Log:Afternoon in the Bookstore
| Afternoon in the Bookstore | |
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| Participants | 22 June, 2017 CB shows up at Tamarack Falls Jewish Books, and then more people do. Golem Happiness (tm). |
| Location | |
| This isn't exactly the most popular or hoppin' hangout in town. Even the owner and her single worker don't keep the place open all the time. Vermont is not exactly renowed for its religious community, let alone its Jewish community. All the same, it's quite a lovely day to be in the shop: it's quiet, the place smells like paper (that lovely smell of books that readers often love) and greenery -- there are a lot of little succulents scattered around the place for whatever reason -- and Gisa's sitting in one of the chairs, casually enjoying her own shop. The Fireheart has two books open, one on her lap and the other on the table next to her, and she's flipping back and forth between them, making notes. Like popular or hoppin' has ever stopped a writer as obsessive as C.B. from visiting a bookshop: it could be 72 degrees and sunny outside and he'd still rather be inside with a book, be it reading or writing one. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with the words ‘I would prefer not to’ emblazoned upon it in white, with a red and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up on top of that. Plus black jeans and red Converse high tops and that old school leather bookbag slung across his person with the 'IMPEACH DRUMPF' and 'resist' buttons. Worn Red Sox baseball cap on his head, too, and a hand-rolled cigarette tucked behind one ear. Hands slung in pockets, he's more absorbed in the books when he first steps in; it takes him a good few moments to realize Gisa is there as well, and then he blinks at her. "Heeeeeeey," he says. "Gisa, right? Did I know you owned a bookstore? Presuming this place is yours?" His short-term memory is shit sometimes. For all he knows she could have told him all about the bookstore and he doesn't remember. "You did know I owned a bookstore, I told you," Gisa answers, without looking up for a second or two as she makes a couple more notations. "But it is a Jewish bookstore so I don't expect most people to actually show up here. Though we do spend time in the back room sometimes. That is a place for people to come if they need help." She finishes her notations -- quickly-written Hebrew cursive -- in the margins of one of the books, then sets it aside and looks up. "It is mine. Alonso works here also but I own it." A small, awkward smile. Someone probably told her to smile once when dealing with customers. "How are you?" "Well. Jewish writers are some of the best goddamn writers in the entire universe," C.B. says with a slight grin, and then raises an eyebrow as he approaches the counter. "Sorry. I guess I shouldn't be saying the g-word in here or something. But I'd like to think the spirit of Lenny Bruce is watching over me." His eyes move past her to wherever the aforementioned back room. "The back room. Hmm. I'm guessing it's probably not for the likes of me, given my track record here so far." He takes off his cap and runs a hand through his mop of unruly hair. "Not bad. Finally got some work done; took forever. What're you studying there?" He indicates her books with his chin. "Yes, this is a true fact," agrees Gisa, without a hint of irony or anything but, well, stating a fact. "Chabon is one of my favorites. And it is okay. I do not care for the word but it is not the way that commandment goes. To take the name in vain is really, in the original, about making an oath on the name of God. This is part of why we are released from our oaths on Yom Kippur, so that we may be released from any that we have made in His name accidentally." She adds, after a pause, "It does not actually work on pledges, which is a relief, I think. Do not worry, there is no one here at the moment but us." Her eyebrows rise up, and then fall again. "What track record? And it is fine. I keep the back room as a safe place to talk about our matters. Also there is a first aid kit and a change of clothes and food back there." Her eyeflames flicker briefly. "Oh. I am working on looking at the links between the Talmud and Torah and other writings, where one references the other. There is a listing on Chabad but I am checking it." Be... cause... that's something normal people do, Gisa. C.B. bobs his head. "Chabon is great. I often feel a bit like Grady Tripp, but maybe all writers do." He listens to her shpiel on taking names in vain and comments, "Good to know. I'm another one of those atheists. Usually I stumble and fall over mainstream religion like a shambling zombie, but. This is your house, not mine." A C.B. attempt at politeness and concession. He has them sometimes. "As for your back room, I am not a member of the special 'club.' And a certain owner of a certain /other/ establishment in this town told me that back rooms are only for people in the 'club' and I was not fucking welcome." His brow furrows, showing pretty clearly how he feels about this. "So I just stopped asking. I'll have my own space here soon enough." He tilts his head, eyeing her books with a small squint. "Ah. So you're not just a bookstore owner, you're a scholar as well. It's not something I know a ton about, but I like the obsessive detail with which those things tend to be done." Laughter from Gisa then: it sounds like a handful of pebbles being thrown into a well, but the way her mouth curves up a little bit at the corners is SORT of an indication that she means it as a laugh, isn't it? It should be, anyway. "That is fine. I do not have anything against atheists. I think that atheists have a great deal to teach those of us who are not." Her muscular shoulders roll easily, that tectonic sort of movement that she has. "Well, that may be true for his or her back room, but it is not for mine, not as an absolute. As a general guide, yes, but if you are invited, or if you are hopeful by nature, then you are welcome, whether or not you belong to the club in question. You are invited. You may visit, and the resources are open to you. If I should leave someone uncared for, God forbid." And she seems to really mean that last bit. "Yes. I am. I am, and I enjoy to research and to read. Not just on Torah but that is... " Pause. "It is calming?" Her shoulders roll again. "Well how are we to know the answers if we do not discuss and research them?" C.B. watches her face as Gisa explains her views. You can learn a lot about someone by watching them talk -- even someone as stoic as Gisa. Heck, maybe it's the lack of expression that makes her interesting to watch. Those eyeflames. His own eyes are that faded denim blue with smoky silver swirling in him, but it's different. They mostly look like normal eyes. "Alright. Duly noted. 'Gisa Cohen is not a wanker,'" and he pretends to write it down, using an invisible pen on his palm, smirking all the while. He goes on. "Calming? Meditative, I would think. I feel that way about poetry. I mean, writing and reading are probably the closest thing I have to a religion, so in that way I'm maybe not so far apart from the Jewish tradition." Then he considers her question, such as it is. "That goes for absolutely anything in life, doesn't it? People don't think. If they fucking thought, then I wouldn't be protesting the same goddamn things I was protesting fifty years ago." He figures it's safe to say that in here, right now, with no one else around. | |
