©2011 Marcus James Christian
It has been said that when for whatever reason, the one who begins searching for the truths about the Voxians, the truths of the Voxians begin seeking the one in return. At first matters of the Voxians began arriving here and there. I considered them coincidences until I considered the meaning of the word coincidences, the coinciding of angles. Angles are very specific. So then I began to be - very specific.
What is this word, and why did it coincidentally appear within my mind. My search began. It seemed as soon as I considered the idea that I wished to know more, more ideas began to consider me.
I was out of town and came upon a bookstore was closing, permanently. It looked as if it was a classic, locally owned bookstore in a beautiful but well worn, Victorian era home. The hand made sign read, “BOOK SALE, Our Last One … EVER!” I was en-route to a favorite beach in northern California and decided the book store would make a fine detour before acquiring just the right deli sandwich to consume while seated upon a quilt, spread out under the sun and upon the sands near the sea.
I did not need to ask of the reasoning behind the stores closure as I over heard the owner telling what seemed like a frequent patron, “the corporate big-box finally did us in, Oh well, I’ve been wanting to retire anyways.” I was impressed with his positive attitude. It is usually wiser to surf the waves as opposed to battle them I thought to myself in response. I was greeted by the owner and became one of the many crustacean like scavengers hoping to find a second hand gem of a book from the stores beautifully made driftwood shelves.
I remember thinking, if i had a bookstore I would have one that at least in appearance and location was much like this one. I was absurdly wealthy and considered purchasing the place there on the spot. However, I was not driving the right car to make negotiations. I had chosen my classic, custom chromed European sports convertible. I will intentionally omit its make and add in its place the idea that it was not the most convincing “I need a deal” car to be seen driving when attempting negotiations.
So i gave my attentions to the shelves and of course my eyes were drawn to the one book that had no text or markings whatsoever on its black canvas spine. I tried to hide my look of astonishment as I opened it and realized it was not a duplicate. It was actually a handmade manuscript with the first written page stating the following:
by A Fellow Voxian
I looked around the room while being careful to use only my eyes, I did not want to attract attention and I worked hard at acting “pleased” as opposed to ecstatic. The latter of which was my true state. I grabbed two other cheap books to make a book sandwich to take to the register and found myself doing that strange, cartoon like “fallacy” whistle that attempts to suggest, nothing important is occurring even though it is.
A quick prayer was answered as I realized the price for the hand made book was on the back which did not require its opening to be rung up at the register. I remember some bizarre conversation I used to distract the cashier as much as possible to the point they would deprioritize their focus on the handmade book. I was worried that they might think that a hand scribed book was mistakenly considered as sellable for $12.00.
I thanked the cashier, then wished the store owner well in his retirement while attempting to fake a slow gate back out to my silver chromed Aston-Martin. Whoops. I guess I gave its identity away after all.
There was a fun sketch on the second page. It said, “go here and get this.” The this it referred to was a sketch of a page of sheet music - which had only three notes upon its treble staff.