Feeling Very Strange - Site de Thomas - Free

the little Magic shop | 23
“Yes, I’ve returned for my — ”
“I know, I know.” Mr. O’Beronne stirred fitfully on his cushions. “I
see you’ve met my. . .associate. Mr. Ferry.”
“I kind of manage the place, these days,” said Mr. Ferry. He winked
at James, behind Mr. O’Beronne’s back.
“I’m James Abernathy,” James said. He offered his hand.
Ferry folded his arms warily. “Sorry, I never do that.”
O’Beronne cackled feebly and broke into a fit of coughing. “Well, my
boy,” he said finally, “I was hoping I’d last long enough to see you one
more time. . . Mr. Ferry! There’s a crate, in the back, under those filthy
movie posters of yours. . . .”
“Sure, sure,” Ferry said indulgently. He left.
“Let me look at you,” said O’Beronne. His eyes, in their dry, leaden
sockets, had grown quite lizardlike. “Well, what do you think of the
place? Be frank.”
“It’s looked better,” James said. “So have you.”
“But so has the world, eh?” O’Beronne said. “He does bang-up business,
young Ferry. You should see him manage the books. . . .”
He waved one hand, its tiny knuckles warped with arthritis. “It’s
such a blessing, not to have to care anymore.”
Ferry reappeared, lugging a wooden crate, crammed with dusty sixpacks
of pop-top aluminum cans. He set it gently on the counter.
Every can held Youthing Water. “Thanks,” James said, his eyes widening.
He lifted one pack reverently, and tugged at a can.
“Don’t,” O’Beronne said. “This is for you, all of it. Enjoy it, son. I
hope you’re satisfied.”
James lowered the cans, slowly. “What about our arrangement?”
O’Beronne’s eyes fell, in an ecstasy of humiliation. “I humbly apologize.
But I simply can’t keep up our bargain any longer. I don’t have the
strength, you see. So this is yours now. It’s all I could find.”
“Yeah, this must be pretty much the last of it,” nodded Ferry,
inspecting his nails. “It hasn’t moved well for some time — I figure the
bottling plant shut up shop.”
“So many cans, though. . .” James said thoughtfully. He produced his
wallet. “I brought a nice car for you, outside. . . .”
“None of that matters now,” said Mr. O’Beronne. “Keep all of it, just