivian’s conquest. His younger brother had stepped over the line, and she hoped there wouldn’t be trouble between them. Gabriel could be bull-headed when he wanted, just like his father. It was painfully obvious to Helen that Vivian and Ella were an item and a very serious one if Vivian’s coming home at eight in the morning was anything to go by.
Did Vivian plan on getting Ella pregnant? Or had all that gone by the board? If so, what about Arnold?