Prophetic

A jolly Tuesday is being had, for many of Fernando's companions have recently arrived to sequester themselves in his sterling back room in preparation for a righteous rolling of bones upon closing time. Fernando had just prepared a pot of coffee and was in the back sipping at molten ecstasy when the door chimes jingled.

Reluctantly, our protagonist returned to the front of the store whilst booming, “Hello!” at the visitor. It was about 7.30 so all Fernando really expected was one of his later-in-the-evening regulars perusing the new releases and lamenting that none of them were in.

Instead, it's a fairly attractive young lady, maybe 19, 20, carrying around a large black satchel strategically filled with books and pamphlets. She has a larger, hardcover tome cradled under one arm and in her other hand she carries a DVD. “Oh, hello!” she says, smiling winsomely as Fernando resumes his place behind the counter. She wedges the DVD underarm next to the book and brushes a stray hair out of her eyes. “How are you today?”

“I'm well. Yourself?”

“Just fantastic!” And she smiles. But it is a hollow, false smile that does not reach her eyes. “My name is Sarah and I am working as part of a scholarship program.” She pauses to look around the store and releases a small titter. “Do you watch many movies?”

“I've been known to peruse a few now and again.”

“Well, you might be interested in this DVD, then. It is a documentary about a man and how he was able to uncover predictions regardingWorld War II, the Korean War, Vietnam War, and War on Terror through biblical verse. Now, all we're asking is for a small donation. It can be whatever you like."

“Curious. And this documentary, I'm sure it meets a rigorous logical standard, and doesn't cherry pick verses to make what seems to be a cogent argument.”

But she is unfazed. Cultists are like that. “I'm sure you would find it a great addition to your store. It would be a very informative thing for your customers to watch.”

Fernando snorts. “I can barely get them to rent March of the Penguins or Super Size Me. I don't think that this is precisely the sort of fare likely to be consumed by them.”

That forced smile remains in place as she says, “But you can't know that for sure.”

And Fernando gives a grin of his own. “Presumptive of you to claim that it would go over well, then.”

But she remains unrattled, still maintaining that creepy smile, and changes the topic. “You said you like logical arguments, so I'm sure you read quite a bit.”

“You could say that. I'm not too terribly choosy either. I'll consume equal parts nonfiction”--and here Fernando puts a wonderful bit of emphasis on the word--”and fantasy.

“That being said,” Fernando continues as she prepares to speak, “I'm not particularly interested in your wares.”

“Oh, yes, sir, I understand.” She reaches into her satchel and retrieves a little prayer book thing. “Any help you could give at all would be most appreciated.”

“I said I'm not interested.”

“Oh, well, here then, sir,” she says, pulling out a tiny postcard. “This is if you should ever want more information. Have a nice evening!” She turns and leaves. The plastic smile was still on her face as the door chimed shut.