Twilight Zone

Submitted for your approval...

A small antiquarian bookshop in a small town, late on a rainy, Saturday afternoon. In the dim light two gentlemen are in discussion, deploring the younger generation’s lack of enthusiasm for reading and studying classical works. But their conversation comes to a sudden halt as the door to the shop sharply opens letting in the wind, the rain, and the chill…of the Twilight Zone.

Enter a young man, no more than twelve years old, thin, glasses, disheveled hair, wet. He defines the word ‘scurry’ as he hastens past the two men, directly for the second aisle of books. He bends to his knees and reaches knowingly for a slim volume nestled on the bottom shelf. A moment of decision passes and then he rises, comes to the gentlemen, opens the book to a penciled mark and asks: “Is this the price of the book sir?”

It is a small size, slim volume in soft dark blue leather, with one word in gilt on the cover: Cicero. The adults stare at the volume, then at the boy, then at each other. The boy explains how he was in the shop earlier and saw the book but only had ten dollars, not the twenty dollars to buy it. He went down the street to find his father, and ‘borrowed’ the extra money to pay for the book. Not one word yet from the gentlemen as they continue to stare and try to find words to express their wonder.

“Sir”, the boy says, “my father is waiting for me and I really have to leave now.” The book is wrapped carefully for the young customer, money is exchanged, but not the full amount as it is explained that the book must have been mispriced and is only ten dollars. The boy sighs and says “Thank you sir.”

“A very fine choice indeed, young man” offers one of the gentlemen, but before further conversation is possible the boy has scurried once again toward the door and is out into the rain, clutching his treasure tightly. In and out, as quick as a character in knickers from Dickens.

There are no words necessary or even possible for the two men as they walk to the shop windows to watch the departing young man, but there’s nothing to see of course, the sidewalk is empty, the rain pours down on the deserted pavement. They walk over to the shelf of books, and there is definitely a small gap there, so it did happen. One says: “Look, is that fairy dust on the shelf?” A chuckle or two, then silence. “Cicero”! There’s nothing to add.

…The street scene turns to black and white, the camera pans off to the distance, and a familiar voice intones: “You have observed a moment frozen in time, in a small bookshop in a small town, on a not so ordinary rainy afternoon. Two gentlemen have had a curious encounter with a young visitor … an unscheduled appointment … in the Twilight Zone.”