Saturn
• • •
Today, I woke up at 4:07 am.
The pit of grief in my stomach pressed me to the bed for an hour before I could bear to move. Calvin was not dead, but he was gone and had left me with no indication of when or if he might return. Therefore, grief was the only emotion I could muster.
I was not sure why I was grieving Calvin. He was nothing but a menace to me the past few days. Perhaps his mysterious departure had sent it over the edge. I was working at the shop every night this week because of his absence. I would miss his company, no matter how aggravating it may have been at times.
By October fifth, I had finished every book on the leftmost shelf of the store. Apart from those at the very top, which I could not reach. We'd also gained a new employee since Calvin's disappearance; Alice. I liked Alice. That was why I'd taken it upon myself to hire her. I knew she was a part of the English program, as I'd noticed her unique appearance a few times during classes. The day she wandered into the shop searching for work, my world brightened ever so slightly.
"Books are my personality," Alice answered, when I asked her why she'd like to work at the shop. Her response made me grin. I hired her on the spot.
"I like your shirt," I said, unsure of how else to spark conversation. Alice's shirt appeared to be hand knitted or crocheted.
"Thanks, I made it myself," Alice replied.
"You made it?"
"Mhm."
Alice and I would make great friends.
I was much less busy now that I could give away some of the week's shifts to Alice. Plus, now I wouldn't be alone all the time. Calvin only had Zaire working two out of the five days on the schedule, with me working every night until closing hour. It was mental, but at least now I had Alice.
Her appearance matched the shop's aesthetic perfectly. She circled through a collection of handcrafted clothing as the week progressed, and somehow managed to produce innovative styles on her cropped dirty blonde hair. She was creativity in human form.
"Saturn, what do you think?" Alice asked midway through the week. I grinned at her display. Alice's Picks.
"It's perfect," I said, "put it next to mine." I enjoyed taking up a leadership role at the shop now that Calvin was out of the picture. I knew he would scold me for hiring Alive without his permission, but I no longer cared what he thought. He wasn't here, so therefore he had no say. I needed company, and Alice was perfect.
But even with Alice, something was off at Kenton now that Calvin was gone. Perhaps I felt strange because of the absence of his powerful gaze on my shoulders as I worked. Everything was different now. Getting off the bus without him and fearing the darkness again, having to stand on a stool to reach the tops of the shop windows. Immersing myself into new worlds every day through books was a great distraction. I did not miss Calvin, but his absence was loud. It was difficult for me to push him from the forefront of my mind.
"Who is Calvin, anyway?" Alice asked, tearing me from my thoughts of him.
"He's our boss," I said spitefully, "don't bother trying to befriend him. He really doesn't want to be here most of the time, he only is because his mother owns the shop."
"He sounds like a prick," Alice wrinkled her nose, "who wouldn't want to work here? It's such a beautiful shop."
I nodded. It was hard talking about Calvin. Since he'd left, it sometimes felt like he only existed in my head. It was odd to imagine that he had once been here in physical form, not the imaginative one I saw him in now. Sometimes, I pictured him at the desk. He would shoot me familiar glances as I worked. It comforted me, and it shouldn't have.
"Where do you think he is, anyway?" Zaire asked me one night as we swept the shop before closing. I shrugged off the question. He was Calvin, and I had no idea where he could be. He could have been across the world. He could have been visiting his parents, or maybe a sick relative. Either way, I could do nothing more than feel curious. Calvin would never trust me with anything other than closing his mother's shop.
"You miss him, don't you?" Zaire asked.
"No," I muttered, annoyed by his pestering.
"Yes you do," Zaire smiled, "you are...quieter than usual. Not as radiant."
"Thanks," I rolled my eyes.
"You know what I mean," Zaire chuckled, hugging my shoulders. Zaire was a hugger, and I was too.
I would never admit how I truly felt. That I was grieving him, longing for him to come home.
I missed Calvin.