Dangerous Dementions by Virginia Lang (the first e reader .TXT) 📕

that splayed out along her mid-back, with a little girl holding a rather large book to her chest that covered half of her face, the woman’s hand perched on the girl’s shoulder. The little girl couldn’t have been a day over seven.

The store was littered with shelves full of books. I didn’t even know where to begin searching. There wasn’t much I could do about time, but I could skim the shelves for possibly anything that might pull my interest. I walked toward the second shelf to the left. Mark seemed to be occupied by the mere image of the science fiction section. The shelf was littered with terrifying, out of this world graphic type covers. It wouldn’t hurt to let him browse a while on his own, while I press onward without him near the fantasy romance section, would it? I didn’t think so anyway, after all he was a writer and a writer could entertain themselves in their own world.

My eyes delicately graced over the many covers of the books before me. Not much caught my interest to my dismay. There were romances, and fantasy novels of princesses and young maidens who fall in love with a young man who sweeps them up and carries them off into the sunset or the dawn of a new day. Such stories never end well for those in the reality of such a situation. Relationships were for the weak. Those who could not stand to be on their own so they rush off as soon as they find someone who will fall just as much into a love type of relationship and go off and marry so they can live happily ever after with their two kids and mortgage payments. Taxes and bills to skyrocket beyond their income and leave them soon over years to be stranded in a sewer somewhere in the deep dark city living off trash and skewered rats. Then again, that could just be the bitterness of my stay in Portland after all.

With a long deep sigh I grazed through the many covers along the first two or three racks, pondering why there aren’t any more interesting tales that someone like myself could read. That’s when I saw it. The distinguished looking cover caught my eye like a magnet. It wasn’t very flashy but the contrast of orange, red and black with large print caught my interest. I picked up the book and gazed at the lettering. ‘Angels & Demons’ by Dan Brown. I don’t know why this made me curious but it did. I ignored the buzzing around me as I flipped the book around to read the synopsis of the book. ‘When world-renowned Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon is summoned to a Swiss research facility to analyze a mysterious symbol -- seared into the chest of a murdered physicist -- he discovers evidence of the unimaginable: the resurgence of an ancient secret brotherhood known as the Illuminati... the most powerful underground organization ever to walk the earth. The Illuminati has surfaced from the shadows to carry out the final phase of its legendary vendetta against its most hated enemy... the Catholic Church.’

Now there was a story summary.

“Do you like stories of angels and demons with tragic storylines?” The sudden company beside me surprised me as I looked up from the book in my hands. A boy around sixteen or seventeen stood beside me with his hands in his pockets. His raven hair and deep brown eyes gazed at me with a toothy smile. He was wearing a long sleeve knit shirt with medium blue denim jeans that fit him nicely. I tried not to look too awkward as I straightened myself up and shifted my weight to my left so I could face him more accordingly.

“I don’t really know, I haven’t really read one before.” I answered truthfully. “Unless you count the bible.” I added with a small smile. He seemed to note the added comment in his mind with amusement because his brow raised and his smile grew.

“I guess it depends.” He said smugly. “I’m Conner O’Connor.”

Now didn’t that just catch the tongue? With the book still in hand I turned fully to face him and couldn’t hide the amusement in my own facial features. “Conner O’Connor?” He gave a droll chuckle that caused me to blush slightly.

“Yes.” Conner raised his brows a bit more, with a look of waiting patience. He probably wanted my name as well. That would be rude of me not to answer seeing as he had so formally introduced himself.

“I’m Charlie Tanner.”

“It’s nice to meet you Charlie Tanner.” I admit I was surprised. I’ve met a many people before who’ve asked about my choice for a nickname. Charlie was after all, a boy’s name. Though I look nothing like a boy, I much rather be called Charlie than Charlene. It sounded to adult for a teenager. I think Charlie fits me just fine.

“You too.” I replied with a small smile. “Do you live in Portland?”

“I do.” He seemed cordial about it too; unlike myself who would rather be back at home in Syracuse, enjoying the country air. “I live over on Hawthorne Terrace, kind of near the Reservoir.”

“Really? There’s a reservoir?” He seemed to give me a strange look and I couldn’t help but blushed slightly at my ignorance of the place I was currently in. It’s not like I did research before I got here. Truthfully I didn’t even know what street Powell’s was located on.

“You don’t live around here, do you?” By the sound of it he was more stating the obvious rather than asking a question.

“No, I just moved here temporarily from New York.” I wasn’t much of a city girl, so I probably came off as an odd ball to a city boy like him. “I’m staying with my Uncle Mark over on Montgomery Place.” He seemed surprised I’d even known the street I lived on currently and to be quite frank so was I, however Mark didn’t let me forget it incase I got lost and needed to get home somehow with a map or a taxi or something to that effect.

“Charlene! I found this really cool book…” Both Conner and I turned towards Mark as he came dashing up with some large book on some artist. I couldn’t catch the title but I could tell by the size and the painting on the front cover that it was something to do with art or something. Conner immediately put his hand out as Mark stood before us, mouth open mid sentence.

“Hello, I’m Conner O’Connor.” Conner smiled that gracing smile which snapped Mark’s own mouth shut. Mark took Conner’s hand, shaking it while his own lips turned up in a slight smile.

“Mark, I’m Charlene’s Uncle.” He said while letting Connors hand go.

“Nice to meet you.” I couldn’t grasp Mark’s almost stunned reaction. But he seemed pleased that I met someone already. Mark placed his hand back on the side of the book with a slight nod.

“You’re first day in Portland, and you already made a friend.” Mark said with what seemed like a pleased look. “It’s nice to meet you Conner, are you…Serene and Anton’s son?”

“I am.” Conner’s smile grew. I felt like I was missing out on something. Then again, I was new here so I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone else knew each other when I didn’t. “You know my parents?”

“Of course, they run the best coffee shop near the west side of town.” Mark smiled. “How are they?”

“They’re doing good, working the store as we speak.” Connor smiled before turning his hand to his pocket and pulling out a cell phone, which began ringing once it neared his vision. “Hello? I’ll be there soon Mom, bye.” He hung the phone up and gave me a smile. “Well, Charlie, work calls, I’ll hopefully catch you again soon?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Oh…sure.” I replied as he said goodbye to Mark and made his way towards the exit. I stared off at him as he disappeared around the corner. When I turned my eyes back to my uncle, Mark was smiling smugly. “What?” I asked with a defensive tone, blushing slightly as his brow rose.

“Nothing.” He chuckled, his expression now amused at my reaction. I pushed passed him towards the counter that was now empty and set the book upon the counter just as Mark caught up to me. He set his book on the counter as well, the clerk ringing them up as I began to reach for my wallet in my pocket, but Mark held up his hand. “No, no. I got this one.” He said as he handed the clerk a twenty. “Keep the change.” He told her while he grabbed the books and handed me the book I found earlier. It was then, as we walked back out to the car that he noticed the book in my hands. “Angels and Demons?” I could tell it struck his curiosity as to why I had chosen such a book.

“Uh, yeah, just thought it looked like an interesting book.” I replied while pulling open the cruiser door. Mark stood on the sidewalk looking at me, as I was about to get into the vehicle. “What?”

“So, you and Conner seem to have gotten along.” He smirked, walking around to the driver’s side of the cruiser. “He’s cute too.” He added as he got in, causing me to roll my eyes; hopping into the passengers seat was like taking a seat to my doom ride back to the house. Mark didn’t stop pestering me with questions of what Conner and I talked about, if I was going to hang out with him again.

“I don’t even know him, Mark.” I said, making an attempt to drop the subject.

“We could stop at the shop and say hello.” He said, causing me to turn to him with a look of disbelief.

“What? Why?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine, Charlene.” Finally! He was going to drop it. “You’ll probably see him at school Monday anyway.” School, I had just about forgotten about that completely. I was going to be transferring into a new school, here in Portland. Something I wasn’t looking forward too. That meant new friends, and new faces I’d have to fear for the sake of being new myself. Portland was looking worse each moment passing. I didn’t want to go to school; I was content with my school back home. At least I knew everyone. I grew up in Syracuse, including growing up with the kids in my classes who mostly lived nearby. This was going to be a long year.

+++

The weekend passed all too quickly. Mark took out to a few stores to get supplies for school like paper, pencils…I almost expected him to ask if I wanted rulers, binders, and a bib. The feeling of going out for school supplies with Mark was close to a five-year old getting set up for their first day of first-grade.

I don’t know. All I know is that now I stand amidst the most crowded school I have seen in…well that I’ve ever seen period. All of this school would probably fit ten of mine. Back home, we didn’t worry about seating arrangements or parking or being at the front early to get inside first because there were so little group to a classroom. This place was just outright overpopulated. It’s ridiculous.

“Charlene, are you alright?” I heard Marks