Book People - Miles of Books

It was that damned painting. After breaking up with his girlfriend because he was terrified of commitment, he painted night and day until a clockwork woman stared at him from the canvas. Miles, that's the artist's name, had painted her eyes half open because he wanted her to look perpetually sleepy and unaware of the future. Once he finished the piece, he set it in his office and read a book for the remainder of the day. The next day, he came downstairs to his office to find her eyes wide open and waiting for him. It's about time you got here, she claimed from beyond the canvas. He stared at her in shock. Oh, don't look at me like that, she snapped. I need you to do things for me since you didn't paint me any arms. Miles slowly nodded, all the while wondering if perhaps someone had drugged him. Oh good grief, she yelled, this is really happening, okay? Now get to work! Miles nodded again and asked her what she needed. She told him a list of actions that he needed to accomplish within the day. Miles looked down at the list he wrote out and noticed that all of the actions required hurting someone. This isn't right, he said to her, to which she rolled her big beautiful eyes. And here I thought you actually cared about me, she whined. Miles grinned, and then gently took the painting and went upstairs to his car. He set the painting on the back seat, then drove off to a donation center. Where are we going, she yelled at him. Miles ignored her. They arrived at a donation store, where he parked the car and pulled out the painting. She fell quiet and began to tremble as he set her on the curb and then left her. Wait, he heard her say, come back! 

Miles got in his car and drove home, feeling a weight suddenly roll off his shoulders. He pulled into his garage to park his car, then went inside his home and made a pot of tea. Jasmine green, specifically. He slowly drank his tea while thinking, thinking, thinking, until he made a decision. He got up, packed a small suitcase, and then returned to his car and drove to New Orleans. He'd never been before and honestly, he thought that today seemed like a good day to do it. He arrived sometime later and parked his car in the French Quarter, then left his keys with a homeless man who smelled of lilies and whiskey. He walked through the Quarter aimlessly until he discovered three boxes of boxes with the sign FREE on them. Without looking at their condition or titles, he gathered all of them and carried them to a bench in front of the Cathedral. He sat down and made a sign that read - BOOKS $3 EACH. He looked around at the people who walked by him with a sense of detachment. No one stopped by to look at his books. An hour later, a girl with her parents walked up to him. She smiled as she looked through the books, then gasped with delight as she pulled out an anthology of travel writing. Her parents paid Miles the $3, then told him that she claimed that she wanted to be a great explorer. They walked away and suddenly, five other people immediately walked up to him, all wanting books. 

Soon, he had enough for a meal, so he gathered the rest of the books and walked to a small cafe named Blue Sky. He found a table toward the back and sat down, just as a woman with purple hair walked up to him. I'm Novelle, she said. What can I get you? Catfish po-boy, fries, and a large cup of green tea, Miles replied. Novelle smiled and walked off toward the kitchen. Miles stared out of the window and wondered about this old city that smelled of Death. Did anyone else catch the scent, or was it just him? He pulled out his journal and wrote down anything that came to mind. Selling books. Leaving his home. Arriving in a city that smelled of Death. Novelle soon returned with his meal and set everything down tenderly. Miles thanked her and ate. When he finished, Novelle appeared once more with the check, only to stare at him. You're the book guy, she said in a low tone. The one who sells books to people with no names. Why didn't you stop by, Miles asked her. Because I have my name, Novelle replied, and besides other people needed those books more so than I. She handed him the check and then added - for $100 a month, you can sleep on my couch. And how did you know I needed a couch, Miles replied. Because I can see your soul, Novelle said. 

Six months later, after many nights sleeping on the couch, engaging in late-night conversations fueled with oolong tea, vodka, and water, Miles and Novelle became a couple. Miles continued to sell books in front of the Cathedral and also began accepting books from random strangers. Soon, he had enough to open a small brick-and-mortar called Miles of Books. Novelle continued being a server at Blue Sky because the tips were lovely and every so often, someone paid her with a deck of Tarot cards. One night, as they sat in their now shared apartment, Miles told her the story of how his last painting came alive and wanted him to do terrible things to people. That's what led me here, he said then sipped his gunpowder green tea. Novelle pulled out an African-themed Tarot deck, shuffled the cards, and then did a spread on the coffee table. She flipped each card over, then studied them when she finished. What do the cards say, Miles asked. Novelle looked up with a smile and replied - that a woman has just bought that painting. Miles sipped his tea and sighed.