Horneus and I rode to ‘Ms. Redler’s Pawn Shop’. Owned and operated by a single woman in her early thirties, she was pretty successful and the closer of the two pawn shops in town. We arrived at a quarter to three.
I left poor Horneus outside in a side alley (he was sad to be left behind) and entered. I saw a wiry brunette with he hair in a high bun reading a book behind the counter. She peered over her glasses as the bell above the door tinkled.
“Hello, can I help you?” she greeted with a kind tone. She would make a great storyteller or maybe a teacher.
“Yes, hello, I was wondering if you had an upgraded spy set.” I asked. My parents told me after Christmas that they had gotten it from a pawn shop, though they never specified which one.
“Actually, I might have just the thing…just give me a second…to …check…,” she scurried about the organized yet slightly cramped store, peeking here and there and in between. As she did, I wandered aimlessly around; looking at whatever caught my fancy. In fact, that was almost everything as I’m an observant person. Just imagine a bunch of stuff that was neatly stacked; shiny, old, ancient (yes, there IS a difference), perfumed, hand-made, and factory-made items covered the shelves. A few minutes later, she returned to the desk in the back.
“Well, I’m afraid I was thinking of this.” Ms. Redler held up a book titled ‘How To Pick A Lock: The Complete Instruction Manual.’
“Is this all you have?” I asked doubtfully. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it could prove useful.
“Well….” She hesitated, “perhaps the other pawn shop down the street has something.” It was obvious she didn’t want to lose any business.
“Actually, I’ll take that,” I said with a small smile. Might as well not hurt her feelings too badly.
“Great! I’ll ring it up for you.” She briskly walked behind the counter and to the register. I got out my purse, hoping Horneus wasn’t getting impatient. Mind you, it was more of a wallet; dark brown with a strap that goes around my wrist. I would never be caught dead with an actual girly handbag.
As I was leaving the store, I heard a little kid screaming. It was extremely annoying, and I wish it would stop. Unfortunately, the parent was too busy staring open-mouthed at Horneus, who in turn was giving her a quizzical look.
“Excuse me ma’am, but Horneus does not appreciate your child whaling into his sensitive ears,” I informed her in as polite a tone as I could mange.
Now she was just staring at me.
But the little girl, seeing that the giant rhino in front of her had a name, stopped crying. Ms. Redler came outside with a lollipop and surprisingly, was not scared of Horneus. There was no way she couldn’t have missed him, as he was taking up half the sidewalk. She rushed over and immediately starting cuddling the child.
For the first time, someone actually noticed Horneus’s special saddle.
“Is that a saddle? On a rhino?” asked Ms. Redler. The mother finally stopped glaring at me, hurriedly thanked the shop owner, grabbed her child, and left.
“I see you like children,” I commented.
“I see you like rhinos,” she remarked back. I grinned. I liked her attitude.
‘Personally, I can’t stand them myself,” I continued. “But some people surround their entire lives to snotty little brats. Or clean little brats, depending on the parent.”
“Well, my love of my shop outshines my love of children or waterskiing.”
“You water-ski?”
“I dabble.” Okay, now she was bragging. Yet she constantly had that sparkle of amusement in her green eyes.
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