Becoming a Man in the Shadowlands: a Survivor's Story
Copyright© 2019 by Dennis Randall
Chapter 28: Stolen Knowledge
My newly found love of reading conspired with my paper route to destroy my first year of high school. I was up each morning before dawn and was dressed while the rest of the household still slept. In winter months, as I set out to do my route, stars filled the back sky.
It was a one mile trek into the center of town to pick up a fresh stack of Worcester Telegram and Gazette newspapers. It was a peaceful journey. In the predawn darkness, I was usually the only person on the streets.
One February morning, the thermometer was hovering around ten degrees below zero. My head was down as I crunched through a fresh snowfall. Suddenly the ground beneath my feet started to sparkle and glow.
Startled, I stopped dead in my tracks and looked up just in time to see a brilliant fireball sail across the starry sky and vanish over the western horizon. In the wake of its passing, a sparkling contrail of fireflies marked its path across the heavens. The trail lingered for several minutes.
My route was laid out in such a way that my last stop was a corner store. I used that stop to warm up in the winter and kill time before the start of school.
The store had an enormous collection of magazines and several displays of paperback books in revolving wire racks. Each morning I would review the selection of books and since I was usually broke, I would sneak a book into my carrier’s bag.
My books of choice were usually science fiction, and I followed all the classic authors of the day: Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert Heinlein, Ray Bradbury, Philip K. Dick, Kurt Vonnegut, and more.
Instead of stealing, I considered it as unauthorized borrowing on the honor system. I always returned the same book the next day in pristine condition. I would pay for the book if I damaged or lost it.
The owner of the involuntary lending library was a kindly fat man who must have weighed in at three hundred and fifty plus pounds. Over time, he became an adopted parent.
I thought my clever book borrowing was a secret. One morning, the store owner watched me spin the book rack for the third or fourth time as I searched in vain for a title to borrow.
“Dennis, you might want to check the boxes on the floor for a book to steal. I haven’t had time to unpack and rack them yet,” he said.
My heart nearly stopped as I felt a wave of fear come over me.
As I started to sputter an explanation, the owner said, “Don’t say a thing. I’ve been watching you for the last two weeks. Every day I see you steal a book and every day you return a book. Am I right?”
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