In great distress, Daniel rummaged around for the missing books. He had been tasked with shelving the first shipment of a new novel, Whimsy’s End, by the elusive author C.A. Saenz. A sort of nonsense surrealist novel, so he heard. Yet, to his dismay, the books were nowhere to be found.
The bookstore where he worked, The Foggy Lantern, was a small but prominent establishment in the quaint town of Stromwood. He couldn’t delay. He searched under staircases, desks, and in the various stacks of books. After a sleepless week, he could almost hear voices as he looked through the shelves, like characters begging for attention. Despite his efforts, he could not find the copies he was responsible for. He couldn’t bear the thought of failing a task.
He himself had been mailed an advance review copy of Whimsy’s End weeks ago. A copy gifted to him due to his growing reputation as a small critic. A copy he hadn’t read yet. However, he did manage to spill some wine on the cover. At first, his only concern was in writing a subpar review, but at this stage he could only hope to minimize the damage to his reputation.
Daniel had always finished his reviews punctually, if only barely. He’d obsessively chase the hidden details of a novel for weeks. Only then would he feel confident enough to finish his task. Often the deeper meanings would elude him, remaining just out of reach before stumbling into his hands. He wanted to prove he had something to say, in a way only he could say it. After all, no two people had the same experience with a book. For whatever reason, he hadn’t brought himself to read Whimsy’s End. But that wasn’t his most pressing issue.
Just as he was about to conduct a second round of searching, the front door chimed. In floated his overbearing manager, Vanesta. She placed a stack of books on the counter as she noticed him shrinking behind the desk. She looked around with an air of disapproval.
“I seem to have misplaced the new book,” stammered Daniel, his face turning pale.
Vanesta formed the beginning of a smile. “You’re too much of a perfectionist. There wasn’t any new release.”
He wanted to pretend she was right. That the book hadn’t been released yet. That there was more time to write his review. But that would be too good to be true. He hurried to where the book was supposed to be shelved. However, the label had disappeared.
“But…Whimsy’s End? C.A. Saenz?” Daniel protested.
Vanesta waved her hand dismissively. “That author hasn’t written anything in years. Don’t give yourself more work.”
Daniel nodded weakly. He spent the rest of his shift in a fog of bewilderment, unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss. He even remembered what the book’s cover looked like: a sleek blue weave on an orange background. He checked in the system, but there was no record of it.
At the end of his shift, Daniel hurried home and booted up his creaky laptop. His fingers trembled as he searched for any mention of Whimsy’s End. Maybe there was a recall. Maybe Vanesta was messing with him. He even looked on the author’s website. She was right. This Mr. Saenz hadn’t written anything in years. There were whispers of a new project, but nothing similar to this phantom novel. No reviews. No listings. Daniel’s advance copy was also missing, prompting him to file a report with the security officer. After thoroughly checking his apartment, he went to sleep.
Daniel had the next day off. To clear his mind, he wandered the streets of Stromwood. He carried his book bag downtown in case he found anything rare in his weekly search. Yet, as he strolled past the old cobblestones and eerie lampposts, something caught his eye. A flicker of orange beamed in the periphery of his vision. He turned, and there, standing on the curb was a book of Daniel’s size, hailing a cab as a leisurely gentleman would.
Without thinking, Daniel ran in front of the cab. He dashed toward the book and turned it around by its corner. He realized the book had a slight stain on its cover. Wine. A series of sticky notes were jammed between its pages, nearly reaching its finale. He couldn’t make out any of the writing on the notes, but he could tell they were thorough.
“Excuse me! I’ve already claimed this cab!” The book bellowed at him.
“But you’re a book, my book! And you belong in here!” Daniel pointed inside his book bag. He wondered if his lack of sleep had finally caught up to him.
“You won’t catch me that easily! I’m not some dime-store trash!”
Daniel didn’t know what to make of this exclamation, but he knew he needed his book back.
“What’s the problem?” the cab driver asked.
“This man wants me to jump into his bag like a common item!” the book declared, straightening up its spine with anger.
“That’s akin to kidnapping!” the cab driver yelled.
With this accusation, Daniel backed away. “Don’t you see what he is?” he asked as he stepped onto the sidewalk.
“A customer!” the cab driver yelled as he sped off with the book.
Daniel walked up to an onlooker, eager for another opinion. He couldn’t believe he was the only person who found the encounter fantastical.
“Did you see that just now? A book behaving rudely?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t trying to be rude. You must have misunderstood it. Don’t make assumptions,” replied the man.
“But…it was my size. And it hailed a cab.”
The man had already walked away, leaving Daniel alone.
Undeterred, Daniel visited the headquarters of The Stromwood Press, the local newspaper. He was sure they had planned to write a review of the very book that now taunted him. But when he inquired within, the staff insisted that no such book existed.
“I just saw that book enter a cab,” Daniel announced in the office of one of the editors, where a small crowd had formed.
“What kind of book is it?” the editor asked.
The trite nature question took Daniel by surprise. “Nonsense. Maybe surrealism. I don’t know, I haven’t read it. That was my advance copy that sped off!”
The staff stifled a collective outburst of laughter. One of them composed himself enough to speak.
“Have you ever heard of such a thing? A nonsense book hailing a cab! What’s next…a fantasy book filing taxes?”
The room erupted into laughter, facilitating Daniel’s speedy exit.
Daniel headed back to his apartment, where he was greeted by the security officer who had accepted his theft report. He handed Daniel a hard copy of Whimsy’s End, of normal size. The officer explained that he had found it attempting to board a train headed for a small town upstate. A town with no presses or significant critics. He immediately recognized the book as his advance copy, stuffed to the brim with sticky notes. Dazed, he stared at the cover, trying to convince himself that it was real.
The book seemed to grow heavier as if filled with the weight of all the questions protruding from it. The officer walked away, leaving Daniel to absorb the spectacle by himself. He went inside but was too tired to investigate further.
Exhausted, he drifted into a chaotic slumber. His dreams filled with images of books marching down the streets of Stromwood, each one tipping its hat to him as it passed. He awoke to a message from Vanesta instructing him to finish stocking the copies of Whimsy’s End by the end of his shift.
Through blurry eyes, he could see that he had left his copy of the novel on the nightstand. He pulled up his laptop and searched for it again, finding headlines for various early reviews in the results.
“So someone read it, at least.”
The weight of his failure mixed with his confusion over the previous day’s events. He pulled at his memory, trying to make sense of what had transpired, but couldn’t find any revealing details.
Anxious to see what others had said about Whimsy’s End, he pulled up a review. To his astonishment, his own name greeted him from the top of the page. Below it followed a review fantastically detailing the dubious nature of the new novel.
Artwork by: Walter Gramatté
