A new story that I'm working on...
Chapter One
There was not one who frequented the coffee shop on the corner road who would have taken it upon themselves to call the young lady who sat at the window seat each day “unfriendly.” Her manner was well-bred and genteel, yet she made no friends with her company, of the regular coffee and tea drinkers. This, in another, would have been enough for her to have been labeled a most unpleasant sort, yet none out of the assorted group would have so much as said she was disagreeable. She did not seek to be friends, nor did she seek to be enemies, and people grew used to her, as they would to a permanent detail of the room, such as a painting or table. They grew used to seeing her sitting by her window, one hand propping up her forehead, the other marking her page within the book she was reading. No longer did they attempt to distract this girl from her reading by such things as conversation, for they learned to realize such pursuits were useless. In return to any pleasantry remarks and conversation starters she would nod politely, smile, and go back to her book after an adequately polite pause.
They knew of her, only what they could perceive with their own eyes. The most observant one of them might have given a detailed description as to her appearance, yet even he would be unable to give even the feeblest account as to her character or personality. As with a fixture of the room, she soon ceased to be thought of as mysterious in any way. The faded green armchair situated in the corner received just about as much attention as the girl with the auburn hair and her book. To someone who did not frequent the coffee shop on corner road she was perhaps an oddity. Amidst the people who came each day to sip their coffee or tea and chatter busily to their neighbor she looked rather out of place. She was the one person in all of that busy place who sat alone with two empty chairs pulled up to her table. She was the one person who sat silent, who did not chatter or converse, but who sat, serenely turning each page to that ever present book.
As was the daily frequenters of the small coffee shop, she was a person of habit. It was an unusual day that she did not make an appearance soon after the small clock on the wall had given its habitual tinkling of chimes upon the hour, as it signaled midday. Each day she appeared, each day she smiled to the waitress and ordered her usual cup of tea, and each day she sat down at the smallest table by the window and opened her book. None disturbed her in her habitual order of things.
Either the two young men, entering the coffee shop that day, had no respect for the order of things, as was popular opinion whispered in hushed tones. Or they simply did not know any better, which was considered highly unlikely. Either way, upon making an entrance they did a most unheard of thing. After ordering two cups of coffee, one to be heavily sugared, they glanced around the room and politely requested to take the two unused seats at the small table by the window. It was, to be sure, a very busy day in the small shop, and no other two available seats were placed together within the shop’s walls. However, to do such a thing was most inconsiderate, so the people said. The young lady was not to be disturbed. It was the well learned, and now well taught, rule of the place.
“The young lady” did not show the slightest sign of being perturbed by this change in the order of things. She did what anyone aware of her personality would have expected her to do; she smiled sweetly and said “but of course!” as if it were a turn of events she was delighted in and it were no greater pleasure than to be interrupted in her reading. After the young men had placed themselves at the adjacent corner of the table however, she glanced down at her book, clearly showing she wished to return to its depths. The proper behavior at this point would have been for the young men to have waited quietly for her to become wholly engrossed within her book and then to have proceeded to converse quietly amongst themselves, this however, they did not do.
The one who appeared to be the younger stared fixedly at the spine of her book for a moment and then said in affected accents “Chesterton, eh? Me thinks I have not yet by perchance come upon that particular title. If it would not trouble thou too heartily, might I beg for a glance to ascertain its content?” the girl stared at him blankly.
“Don’t mind Ted,” the other boy said quickly now that a conversation seemed to be in order. “He’s just been reading a mite too much ye’ olden British literature.”
“Theodore, my dear chap. Theodore, must I be forced to repeat it every second sentence? Dear fellow, my name happens not to be “Ted” nor even “Teddy” ‘tis Theodore Kent- at your service.” he finished off as he remembered his gentlemanly manners to the lady present.
“I’m Tommy Kent, pleased to meet you.” the other boy said now, sighing.
“Annette Gardiner.” The girl said, her face wrinkling up in a look of amusement that coffee shop had yet to have seen before.
With only a brief look of regret she handed over her book to the hands of the eager Theodore, who looked like he would have enjoyed eating up the book as a side course, along with his sugary coffee.
“Has he been like this long?” Annette asked of Tommy with mock solemnity. Tommy took a long contemplative sip from his coffee mug and raised an eyebrow. “He’s always been a nut if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m not sure it is.”
“Well, it’s what I mean, to be sure. I suppose I’m a bit of a nut myself, but Ted’s long gone.”
“Ted” here interposed. “M’dear Tommy, ‘tis all fine and dandy to be calling a fellow a nut, but you must remember to state that if I’m a nut I’m a literary nut!”
“Oh, quite literary indeed,” Annette joined in, “I’ve rarely seen such an obviously literate fellow in all of my born days!”
Here Theodore kissed her hand graciously.
“To tell the truth, we rather sought your acquaintance because you looked quite literate yourself.” Tommy said rather bashfully. “We were just going to leave the coffee shop but you seemed like someone you’d want to know- so we joined you.”
“Indeed I am most honored.” She said, finding the formal tones rather catching. “Am I singled out in this honor, pray, or do you two often seek out any stray personages who happen to be reading at the time?”
“Well, that’s just the thing,” said Tommy “We have just now decided to form a league where we shall hunt down literary sorts of people. You’re our first one.”
