Copyrighted Material
I wasn't able to see him for a couple of weeks, which just about killed me, but I did own a used bookstore, and part of my job was to run around to estate and garage sales, looking for suitable and readable material for the people who frequented my store.
I had asked Dan if he wanted to go to one with me but he politely declined. He didn't give me a reason, but I was pretty sure it was because we'd be in a new place, surrounded by what could turn out to be a large number of strange people, and I could completely understand his discomfort since I often felt the same way, but business was business.
After a few fruitless stops at which I'd bought perhaps five books tops, I was beginning to lose heart. My last stop was at an estate sale, and as expected, there were quite a collection of people browsing, exclaiming loudly as they came across one treasure or another.
I tuned them out and began to browse, hoping to find at least one book which I began to think wasn't going to happen since every shelf that looked as though it might have held a book at one point was empty. I took a close look at the large, heavy, mahogany antique shelf that they'd been on and told the owner I'd take it.
With a smile, he took my money and put a sold sign on it.
"You wouldn't happen to have any books, would you?" I asked hopefully.
"Yes, sir," he answered as he pointed to a pile of boxes that were stood in a corner not far from the shelf. I thanked him and began to go through the boxes. My stomach dropped a little as I took in the condition of several of them, the spines cracked and curling off or missing entirely. I looked into those, turning the yellowed pages carefully as I looked for edition dates.
As fast as I'd experienced that sinking feeling, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I realized that many of them were first editions dating back from the late 1800s to the early 1900s, and while some were in poor condition, others which had probably been tightly pressed between other books were in near perfect condition.
I knew that the damaged books would be worth next to nothing despite being first editions due to how beat up they were and I knew I could get a good deal on them from the estate. They were only good enough to be put in my blue tinted, glassed-in display case, never meant to be sold, others, I knew I could repair, even though their value would go down since they wouldn't be the original bindings, but I didn't usually sell my books for outrageous amounts of money in the first place, and I was sure that the people who looked for such books would be pleased that they wouldn't have to pay an arm and a leg for it, as they would have in some other stores, original bindings or not.
I'd only glanced through a few books when a feeling came over me and I bought all of the boxes of books, sight unseen to go through later.
The man at the desk looked stunned but gratefully took my money while asking some of his associates to please help me get the boxes to my moving truck which already had a few treasures from other sales inside. The bookshelf was rather large and heavy but we managed to manuever it onto the lift and into the truck where they helped me cover and tie it tightly to prevent damage. Smiling, they refused to take money for their help, and disappeared back into the old house, waving over their shoulders before I lost sight of them.
A few of my workers agreed to meet me at the store to carry the shelving in since I knew that there was no way I was getting it in there by myself. Even with the four of us, we were still sweating like horses by the time we got it inside and placed safely but in a spot where no one could miss it when they walked in. It was definitely a conversation piece. We sat and had a hearty lunch and several bottles of iced tea. When the conversation finally died down, I paid them OT, thanked them profusely and sent them on their way.
After they left I put on my gloves to keep my natural oils from ruining any of the good books, and unpacked the boxes. I found the usual array of books that one would find in any bookstore, paperbacks, fantasy, biographies... they were a little disappointing and I first logged them in my book, then put them aside according to their genre and continued digging.
The further down I went, the more excited I became. Unlike the first box, the older treasures were buried below, and once again I was looking at many first editions... Moby Dick, Great Expectations... I thought my heart was going to jump out of my mouth I was so thrilled. I became aware of the fact that I was making some odd sounds as I pulled each book out so I settled for talking to myself. No one was around to hear me so I spoke as loudly as I wanted to in the empty store.
"Why would they put classics in with bodice rippers?" I exclaimed to no one. "And why didn't I go through the boxes before I bought the damned things. Ah well, hindsight and all that crap," I griped. I sighed and continued on my treasure hunt and I was not disappointed.
The more boxes I opened, the more excited I became. The last two boxes contained several first editions of very old books. I was amazed at the near perfect condition. The pages were a little yellowed on the edges, but the spine, while slightly creased as any well-read book would be, was intact and supple, and I eagerly searched through to see what other treasures I might have come across.
Melville, Crane, Whitman, Twain... all first editions, again, some in better condition than others, but these I was determined to repair and sell since they weren't as deteriorated as some of the others. I already knew some people who would want them. When I came across a copy of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain that was autographed I thought my heart was going to stop altogether. This was definitely a keeper.
I debated with myself whether or not I should list the book in my catalog among the few under the heading Not For Sale but then realized that I had to for insurance reasons. I dutifully added the book to my log, wrapped it in blue cellophane and put it aside with the other classics.
I couldn't help but grin at the last book I took from the box. First edition. Amazing condition considering it's age. I flipped through the yellowed pages and saw that there was not a single one that had been dog-eared, no stains, even the pages themselves were in good condition and I wondered how on earth how a book this old had managed to scrape through without the usual signs of age, though I did notice that the paper was a bit thicker than normal. I was glad that no one was there to see me because I had the feeling that my grin would have put the Joker to shame.
(end part 14)
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