Adelmo grabbed hold of the counter and scrambled to his feet. Bewildered, he moved to stand next to Lana, who had also come around the counter. He was trying to catch his breath and wondering if he dared reach for his cell phone that sat tantalizingly near, atop the counter. He was unsure if the gesture would bring another attack from the unusual man as he stood silently assessing the situation.
The strange man slowly got to his feet. And then he laughed.
Adelmo looked at Lana out of the corner of his eye. Shock and terror registered on her face as she hugged the book to her as if to use it as a shield. He wanted her to feel safe but was unsure of what was to happen next. Since spending so much time together in school, then working together, his brotherly feelings for her had matured into a true care for her. He wanted to keep her safe from harm.
As the man‟s laughter swelled, Adelmo found himself smiling back involuntarily, when suddenly the strange man abruptly stopped laughing and spat out Adelmo‟s blood.
The three of them shared one more eternally odd, frozen moment, and then the intruder turned and rushed from the store.
Adelmo stumbled to the door, but the man was gone, vanished, as if into thin air, and for the first time that day, Adelmo was not haunted by the memories of his parents. In a confused daze, he closed the door and slowly turned back to the counter.
“Adelmo!”
He looked at Lana.
“Call the police!” she cried.
Snapped back to reality, he rushed to the counter and opened his cell phone. But he didn't dial a number. He just looked down at his hand. His back was to Lana, who shifted impatiently as hysteria threatened to take control of her.
“Adelmo!”
He didn't turn, but only said:
“What do I tell them?”
Lana went to his side, not understanding what he was talking about, as she grabbed Adelmo by the arm and pulled him around to face her, still clutching the book to her chest. Her eyes wide with fear and concern, she couldn't believe what he was asking and in frustration she spit out.
“He bit you!”
She grabbed his hand and held the evidence up to his face as if to prove it had all been real, and to her amazement his hand was unmarked save for what was assuredly Adelmo's own blood.
There were no bite marks on his hand. He raised his hand with his fingers spread in wonder, staring at the site, turning it to see where the marks had gone.
Her eyes locked on Adelmo's eyes through his fingers, the flesh, unscarred and unbroken. It was such an amazing sight. Lana took hold of his hand, unable to accept that it was unscarred, and examined it for herself. Suddenly she realized she was holding Adelmo's hand and quickly dropped it, looking down at the floor a bit embarrassed about her boldness.
Adelmo smiled and lifted her chin with the tip of one finger to avoid bloodying her face.
“What would I tell them?”
He went behind the counter and found a dust rag, wiping off his hand. Only then did he notice the title of the book that Lana was holding to her chest. The book she had used to save his life.
Il Caut Pe Lup.
She placed the book on the counter in front of him and returned to the inventory list she was reconciling when the intruder entered, bringing with him a multitude of unanswered questions.
Il Caut Pe Lup.
“Lana.”
She looked up, eyes once again bright and expectant.
“Where did that book come from?”
“Today‟s delivery.”
“You‟re sure?”
She shrugged and picked up the inventory list she‟d been going over when all the excitement began, looking down the list of titles on the inventory roster and back to the spine of the book lying on the counter.
She frowned, “That‟s funny.”
“What?” Adelmo asked, but he already knew what she was going to say.
“It‟s not here.”
She went over to look at the book, and went back to the counter where she had left her work.
“I guess it was already here.”
Adelmo knew that wasn't true, but there was no reason Lana would know that. Adelmo knew practically every title in the store from memory, and he was certain the book had neither been in the shop before that morning, nor come in with the new inventory.
“What language is that, anyway?” she asked.
“No idea,” he lied.
She gave him a funny look, but didn't push it. Adelmo stared at the book for a long moment until Lana looked up from her work.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I‟m fine.”
“Maybe you should get checked out.”
“I‟ll just wash up.”
Adelmo smiled, not wishing to worry her, and went into the back. He closed and locked the door behind him and studied his face in the mirror.
He knew exactly what language it was, and he could translate the title.
"I Seek The Wolf.‟
“What a day,” he muttered, and soaped up his hands, scrubbing away the last evidence of the strange man‟s existence. He splashed some water on his face. Today of all days, he sighed to himself.
Leaving the restroom, he went to the counter to continue going over the inventory list when Lana asked “Are you alright? Maybe you should call it a day. I can take care of it and lock up, if you like.”
Adelmo felt exhausted, the incident with the strange little man had taken more out of him than he had thought. He took Lana up on her offer and left the shop. His stomach was gnawing on itself; he was ravenous. He glanced at his watch to find it was 3 pm. Where had the time gone? He hadn't eaten all day and the thought of the outdated milk and half carton of leftover Chinese in the refrigerator just wasn't going to satisfy me. He stopped at the market nearest his home to pick up a few things.
Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled into his driveway with an inordinately large amount of groceries and lugged the bags up the stoop to his porch.
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