More Than You’d Think.

By William Livingstone.

“That shop,” Cousin Franklin began. “Has more in it than you’d think.”

I nodded my head at his words. Every shop had more in it than you thought until you actually went in there. Then it just had what you saw and not what you’d been imagining before you went in there.

“Now Billy I know what you’re thinking and let me tell you that it’s not just my imagination. Martha Gurnet went into that shop and said she got everything she’d ever had an inclination to buy in a shop.”

I paused in my sewing and looked up at my young relative. “That’s not exactly saying much that we didn’t already use to cut the grass with now is it? She gets exited when her old magazines turn up from in her storeroom every year during that big old clearout they have in the Gurnet household. ‘Oh yes, and this one I remember from back in my salad days!’ You know the more I think about it the more I think that woman was born a radish. A slightly off-colour one at that.”

My cousin was not to be put off, something I’d eventually thank him for but right at that moment I could have been quite happy to take my needle to his buttocks.

“Stop your sewing for a minute and look at me!”

Calmly I took off my thimble and placed my shirt down on my lap, re-arranging it so as not to crease it unnecessarily. “Make…your…point.”

He grinned at me. The sunlight peeking through the blinds brushed over his hair. I smelled sweat, though his or mine I couldn’t be sure.

He lifted one hand and formed it into a loose fist, knuckles and thumb facing inwards.

He ticked off his little finger.

“The shop manager is a man named George, George Chivalrous…”

“Fake.” I said, but nothing more.

Cousin Franklin continued unabated, his second finger coming up as a substitute for the middle in defiance at my interruption. “He sells you anything you have a mind to ask for and has it to hand immediately-as long as it can cause no harm to any pedestrians, mind you, and then he doesn’t sell it.”

I raised my eyebrows and dropped my mouth open in what I thought to be a theatrical manner. “Yeah? Gee whiz, shucks. So does e-bay. Moron.”

“Now there’s no call for that talk, you know as well as I that e-bay does not sell everything. It certainly doesn’t get whatever you want to you straight away and at less than the cost it takes to make it!”

I thought at that point something along the lines of: What on God’s green spunky little earth has my cousin been inhaling? It certainly wasn’t anything you brought in a One-Stop shop. “And,” he said coyly as he ticked off his thumb, his third and last digit on that hand. “I think that small one-room shop is putting all of em’ bigger stores out of business around yonder area.” He waved his other hand around, this one compete with four fingers and a fatter finger that people called a thumb.

I mean, Jesus Christ, have you ever actually looked at your hand and thought about its shape? Its crazy, that’s what it is, weirdest looking thing since John Prescott.

“I mean, doesn’t any of that seem a little weird to you, a little…off colour?”

“Yeah it does Cousin. But hands have always weirded me out; and New Labour. Sorriest bunch of freaks to ever crawl out of the gene pool if you ask…”

Cousin Franklin looked upset about something so I stopped talking and gave him a chance to turn back to a healthy shade of pink.

“I mean the shop, Billy, the shop?” All right he was pissed at me now, I could see that by the way he was folding his arms across his chest and batting his eyelids. I thought that I’d done all of the sewing I was going to get done for the minute.

Maybe I had never been a very good listener but I could at least see what all the fuss was about, if only to stop Cousin Franklin having an embolism. “Alright cus’ you get the kettle on for a bit of O ‘cha and I’ll make sure I’m ready to issue forth from the door the moment we’re finished.” This seemed to please him and he set about making tea for us, green tea to be precise over here, O ‘cha in Japan.

I got all my possessions in order for a shopping spree- wallet, chain, spectacles and most importantly my pocket watch so I could time this George Chivalrous fellow as he set about getting the non-lethal perculiors on my particular shopping list. I felt that my inventive imagination would have this obvious showman scratching his head and running for cover in no time, just like the imposing ape he was.

“Ready Cousin?”

“Cousin, I am.”

And out the door we walked, taking our hats off to Mrs. Hapencrantz who was mending the top of her lavvy in the garden as we went.

Town was the busiest I had seen it in an age. Frightful amounts of the young, middle-aged and decrepit were scattered around the streets as well as a handful of tots nestled in peoples hands or stuck in swaddling with a leather strap hanging from the back. The day was warm without restricting movement and the ability of people to enjoy each others company.

Indeed, the people in town were lively and smiling en masse, something I could never recall seeing since the death of Jimmy ‘the red hand’ fingers.

The thing that stuck out most in my mind as I walked with Cousin Franklin towards our destination was that no-one that I could see was going into any of the shops. Rather, they were going past them in one direction laden with parcels and groceries or filtering to somewhere in quite the opposite direction.

I began to suspect that we weren’t the only ones on a pilgrimage to this bizarre sounding place. As we crossed the boundary into Tillbutter Street, the main trading route of Old City, we saw the front of the new store immediately, small as it was. Dozens of glorious trees stood outside, brightly colored and pleasant to look upon beyond any trees I had seen before, and I had been to New England in the Fall. These trees seemed to be ignorant of the fact that they had grown up through concrete and brick, thrusting both aside to make room for their roots.

People scurried in and out of that shop like bees round a hive, chattering and laughing in the sunshine as they went to and fro. Upon my first glimpse of the exterior I was taken aback slightly. Of the Orange mobile phone shop that had been there before there was not a sign. In its place stood a magnificent wooden front, living by the look of it, and a simple entrance through multi-colored glass beads that tinkled softly against each other as we came within hearing distance.

I spotted various acquaintances of mine in the street but Cousin Franklin was pulling me on and so I had no time for a sane and rational explanation of forthcoming events.

Armed with my shopping list in my good hand and my pocket watch in my off I quickly stepped inside, my nostrils flaring as they sought to drink in the wonderful heady aroma that graced the air.

The Flora inside was as beautiful and unusual as that outside and for a moment I was taken in by it. Then I remembered the beauty of preparation and long-distance delivery and steeled my very soul to do battle for my fellow townsfolk, to thrust the imposter out into the open and thus expose him to our vengeful scrutiny.

“The people are all rather happy with everything I see George.” Commented Franklin.

I wasn’t deterred. He still had me to face.

George turned from whatever menial task of deception he had been performing and fixed his friendly stare upon Cousin Franklin, who beamed back a rather charming smile.

“Ah Franklin, So glad you could come back so soon…” As they exchanged pleasantries I took the opportunity to study the shop, which curiously held no name. Perhaps the crafty devil thought he could evade taxation and other overheads without a trading name. There was one small room in the back which I couldn’t see all the way into without crossing over the counter and I was loathe to do that just yet.

I cast my gaze finally upon the proprietor and his mannerisms as he engaged in an open and seemingly warm conversation with Franklin. No-one else was entering the shop at present, so as yet I was unsure of the tricksters method. Cousin Franklin introduced me to the man in his way, by which I mean he grabbed me by the shoulder and thrust me forwards while calling out my name.

George pumped my hand once with a gentle touch and a smile that seemed real enough on the outside. A well practiced trickster indeed, I thought. I smiled a phony smile back and brought forth my shopping list. His smile did not lessen one bit. “I’d like to purchase a few things from your licensed store, if I may?” He nodded and pointed to a sign that read ‘I do not sell alcohol or cigarettes’ then motioned for me to continue.

I started reading from my list, careful to pronounce my words properly and with full stress given to the appropriate syllables.

“A saddle for riding a Camel, two sushi O’ Bentho’s, forty grams of Saffron, Eighteen different books on sewing, four mobile phones with satellite and internet…”

“They are directly responsible for causing brain damage, I don’t sell them.”

I continued on, aware now that a small crowd had come in behind me. They seemed to be listening with some interest to my requests.

“A Canadian Mounties hat, a 1/400 scale model of the U.S.S Enterprise and two Birds of Paradise.” And that, I thought, ought to be enough to ensure you never do business in this town again.

“Have you got a cage to put those birds in or a spacious back garden where they can fly?” I stumbled slightly, taken aback by this question, but my mind was quick to regroup. Cousin Franklin was watching me with an angry look on his face but I had no time to worry about that now, for I had to speak. “A cage, fairly large and quite cozy.”

“Well then I’m afraid I can’t provide the birds for you Billy.”

Ha! I had him now, I could sense it. Two things already he had wheedled his way out of, the third was sure to follow soon.

“Which Enterprise do you want, the naval one or the Starfleet one?” His smile was still there. Deceptive until the very end I noted with a little thrill of anticipation. I would save my town from this so called trader.

“The naval one please, oh actually both, if you have them.” I added with a cheerful smile, though my cheer was not for his benefit. George disappeared into the back surely to never appear again today while I turned to explain myself to my neighbors and city-folk, who seemed to be pointing to a spot over my shoulder. Or rather person, I saw as I spun around, pocket watch ticking rapidly in my hand. He had been all of five seconds and he was carrying a large box in his hands while a saddle rested on one shoulder.

I tried to convince myself that it was for a horse, but even I had my doubts when he started to pull the other items from the box.

“Two scale models of two Enterprises, both 1/400 scale. The saddle, two Sushi lunchboxes, forty grams of Saffron, eighteen different books on sewing and one Canadian Mounties hat. That, my good patron, comes to a total of nineteen pounds and fifty-two pence.”

I fainted dead away, although at the price or the sight of the items I will never be quite sure.

Cool liquid was trickling down my throat. Reality spun under my back and buttocks for a second until the fluids reached my stomach and seemed to settle me down. I opened my eyes to see Cousin Franklin holding me in his arms, a worried look on his face.

“That’s free of charge to you Billy, anyone who needs medicine in my store will always receive it free of charge. That goes for prescription eye and dental wear too.” The voice belonged to George Chivalrous who was hidden somewhere beyond the very large oval of Cousin Franklin’s face.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled, unaware I was going to say the words until they were out.

“There, there lad, it’s alright. No-one blames you for not wanting to see another way.”

Franklin moved out of the way slightly and the warm face of Mr. Chivalrous came into view, as well as a few ladies and gentlemen gathered around the doorway.

“But that is a story for another time. Right now you have some possessions to take home with you. You are welcome to come back anytime you’d like.” He really meant it, too. I could read it in his face now that he’d turned out to be an honest tradesman. It was like a dark cloud had been covering up the sun in the sky.

“I’d really like to, and soon too!” I got up with the help of my cousin and we made our exit. My head felt wonderful and clear. That liquid had remedial and restorative qualities like nothing else I’d slid down my gullet.

Cousin Franklin started jabbering away as soon as we entered the street but I was too deep in thought to pay much attention to him. We carried my new purchases between us, Franklin admiring the scale model of the space-worthy Enterprise and wearing the hat.

Along the streets we were just one more pair of people with our goods, traipsing home or to the park as many seemed to be. As I said before, it was a warm day without being too warm and some had new sports equipment that they very much wanted to try.

No-one spared a glance for the other shops along the way. I felt that I knew why now.

I opened the door and practically jumped inside with my keenness. For, you see, all the things I had asked for I actually had always dearly wanted, well, except perhaps for the phones. I never really wanted even one of them but I felt like I had to have one in today’s frightfully modern clime.

We spent the rest of the night in restful conversation, Cousin Franklin and I.

The next morning saw us outside the shop, sitting on one of the large roots and enjoying a fragrant breeze filtering through the overhanging branches. Horatio Feldman was picking up his weekly food shop and afterwards he came out to join us and show us what he’d bought.

“Look at the quality chaps, I must say it’s a real pleasure to look at food that stirs you to want to thank bounteous nature for it.” Everything Horatio had was wrapped in a strange packaging unlike any I had seen before. I said so to Horatio who replied in a way that suggested he was having trouble digesting his own explanation.

“This packaging is without apparent design, I’d say it’s made from something that is highly bio-degradable after you have finished with the food inside. Goodness knows that man is a genius of modern production methods already.”

At this we fell silent. Cousin Franklin had quit his job, which he had hated beyond reasoning, and so had no-where he needed to be this morning. Several men and women in black suits were watching us from across the road. Us, and the shop entrance, gauging something by the looks of things. I paid them no mind and leaned back against the tree and put the final touch on my damaged shirt, which I had brought with me.

“There!” I exclaimed, beaming. “Finished at last!” And so my shirt was. Beautifully mended if I did say so myself.

Well in all tales there must be an ending and that is certainly the case in this one, whether for good or ill. The beginning of the end came with a number of police cars pulling up outside and disgorging officers of various rank and armament, mostly mace and nightsticks. We stood and watched as they went inside hup-hupping away as fast as their pot-bellies could sustain, quite confused and taken aback at the suddenness of the whole thing.

We entered the shop to the sound of a stern voice reading out what seemed to be a notice of forced closure, by authority of the city council or some such good for nothing organization. The voice claimed that the store owner was “operating under false premises of trade and may be involved in certain illegal operations, and that means, George Chivalrous, that you best be making post haste off our street!”

George drew himself up straight and winked at the customers, who looked angry to say the least that this fountain of decent taste and substantial and meaningful savings was going to be closed down on the whim of those in charge.

“What illegal operations are these, PC 125 Brice?” No fault there, English Bobbies had to have their number before their name in the service of their country. Made filling in forms easier or some such nonsense. “Well, show us the back room for a start.”

“I will if you invite those people out there to come in and watch.” Upon noticing that they had been noticed the group of shady looking characters outside tried to slip away. But they were not fast enough to avoid the call of the large lungs of the law.

These people were ushered inside looking more furtive than a rabbit in a cage full of starving lions. “I see that big business has had their hands in this pie. Nothing ever changes for you people really does it? Always trying to make sure of your profit margins and other words that mean you get rich you forget that other people are the same as you and deserve maybe a little more.” He frowned and shook his head. The corporate heads were not silent though, and spoke up quickly in their own defense. “We feel that certain steps need to be taken to remove you from this respectable premises for legitimate commercial trade.”

Well as you can expect George frowned a little at this but seemed to take heart from something and so pulled himself together with little noticeable effort. His face had the tranquility that suggested he was a person of great emotional calm, while being efficient and planned in his actions.

I was hoping for something a little special from him, and I sensed that I was going to see it soon. Cousin Franklin tipped me a wink.

The folk from the force and the stronger force of business went through escorted by George. They soon stormed out with a little hat and a small wand that looked to be tipped with a diamond held before them. “We suspected as much, Sorcery!” Proclaimed one.

“Officer, arrest that Wizard!” Demanded another, his jolly face shining with cruel happiness. George still looked calm as ever. The chap was quite impressive under pressure, it appeared.

“Well sair, any comment before I put you in cuffs for illegal wizardry?”

“If you could just prove that I am a wizard. That hat belonged to my father and the wand is very useful for clearing spiders-nets from above my bed.” The goons looked a bit taken aback. Proof hadn’t really seemed necessary what with the hat and all but the law was the law, sadly.

“Ok, show us some magic. I’m warning you though it better not be dangerous or I’ll be of a good mind to call in Fred with his Alsatian from the station.” When he saw that Mr. Chivalrous didn’t look very intimidated he added a team of professional wizard assassins to the order.

George picked up the hat and the wand and grimaced. The suits rubbed their hands together briskly, obviously tasting next month’s pay-rise already. I couldn’t understand why people salivated over money personally. Stuff tasted dreadful unless it was a really boiled down note of promise. The trees outside began to sing softly into the air, beautiful, trembling notes that made the heart soar and the mind calm and at peace.

George was waving his wand back and forth like a conductor in the air, the bag sticking out of one pocket, obviously not needed for this particular spell.

Some words were mumbled and there was a flash of light and the taste of peaches in our mouths.

I took an involuntary step backwards as my vision sought to clear the light that had suddenly coalesced in the room. All of the people who had come to challenge George appeared to be wearing loose Hawaiian shirts and baggy trousers or half-lengths.

Even the police, some of which now sported wrap around shades and genuine straw hats, the sort you would expect to see on a white beach while visiting another country.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to lose it’s charge and menace just drained away as if a plug had been, well, unplugged, for lack of a better explanation.

The dude who had been the chief officer in the arrest took one look at us and vanished out of the door, a massive smile on his face. He hugged the first person he came to and pretty soon they all were, much to my own and Cousin Franklin’s pleasure.

George had put away his magical aids when we turned back, questions on the tips of our tongues about to be blurted out. He answered them for us, a knowing smile on his face as he scratched the chin of a small fuzzy monkey that had appeared on his shoulder, a reduced size banana clutched in one tiny hand.

“They’ll be okay. I revealed to them how life could be and they all chose it for themselves. Only the truly evil refuse the goodness within completely.” He sighed and moved to the window. Our fellow’s stood with us to see what he would do next. Something remained strangely unfinished, it seemed to us. The world just didn’t go on after magic like that was revealed, did it?

It did though, and as I look back upon those first few weeks with George in town I’ll always remember the extra weight that seemed to have vanished from around our shoulders. The trees expanded and grew out in all directions and one year we were suddenly walking through a forest to reach the store. The shops had emptied and closed down eventually. Even the mobile phone stores. George’s carrier pigeons had been far more popular in the end and although at times they were inefficient we lived through it and laughed, watching them nestle on a branch sticking out of our tree-top houses George had helped us plan and move into.

The Old City soon became New City, full of new growth and vibrant life every where you could look. Children took delight in nature again as I reached my golden years and I rejoiced at the grass growing each spring, never having felt the twinges of arthritis that would have come the previous winter if not for George’s magic touch.

The man never aged that I could see but I didn’t envy him, for it was a sad thing to watch the flowers bloom, knowing that they would one day die. But every spring he smiled so when he walked the tranquil paths of the town he had helped create.

And that is my tale of how things became. I now finish this sitting in a field as Franklin joins in the mirth with a group of adorable monkey’s and children, although it would be hard to say out of the two groups which was the most lively when it came to playfulness.

I would say more, but there is a path that we want to walk along today that used to be a motorway, and you must excuse me for leaving you here.