Reading Habits by Kim Lehnhoff
Had Steven Womack been a bestselling author in Pittsburgh, Ann Schmidt might still be alive. Instead, news of her brutal murder was the leading story on the local news stations.
Hmm, so her name had been Ann Schmidt. I always thought of her as “the Book Lady.” I knew something really BAD had happened in our usually quiet neighborhood as I watched policemen walk through my yard. When I asked them what they were looking for, one grim-faced officer replied, “A murder weapon.”
Just a few weeks after the attacks that occurred on September 11, our neighborhood (and our nation) was still exhibiting the anxiety that comes from not knowing who among us may be the enemy; this crime only heightened that feeling. My six-year-old son, Ethan, soon traded his search for terrorists to that of the man (we assumed it was a man) who killed our favorite used bookstore owner.
We’d never again walk the two and a half blocks to The Book Rack (with an additional stop off at Potomac Bakery for a muffin). As we walked past the bar, Ethan and I would joke with each other about the whoppers that were being told in the Liar’s Club (his mostly consisted of superheroes battling impossible looking adversaries).
We went to the bookstore at 3:15 every Friday that Ethan had a good week at school – those used books were earned like badges of courage. Kindergarten was tough for him, his behavior was all over the place (ADHD, at the very least)…so any string of more than two days of positive behavior warranted a Friday trip to the bookstore. Reading since the age of four, he devoured each and every book he picked out. He was already working on chapter books, even though his classmates still didn’t know their alphabet.
“The Book Lady” always greeted us with a smile. She seemed to commit to memory which authors were customer favorites – and she’d set aside any books that came in that might be of interest. Weekday afternoons were not her busy time, so she might accompany customers to the shelves to point out her latest treasures. Sometimes, when we’d drive past the store on our Saturday morning errand run, we’d see her store filled with customers buying and selling books.
That Friday, I was going to make an exception to our behavior rule if I received a call (she said it would be in no later than lunch time) saying that Murder Manual had been brought in for sale. That was the Steven Womack book I sought – I needed my fix of stories of Nashville private eye Harry James Denton. Every time I got lost in one of his books, I was back in my beloved Nashville.
If only Ethan had had a good week, our presence in the store might have been enough of a deterrent to the drifter who fractured her skull with a railroad spike. Police were sure the spike came from the light rail system that ran down the middle of our street.
Maybe I should have stuck with reading Stephen King.
A picture of The Book Rack after the murder.
Kim Lehnhoff, 50-something wife, mother, grandmother, evil stepmother (hahaha). Currently unemployed technical writer (thank you, economy). Looking for a life in MO. Until the job/life thing works itself out, I live with my husband and son, who has special needs, and our cat. I sometimes channel June Cleaver and Erma Bombeck on my blog, The Ratio of Failures.
Kim blogs as June Freaking Cleaver at http://www.ratiooffailures.blogspot.com
Look for more writing from Kim in the upcoming Mozark Press' A Shaker of Margaritas: Hot Flash Mommas Anthology.