Page 53 of It's Me They Follow
we are completely capable
completely capable
our minds are focused
we’re ready, creative, unyielding, mature
you hear the whispers?
those are the ancient voices
speaking prophesy in my left ear
spirituals singing songs in my subconscious mind
we’re building bridges with our tongues
we’re opening doors with our third eye
it’s me they follow
it’s me they follow
it’s me they follow.
The group propped one another up as The Shopkeeper finished.
“‘It’s me they follow,’” they repeated as four large blackbirds circled over them. Her words had taken on a life of their own. The Shopkeeper came back over and joined her friends.
The ceremony was finished, and the birds flew away.
“This is for you.” TheShopkeeper handed the teenybopper a blank leather-bound journal from her collection. “In case you want to join the next session of our writers’ group at my new bookshop, Harriett’s.”
The teenybopper’s eyes got wide, and her mouth got big. “I knew it was you,” she whispered.
“You knew before I did,” The Shopkeeper agreed, and promised to stay in touch.
“Wait, wait,” Lil Charlie declared as they were about to walk back to their cars. “I have something important to say.”
“Then say it,” The Shopkeeper said.
“Stop walking.” Lil Charlie held his hands up and stopped the group from moving. “I want to be up-front about the fact that I am in love with Rose.” No one was surprised; they had seen it in his eyes. “I love her, and not like a friend.” Rose blushed. “And one more thing: Just call me Charlie from now on. I’m not Lil Charlie; I’m not Big Charlie. I am just Charlie.”
Rose was red. She put her hand out to his.
“We got you, Charlie.” Ray nodded, and The Shopkeeper agreed.
Chapter 28
JANUARY 30, 2020
9:33 A.M.
Rose, Charlie, and Ray stopped by the bookshop to help The Shopkeeper unpack the truck, which was overstuffed with a colorful assortment of furniture that no one thought would look good together until she worked her design magic in the room.
“What about this?” Charlie asked as he helped her place an eight-foot-tall grandfather clock next to her desk.
“Too close. Over an inch,” The Shopkeeper explained. “I don’t want them to touch.”
