Sunrise Sunset

It was gentile and innocent, a firm pressure that held an unspoken promise and a silent vow. It was everything she had dreamt her first kiss should be, full of tenderness and devotion.

When he left her side she was standing in the hallway and the clock chimed 12. Sarah ran upstairs to check on Toby.

He slept holding Lancelot in his arms. Sarah smiled and smoothed his hair. “He is yours now Toby. Love him.” She left the room so she wouldn’t disturb her little brother. When she returned to her room she started to pack away some of the items she didn’t need.

That had been 7 years ago. In those 7 years Sarah had grown some, and matured as well. But the memory of that perfect kiss haunted her. The vow of returning for her kept Sarah wondering.

Toby was now in school full time and Sarah had just finished a business course at the local community college. Sarah now spent most of her time at home with her family or in the little bookshop she helped to run with an elderly woman named Dee.

Sarah started to work in the bookshop shortly after she and Toby returned from their adventures. Sarah felt she had found a kindred spirit in Dee.

Dee who was almost ninety was still very alert and active. She had opened Sunrise Sunset bookstore thirty years ago. “ I bought the book store after my late husband passed away. I felt I needed something to keep me busy as I didn’t have any children.” Dee would tell anyone who asked. She would switch needles and continue her knitting. “He loved his books so much, he taught me to love them as well. He showed me the power of dreaming.” Her hazel eyes would shine at the memory and she would blush slightly. Sarah hoped that she herself would still be caught up in lafteafter so many years.

Sarah’s father and stepmother were still very much in love. Their and Dee’s example made Sarah hopeful that she too would find her “perfect someone”. Though her memories kept her wondering if she would find him here.

Sarah’s family did wonder why she didn’t date or socialize much. Her father would keep asking her if she wanted to go and try new things. Travel the world or go to University. But Sarah was content in the life she was leading.

“Daddy, I’m happy. I’ve gone to college and done the student thing. Dee and I are talking about me taking over the store. That is enough for me right now.” Her father would shrug and say she was trying to grow up too fast. Sarah would give him a giant hug and tell him she would always be is little girl.

Karen would voice her concerns about Sarah’s lack of a social life. “You can’t really be enjoying living at home with your parents and a young child. Sarah, don’t you want to try and be with people your own age? Don’t you want to go out and date?”

“I’m waiting for Mr Right.” Sarah would say, usually while drying the dinner dishes. “I want to be as happy as you and Daddy are. That is worth waiting for.” Karen would understand what Sarah was meaning.
“Plus I’ve got Toby and who could want more in a guy? He is cute and sweet, though he can be a little hyper and possessive about his toys. But what man isn’t?” and she and Karen would share the female bonding moment of trying to understand why men might get older but never grow up.

On and on Sarah’s daily life progressed, at an uneventful pace and perfectly at peace. Sarah did try to date but the guys she saw were a shadow of her memories. The elusive Goblin King dominated her dreams. The past month or so the dreams had grown more frequent and vivid.

She was searching again. What she was looking for was not important; she just had to find it. He was there too, her mysterious hero, pale and ethereal hanging on the edges of her vision. The room was white and surrounded in silk. The soun gla glass tinkling and muted laughter followed her hunt.
Just beyond her reach was a marble table dressed for an elegant banquette with silver candlesticks and crystal goblets. He stood behind the table, holding a glass half-filled with wine in a silent greeting.

As she approached the table it vanished and there was nothing but air between them. She looked down to her feet and noticed a table design on the floor in an intricate mosaic. When she looked up he was gone. Seeking him, she turned in a slow circle. The room had changed again.

The walls were high and people dressed in flamboyant outfits surround her. Music overwhelmed her and she tried to push through the crowd. After struggling through the throng for what seemed like hours she was exhausted and weary.
But suddenly the crowd was gone and he is there. He is who she was looking for. Tall and dangerous he approaches. The look in his eyes sending shivers down her spine. She met his gaze unafraid and hopeful.

“It is time to claim my prize.” A crystal appeared in front of him and he touched it with his fingertips. Holding it between two fingers he spun the orb until it is a blur to her. When the blur settled and the crystal had changed into a single red rose with large thorns.

“Take it and end your search.” He offered her the flower.


She awoke in the morning expecting him to be at the foot of her bed holding out a rose. But this morning as with every morning she was by herself.

After dropping Toby off at school Sarah arrived at the bookshop to accept a delivery. Normally she didn’t arrive until 9:30 to open up at 10:00 but Sarah wanted to get the new books into the computer system before Dee arrived. Dee tired to help out as much as she could in the store, but more and more of late Dee just sat in her chair and knitted while Sarah ran the shop.

Dee always had a story to tell anyone who asked and on Saturday mornings at 11 o’clock precisely she would open up a special book and tell the children a special story.
The book itself was large and had an olde worlde feel to it as if once some magical wizard had owned the book. But in fact it was just a paper mache book Sarah made for Dee in art class before she left high school. The special stories were all a part of Dee’s vivid imagination.
She told the children that this book was a magical one that chose the stories for her. Ones it wanted her to read, and if a child requested a favourite story Dee would smile and say, “My special book is picky, some days it shows me stories I know and some days it doesn’t. I will ask the book to show me your story. But “ she would sigh a long suffering sigh, “it doesn’t like to listen to me. Shall we all try and ask it?” and all the children and some of the adults would ask the book nicely to show Dee the chosen story. Sometimes it did, most times it tried but got a slightly different story.
But every time Dee opened up the magical book the children would love the story and believe in something beyond what they could see.
It made Saturdays the busiest day in the store.

Sarah arrived at the bookshop in time to open the shutters and turn on the lights when the delivery van arrived. Sarah signed the delivery docket and started to put the new books into the store’s catalogue on the computer.
After Sarah had graduated her business studies course at college she convinced Dee to get an up-to-date computer system to help organized the store’s collection of books and stock requests. It had made thing move a little bit more efficiently but Dee insisted that it was going to be the only modern change in the store.
“Part of the joy of this store is the mystery and magic people feel when they walk in. Modern bookstores with their coffee shops and florescent lighting ruin the character of a store.” Dee would humph “I already had to add that security system for the insurance I don’t want to change anything else.”

Sarah smiled at the memory. Dee was right those modern chain bookstores didn’t have the character or warmth that Sunrise Sunset had. Being in this little bookstore reminded Sarah of the dreams and joys she had deep within her storybooks. Her love of fantasy and magic never faded, and working in this tiny little store helped keep her feelings alive.
The bookstore was small but crowded with antique bookshelves. In a bay window surrounded by low shelves was a large and comfortable wing backed chair, Dee’s chair. The bookshelves around her were filled with children’s books and there were cushions for the children to sit on and read, look or just listen.
Behind the counter was a glass cabinet that held the “treasures” as Dee called them. The rare and old books that Dee had collected over the years. The special book also stayed in the glass cabinet.

At 9:30 Dee arrived with her knitting bag and her cane. After she had settled in her chair Sarah brought her a cup of tea and a cookie.

“Thank you sweet heart,” Dee took the treat. “You know I shouldn’t eat these.” The elderly woman offered a conspiratorial glance and bit into it anyway.
“I know but one a day can’t hurt your blood sugar.” Sarah returned to putting the new arrivals on display.
After a few moments of silence Dee sat back and called out to the younger woman “Sarah, how long have you been working here?”
“Bout seven years,”
“Do you dream of doing anything more challenging?”
Sarah shook her head and grabbed a new pile of books. “Nope I’m happy here. I love working with you and seeing all the kids, books have been a passion of mine for a long time.”

“I can’t help but think you are waiting for something.” Dee picked up her knitting.
“Not something, someone.”
“Ahh Mr Right. I understand. So how is Toby, I haven’t seen him in the past month.”

“Oh he started playing soccer with the local pee wee team and they play on Saturday mornings.”
“So we’ve lost him to the great and grand world of sports then?” she chuckled. “No time for stories when there are games to play.”
“Oh no! He makes me tell him the story on Saturday night. I doubt you will ever ‘loose him’ he is hooked as I am.” Sarah giggled.
“Fiddly foo! I dropped a stitch.” Dee frowned and concentrated on correcting her mistake. Ten minutes later she spoke to Sarah again.
“So you tell him the story?”
“Umm hmmm”
“Does he enjoy it when you do?”
“Yup” Sarah nodded, “He says I am almost as good as you are. He says we both make the stories real.”
“Make it real huh?” Dee put down her knitting and looked directly at Sarah.
“Have you thought about who will tell the stories when I am gone?”

“Dee!!” Sarah was shocked and rushed over to the woman’s side. “You have plenty of time left.”
“That may be sweetheart, but I can’t live forever. Would you do the stories when I go?”
“Of course but that won’t be for a long time yet.”
“I would like to hear you do it before I go.”
“Dee, you are being silly you have a long time left. Look at you! You walk to the store everyday without fail when people who are younger than you are housebound. You’ll bury us all!”
“I doubt that.” Dee chuckled, “will you do an old woman a big favour and do this week’s story.”

“If it will make you happy, I will. But I expect you to read next week.” Sarah waggled her finger. “You aren’t walking out on me just yet.”

“Of course not sweetheart, now open the door it is 10 o’clock, time to start the day.” Dee picked up her knitting as Sarah turned over the “open” sign.