Don Salzer's first impression of Adam Pierson was none too generous. The boy was huddled in the doorway of the shop with his skateboard leaning against the wall, a dufflebag slung over one shoulder, a backpack on the other. His trenchcoat was soaked and hung on him like an old, worn blanket. His sneakers were well worn and there were holes in his jeans. Blond streaked hair hung limply across his face and he pushed at it in frustration. The earrings were almost the last straw. However, the young man turned and spied the low table of bargain books. His face lit up. The boy noticed the proprietor.
"May I put my things down by the counter, Sir?" he asked politely. Salzer nodded and the boy settled his bags and slipped the board through the straps of the backpack.
"Rev 6:8?" Salzer asked.
"And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth," he quoted. Then he winked. His hair was dripping and he wiped at the trails of rainwater on his cheeks. There was no appreciable difference. His clothing was just as wet as the rest of him. He looked like a drowned rat.
A drowned punk rat.
Who desperately wanted to look at the books, but instead scowled at his wet hands. "Do you have a paper towel? Oh, wait, maybe something in my bag isn't soaked."
"I've a towel. And a back room if you want to get changed."
"That isn't necessary. Just the towel if you would. I don't want the gods to think that I'm stupid enough to tempt Fate twice in one day. I was nice and dry when I started this little adventure."
"Hitchhiking?" Salzer probed. It seemed likely.
The boy snorted. "I wish. No, I'm looking for a room to rent and a job. I've just transferred to the Universite. It seems no one wants to look beyond my hair." He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "But it irritates the teachers so much that I can't bear to give it up just yet." He tugged on one overlong lock as if he were trying to pull it in front of his eyes. His eyes, Don decided, were what made him make the offer.
"How about here? I always need assistance to run this place. I have a cellar that could easily be fixed up as a dorm room. It's dry, warm and available." The boy stared at him, mouth open. Suddenly, a shy smile replaced the gaping.
"My name's Adam Pierson." He shook the bookseller's hand.
"Don Salzer. And in the back is Joe Dawson. Come I'll introduce you." Joe Dawson had a face that guaranteed pranks, the Immortal in Pierson assessed. Methos, the world's oldest Immortal and biggest prankster couldn't wait for the games to begin.
"Nice to meet you," Adam said. He then noted the accent. "You're American?" he blinked. Joe nodded. Adam smiled. "I just transferred from New York City," he informed the men, cheerful now. Don led him down a hidden staircase to a small room. He was right it would make a nice little apartment and better yet, Adam'd be able to get out of his wet clothes. "You don't have to do this."
"Room and board for twenty hours a week in the shop. Anything more than that and we can negotiate. I don't want to impede your studies." Adam was speechless. He looked up with such shocked hazel eyes that Don Salzer felt justified in giving him a smug smile. He had a feeling that it wasn't an expression the young man wore often. "What is your major anyway?"
"Uh. Linguistics," Adam managed to choke out over something akin to giggles in his throat. Oh, if you only knew. Take me away from my studies indeed. I could teach the courses.
"Excellent. Any particular time period?"
"Ancient languages. Sumerian, Phoenician, etc. I also speak several modern languages." He shrugged as if it weren't important. Salzer looked at him. He should have been a strictly preppy, upstanding member of any school that would have him, not a punk.
"Why did you bleach your hair?" he asked suddenly.
"It bothers people. I was bored."
"And what do your parents think?" There was a long hesitation.
"I have a brother, but no other family," he stated, softly. The hazel eyes were full of an unnamed pain. Adam looked away quickly and took off his trenchcoat. He folded it with practiced efficiency and looked around the room. There was already a cot and a desk in the room.
Salzer changed the topic. "I used to use this for overflow, but I've set up another office. You can decorate it any way you like."
TBC