Page 249 of Something Rad
I used to come to this area all the time with my mom when I was younger, especially since Dolly’s Diner where she works is right down the street, but it’s been quite a while since the last time we each had a day off and time to spend together. From what I can tell, the square looks a little different than I remember, a few of the shops having switched out and others gone entirely. The fact that it’s nearly black outside doesn’t help me much in knowing for sure though. Since it’s nearly ten on a Monday night, the place is a ghost town, all of the business closed and lights shut off. If we stayed here long enough, I half wonder if I’d see a tumbleweed roll by.
Robbie shuts the engine off once he’s parked against the curb, and he opens his door, motioning for me to do the same.
I follow his lead, walking up to the front door of the business just to the side of his car. It’s hard to read the writing on the door in the dark, but, when I glance up at the wooden hanging sign above us, I find the cut-out of a record hanging down.
“Where are we?” I ask. “A record store?”
Robbie leans in towards the front door, cupping his hands around his face and peering inside. “You know Billy Montgomery?” he asks, pulling back from the door once I assume he’s confirmed the store is empty.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Well,” he says, standing up on his tiptoes, reaching up and running his hand across the top of the door frame. “This may be his older sister’s shop.”
“Oh?”
“And I may just know that she leaves a spare key out.”
I raise my brows at him. “From previous experience?”
A grin flashes across Robbie’s face as his arm stills. He drops back flat on his feet, flashing me a little gold key. “Perhaps,” he says.
I shake my head as Robbie moves to unlock the door. “Is this a good idea?” I ask. “I mean, do you have permission to be in there?”
“Well, considering that Billy has permission to be in there, and considering that he has previously brought me and some of the guys here after hours…” Robbie stops speaking for a moment, waiting for the lock to click. “I’d say that basically means yes.” A huge smile spreads across his face as he reaches for the door knob, turning it and pushing the door open. He motions his arm in a grand gesture, inviting me to walk inside.
“I’m not sure Billy’s sister would agree with you. Or the police,” I chuckle, walking past him in the doorway.
“But you’ll go with it?” Robbie asks, closing the door behind him.
“Don’t I always?”
Robbie uses the dim light of the single street lamp outside to find his way behind the check-out counter, flipping on a couple of light switches so that we’re not in complete darkness anymore. When he does, the bright red and black mural readingMonty’s Recordsis illuminated on the wall behind the counter. I stand back, admiring it as Robbie moves over to where the nicest record player setup I think I’ve ever seen in person is sitting just to the side of the painting, getting it started up.
“Pick a record, Cooper,” Robbie says.
“Uh, me?”
He turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Is there another Cooper here I should know about?”
“No,” I laugh. “I just never thought you’d pass over the responsibility of picking out music to me.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this much power,” I say. “I’m not sure what to do with it.”
Robbie shakes his head, hiding a grin. “Walk your pretty ass around this store and bring me something to play. Today, please.”
“Fine, but only because you said I was pretty.” I bat my eyelashes dramatically, ignoring his snort of laughter as I spin away, making my way into the aisles of records to choose from.
It only takes a minute or so of perusing the options until my gaze lands on one of the records I was hoping to find. I reach forward, plucking the black and white album from its place on the shelf and working my way back over to Robbie, proudly holding it out to him like a child showing one of their parents their latest art project from school.
Robbie’s eyebrows raise when his eyes land on the record, looking from it up to me. “Tears For Fears?” he asks.
“Mhmm,” I nod, crossing my arms and leaning against the table the record player is set up on.
Robbie lets out a whistle. “Songs from the Big Chair. Great choice, Cooper.”
“I know, right?”
