IMMOLATION: Chapter 23

Sorry for getting this out late, internet was down and I had to find an alternative spot to upload this.

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Joan stood up, ignoring her complaining knees and back from having to sit crouching for so long, and surveyed the small corner of the shop that she'd been working on for the last couple hours. The shelves were neat, the titles were clearly visible, and everything was in alphabetical order according to author, just like Mike had told her.

The labyrinth of shelves was getting to be more familiar to her now and Joan only made a couple of wrong turns before finding her way back to the front of the store. Mike flinched when he noticed the small flame on Joan's back, but said nothing. Perhaps it was Melanie's influence, or the fact that the fire didn't burn Joan's clothes anymore, either way Mike was getting better at hiding his discomfort about Joan's fire. Instead he pointed to another stack of boxed books.

“Not again,” Joan moaned as she moved inevitably toward the boxes.

Mike nodded, “Afraid so,” He said.

“Is it always like this?” Joan asked.

“Only when we're open,” Mike teased. He began as if to pat Joan on the back and then thought better of it, patting her on the top of her head instead, albeit awkwardly.

“Thanks,” Joan chuckled and lifted the first box from the stack. “And where do these need to go?”

“Remember that corner you worked in on your first day?” mike asked.

Joan nodded slowly. “The one crammed so full of books you had me using stacks of books for book shelves?”

“That's the one,” Mike said and nodded toward its general direction.

“And how are these suppose to fit?” She demanded.

“You'll see,” Mike prodded her, “Now get going.”

Joan carried the box just far enough into the shelves of books to be out of sight before stopping. She had to think, going through her mental map of the store, to see if she remembered where that particular back corner was. The store didn't seem to be shaped like a normal store. There were far too many back corners, far too many shelves to reasonably be able to fit into the shop, and far too few patrons in the store to justify the rate at which some sections were cleared out. In fact, now that Joan got to thinking about it, she rarely if ever came across shoppers while she worked.

Joan shook her head and started walking. She took the first right she came to, then her second left, another right, and then another. Dead end. Joan tried another path. The shelves were so high that she couldn't see over them to get any real sense of direction and the books did strange things to sounds such that Joan could never be certain where they were coming from.

Joan wandered around a bit more before she had to set the stack of books down and take a short break to rest her arms. She'd stopped in some unfamiliar section of the store, its shelves were nearly empty and judging from the abnormally thick dust on the shelves it looked like it had been a long time since anyone had been back here.

“Joan.”

Mike's voice sounded right behind her and she let out a little scream of surprise. The flame on her back flared and she couldn't help it as she burned a small hole in the back of her shirt

“Whoa!” Mike called out, backing away from her quickly. “Didn't mean to surprise you.”

Joan pulled her flame back under control and her shirt stopped burning immediately. They both wrinkled their noses at the smell of her burnt shirt and Mike waved his hand back and forth to try and clear the air of the wisps of smoke.

“Any way,” Mike said uncomfortably after giving up on clearing the air. “Glad you found your way here.”

Joan looked around in shock. “This is it?” Joan exclaimed before she could stop herself. “I mean,” She corrected quickly, “Yeah, I just couldn't believe how fast the books flew off the shelf.”

“Right,” Mike smiled and picked up the box so he could set it down on a sturdy shelf at waist level. “Any way, Melanie's going to be here in a few minutes and I thought it might do her some good to be able to talk with you for a while.”

“Why don't you want to talk to her?” Joan asked, relieved at not having to stock shelves for a while but confused by Mike's behavior.

“I do,” Mike said, not meeting her eyes, “But I'm not very good with these sorts of things and I don't want to make it harder for Mel than it has to be right now.”

“Okay,” Joan said and decided that she believed him. Guys were, after all, pretty bad when it came to emotions and understanding them.

“Take your first three lefts,” Mike called after Joan as she began working her way back through the maze.

Sure enough, three left turns later Joan found herself back at the front of the store. She sat down behind the counter and waited. She could hear Mike whistling to himself in the distance, though as always it sounded like it was coming from a completely different part of the store than where she now knew he was.

A few minutes passed before the door bell dinged and Joan looked up as Melanie walked in. She looked good, considering everything that had happened. Her eyes weren't bloodshot from crying and her clothes matched today. All the same, her usual smile and perky attitude were still missing.

“Hey,” Melanie said.

“How's it going?” Joan asked and immediately realizing that any number of greetings would have been better. Perhaps her judgment of men and their emotional competency had been too hasty.

“We're getting through it,” Melanie shrugged and joined Joan behind the counter. “Funeral's tomorrow.”

“What?” Joan asked, “Why so soon?”

Melanie shrugged again, something she'd been doing more often lately. “There's no real reason to wait.”

Melanie was right. There was no body to prepare for burial. In fact, there was no burial at all. All that they could do was hold a service and display some photographs.

“I'm sorry,” Joan said and pulled Melanie into a hug.

Melanie rested her head on Joan's shoulder for a time before pulling back. “Is Mike around?”

Joan pointed vaguely off toward the back of the store and Melanie nodded, her expression saddening.

“He loves you,” Joan found herself saying.

Melanie shrugged.

“He...” Joan paused, not sure what she should say.

Melanie looked back to her. “Why won't he talk to me?” She asked. “Why doesn't he want to see me?” Tears began to shine in her eyes.

“He...he said he wasn't very good with these things, and that he didn't want to make things worse.”

“So he ignores me? Pretends that I don't exist?” Melanie shouted and Joan got the distinct impression that Melanie's shout was more for Mike than for her.

“Is this a bad time?”

Both Melanie and Joan turned abruptly. Tom stood in the doorway. Melanie's shout had drowned out the door bell.

“No,” Joan said immediately. “I mean, it could be better,” she shot a glance at Melanie who was quickly wiping her eyes on her sleeve and doing a good job at making it look like she was fixing her hair. “Any way, what can we do for you?”

Tom entered the store properly and looked back and forth at the two young women. “I was actually looking for you, Joan.” He said at last.

“Well I never was very good at hide and seek,” Joan replied, surprised by her wit.

Tom didn't seem to catch it though and instead shifted his attention to Melanie. “I'm sorry,” He told her, “And,” He looked around the store, “Judging by the fact that Mike is no where to be found he's being his usual idiot self,” Tom leaned forward, resting an elbow on the counter, “Don't be too hard on him, just smack him a bit on the back of the head and tell him what he should be doing. He cares, he just doesn't know how to show it.”

Melanie nodded and skulked off to find Mike.

“And here I was about to tell Melanie about how all men are emotionally stunted and not to hold it against Mike for being born that way,” Joan said.

“We're a brilliant breed when we're not involved directly,” Tom answered, “The moment we get dragged into things directly, however, we become total morons.”

Joan laughed and Tom brightened a little.

“And speaking of morons,” Tom began and at the same time that grew very interested in looking at something the counter only he could see, “I was wondering if you'd care to join me this evening for dinner,” He paused, but still didn't look up at her, “Since all my other attempts so far have been unsuccessful,” Tom finally looked back up at her. “And I'm sorry for the short notice,” Tom began again, cutting Joan off right before she could begin to give her answer. “I was just in the area and thought I'd poke my head in and see if you were working and—

“You're just going to keep talking,” Joan interrupted him, “Aren't you?”

Joan laughed and Tom managed a slight chuckle.

“Yeah, probably,” He admitted. “Like I said, brilliant breed until we get ourselves involved.

“Well, before you get to rambling again,” Joan said, “I'd love to have dinner with you.”

Tom let out a sigh of relief.

“But,” Joan said, “I don't think tonight's a good night for it.”

Tom deflated.

“Melanie really needs—

“Go on the date!” Melanie called out from the labyrinthine shelves, sounding much more like her usual self than she had since her dad's death.

“Are you sure?” Joan called back.

“I've got Mike,” Melanie reassured her. A series of muffled giggles followed, along with, “no...stop it...stop it...” And finally a slap and a mild shout of pain that sounded like it came from Mike.

“Okay than,” Melanie said, “I get off at six, if you just want to meet me back here.”

“Sounds good,” Tom stated eagerly, his face flushing slightly. “Really good. Okay, I'll see you back here at six.”

Tom backed away from the counter slowly, nodding and muttering affirmatives and eventually bumped into the door.

“Right,” He said, “See you later.”

Joan burst into laughter the moment Tom was out of the store.

“Though you may want to change your shirt first,” Mike called from the back of the store. “If Tom sees the hole in the back he might never recover from his fit of stuttering.”

Another slap sounded and mike cried out again. Joan wasn't sure if Melanie had slapped him for the comment or something else but Joan's curiosity wasn't strong enough for her to go and find out.