The Clock Winked (The Sagittan Chronicles Book 2) Read Free Page B

blennies!” he exclaimed when he saw the number of
people waiting. “Let's put out some boxes for them to dig through while we get
ready to open.”
    He stood, walked over to the door, and opened it a crack.
    “I'm so glad you're re-opening, young man!” an elderly
gentleman with wire-rimmed glasses exclaimed. “Our book club has been missing
this place for many years!” He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “We’ve
been boycotting because didn’t like the other Oliphant fellow very much.”
    “It's my pleasure, sir.” Auvek raised his voice. “If you all
don't mind, could you step back for a moment? We are bringing out some boxes.
Feel free to browse while you wait.”
    A murmur rushed through the crowd.
    “Opening before opening! Good
heavens!”
    “Anything good?”
    “Hasn't been a sale since Oliphant the
thirty-first!”
    “Inside will be better.”
    “Always put the worthless junk outside.”
    “Twenty-seven used to tell us to steal it!”
    “Old rascal!”
    Auvek set the boxes down on the sidewalk well out of the way
of the door, slipped back inside, and took a deep breath. Turning to Bronwyn,
he said, “Let's roll. Boot up both registers. No need to assist anyone, we'll
let them free-for-all.”
    “You're the boss.” The counter was still covered with books,
so Bronwyn began to clean it off. “We've got ten minutes until actual open. Anything else to do?”
    “I guess not. I thought no one would show up, but word must
spread fast around here.”
    “Probably a book club phone tree,” said Bronwyn, giving a
small chuckle.
    At eight o’clock sharp Auvek opened the door. A flood of
people rushed into the shop, talking animatedly and immediately gravitating
towards the discount shelves.
    “Never since I've been alive has an Oliphant opened the shop
on time!” an elderly woman announced loudly.
    “Upon my word,” another old woman added, “I've never seen
such a young Oliphant doing so well!”
    “In all my years,” a silver-haired man interjected, “I've
never seen such low prices. Oliphant was a stickler for keeping his money! A tight-wad, that old geezer!”
    “Which old geezer you talking about?” someone shouted.
“They're all old geezers!”
    A chorus of laughter filled the shop.
    “Young man, are you an Oliphant?” An elderly man in a suit
and wearing a monocle hobbled up to the desk. He leaned heavily on an ornately
carved cane with a gold handle.
    “Yessir. Auvek
Oliphant the thirty-seventh.”
    A hush fell over the shop.
    “Auvek? An accountant?” the man
asked.
    “Yessir. I'm doing an internship
with my Uncle William.”
    “Ah.” The noise level in the shop resumed to normal. The man
scratched his nose. “Well, where is the young fellow?”
    The bell dinged. In stumbled Oliphant,
shirtless and with a plastic cup over his fist. “People
in my shop. Whoa. Who are you?” He stared at Auvek, moving his face
closer and closer, leaning precariously over the counter. His breath reeked of
alcohol.
    “Auvek. Your
intern.”
    “Oliphant, Oliphant, funny, funny Oliphant,” Oliphant sang.
    “You're drunk. Go to bed,” Auvek ordered him.
    “Nephey-poo telling me what to do,” he continued singing. “ Me do what I want to doooo!” He ended with a flourish,
waving his arm through the air and then slapping the counter clumsily. Then he
giggled and lay down in the middle of the floor. In seconds he was fast asleep.
    Auvek sighed. “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, while we take
care of this little problem. Feel free to keep browsing.”
    “We could put him in there,” Bronwyn suggested, pointing at
the door Oliphant had forbidden him to open.
    “He told me not to open that door. I’m not sure it’s such a
good idea…”
    “Well, what else are we supposed to do with him?” Bronwyn
put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. “It would take hours to drag
him outside and to his house, assuming he has one around here somewhere. And we
have customers