The Book Of Love

"Ah, Johanna I was afraid you had found another book store to spend your days in," Mrs. Kabanuck greeted me, shutting the book she was reading before placing it on a random stack of books on the counter next to her.

Cactus Book Shop wasn't anything like a Borders or a Barnes & Noble. They were neat and organized, clean. They were very spacious, too. Mrs. Kabanuck's place was considered 'messy' to most who dared to walk through the doors. It was older and came with its own scent. If you ran your finger across a shelf or opened up to the middle of a book then slammed it shut, chances are you would breathe in dust. Some people might find this place appalling, but it was cozy and comfortable to me.

I turned around and closed the old wooden door behind me, causing the bell above the frame to jingle slightly. "I could never find another book store; this place is like my second home. I've just been busy tidying up the house and haven't had the time to drive out here," I explained, pulling the strap of my bag higher up my shoulder.

"It's summer break, you shouldn't be cleaning. You should be out and about, enjoying life, seeing the world," she told me.

I frowned. "I guess I am kind of missing out."

Mrs. Kabanuck gave me a sympathetic smile. "Is there anything in particular I can help you find today, dear?"

"No," I shrugged. "I'm just going to look around," I let her know before walking off towards the back of the book store.

I made my way to a random shelf, one I had stood in front of hundreds of times before, and picked out a book. It's summary was exciting and sounded like the book had the potential to be a good one. I sat down and read the first chapter, fifteen pages. It wasn't all that bad of a book, even if it was categorized as a mystery.

I didn't have a problem with reading mystery books, I just had a hard time keeping all of the facts straight and remembering them along the way. My favorite type of novel was romance, just like most people's. I like the occasional fairy tale and stories taking place way back in time. I wasn't very particular, I'd read anything, as long as the summary left me wanting to read more.

I had been skimming the titles of books and reading summaries for at least a half an hour in complete silence. That was, until I heard the faint sound of the bell above the doorway ring. Normally, it was just Mrs. Kabanuck and I. Very rarely did anyone else venture inside. People in Texas didn't read much, I suppose. The ringing had caught my attention, but I hadn't looked up from the book that was in my hands.

Spellbound before his own portrait, Dorian Gray utters a fateful wish. In exchange for eternal youth he gives his soul, to be corrupted by the malign influence of his mentor, the aesthete and hedonist Lord Henry Wotton. The novel was met with moral outrage by contemporary critics who, dazzled perhaps by Wilde's brilliant style, may have confused the author with his creation, Lord Henry, to whom even Dorian protests, 'You cut life to pieces with your epigrams.'. Encouraged by Lord Henry to substitute pleasure for goodness and art for reality, Dorian tries to watch impassively as he brings misery and death to those who love him. But the picture is watching him, and, made hideous by the marks of sin, it confronts Dorian with the reflection of his fall from grace, the silent bearer of what is in effect a devastating moral judgement.

No, thank you. I returned the book back to its place on the shelf. Then I reached for a book that was so worn down that I could barely make out the title on the spine. When I lifted the book off of the shelf, I was quite surprised to see a boy peering at me through the empty space. He didn't speak a word, he just grinned at me. I blushed slightly and looked away before I slid the book back into it's spot, not even bothering to read the summary.

After placing the book back, I took a few more steps before sliding another book off of the shelf. He was there again, same toothy smile still on his face. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a faint smile on my lips, before I set the book down, still not reading its summary. I went to walk out of the aisle, but he stepped in front of me.

He was wearing a plain, burgundy short-sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans. On top of his head sat a cowboy hat that went along with his dark brown boots. His skin had a nice shade to it, like he spent long hours working on a farm. He had striking blue eyes, and his shorter, light brown hair was poking out from underneath his hat. He was tall, too--probably around six foot two. He was your typical country boy.

I started to wonder why he had approached me when he suddenly spoke. "If I were a book, would you read me?" He even had the southern accent to go along with his charming good looks.

I tilted my head to the side a bit. "I don't know. Is your summary interesting?"

The guy cracked a smile before speaking in a sophisticated voice. "Aaron Barlow was born and raised in San Angelo, Texas. He works on his pa's farm, like most eighteen-year-old guys. He plays guitar and writes lyrics in his spare time. When he can't sleep, he lays on his roof and looks at the stars. If you asked him who his best friend was, he would tell you that the person he's closest to is his eleven-year-old sister. He hasn't driven a car since he was sixteen--August 9th, 2008, to be exact. He doesn't have a clue as to what he wants to do in the future, he's just sort of stumbling through life but enjoying every minute of it," he told me. "One day, Aaron was walking to the market when he caught sight of a beautiful girl in a book store. Food for dinner that night suddenly wasn't on his mind anymore. He stepped inside of the door and spoke to the girl. Then he asked the brunette, Is your summary interesting? Did she answer him? And did they walk out of the book shop together, or did they go their separate ways?"

I couldn't keep the grin off of my face. He was exceptionally creative and definitely interesting. "Mereta, Texas--an actual ghost town smack dab in the middle of the Lone Star Sate. It had a population of less than one hundred fifty, and the closest bookstore was a long and boring eighteen miles away. She didn't have a single friend her age, just the lady who owned the book store she frequented. There were only two other kids in all of her town, and the only thing that was practically still operating was the post office. Mereta was the place that seventeen-year-old Johanna Anderson called home all of her life. She didn't travel or go on vacations, she was merely stuck at home with her father. She wasn't able to go anywhere in life--that was why she read books. It was as if she were the characters and was seeing places other than desert and cacti. Would Johanna's dream of leaving Texas for good ever come true?"

"So, would you read me?" Aaron asked, a tiny smirk etched on his lips.

"Would you read me?" I challenged, not quite sure as to what I was doing. I didn't really have experience with guys, other than 'Hey, you're smart. What's the answers to last night's homework?' Talking to Aaron was something entirely new to me, and I kind of.. liked it.

"I asked you first," he stated.

I nodded my head. "I wouldn't leave here without it."

"I wouldn't leave here without you, either." I blushed, shifting the books I was holding to my other arm before tucking my bangs behind me ear. "Do you need a hand with those?" Aaron questioned, motioning to the books I had found.

"No," I replied as I lightly shook my head. "I don't think I'm going to get them."

"Are you sure? It would be my pleasure to buy them for you."

"That's really kind of you, but I'll be okay without them," I said as I placed all three of the books back on a shelf. "I have you to read instead."

Aaron gave me a smile before grabbing my hand and leading me towards the door. "Ma'am," he said, tipping his hat towards Mrs. Kabanuck as we passed her.

"Bye, Mrs. Kabanuck," I waved with my free hand.

"You two have a great day," she responded. We both said thank you and walked through the door, hearing the bell jingle as we did.

"Well, I'm that way," Aaron informed me, jerking his thumb behind him to the left of the book store.

"I'm that way," I said with a little bit of a frown as I pointed in the opposite direction. He tipped his hat down towards me then turned around and started to walk back the way he had come.

I watched him for a moment or two before words poured uncontrollably out of my mouth. "Do you need a ride back home?" I called.

He stopped moving his feet and turned back to me, hands in his pockets. "No, I'm alright. I enjoy walking," he shrugged as he moved back in my direction. "The Tom Green County Fair's coming up this Friday. Would you meet me there?" he asked hopefully. To say I was surprised that Aaron was asking me, of all people, to see him again, was an understatement.

"Yes," I finally said with a nod. "I haven't been to the fair since I was a kid."

"I'll see you then," he grinned. I returned his grin before we both headed in different directions.

I put the key in the ignition of my 1977 Ford F-150 and pulled out of the parking space, heading home. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I had gone into Mrs. Kabanuck's book store hundreds of times before, but I only ever came out with books, never a boy.