The Proprietor's Stolen Gift:
Acquisition:
It was a gut punch to Trevor. He knew it was coming; he even thought he was prepared for it. But seeing Bella Adams, his best friend since kindergarten, through the window of Archie's Diner on a date with Theo Mitchell was more than he could bear.
Trevor didn't know where they were going, even Bella hadn't known, he only knew it was meant to be Friday right after school, so glancing through the window as he was walking to the library, he suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe.
He knew he loved her.
And he knew she didn't love him.
Trevor had never asked Bella directly, but how could anyone love someone whose own Father didn't even love? The one person who by definition was supposed to love him unconditionally.
The sight Trevor beheld reminded him of his past, his Mother dying during his childbirth, his wealthy Father blaming him for the loss and becoming a drunken animal behind closed doors - so many bruises and broken bones healed by doctors who were paid off not to tell the authorities. His Father soon got remarried to a gold-digging blonde trophy wife, Selena, who didn't want anything to do with Trevor, and with her arrival came his new Stepsister, Savannah, who could do no wrong. Trevor was her constant scapegoat, conveniently blaming him for everything, ensuring his demise. By age eight, he was exiled, forced to live in the loft above the garage, and cast out of the only home he knew because Savannah lied and said he was peeping on her in the shower.
Trevor was on his own. He had a microwave as his only source in which to cook, a fridge that barely had any food in it, and it only did when he went shopping with the $150 a month spending limit credit card his Father gave him, all so he could be out of sight, out of mind. At fourteen, his Father died when he got behind the wheel after another alcoholic bender, causing Trevor's situation to become even worse as his Stepmother canceled the credit card. He did odd jobs around the neighborhood, doing anything and everything for an income until he was old enough to get a job as a busboy at Shenanigans Steakhouse.
Bella was Trevor's only salvation, a voice of comfort and solace since kindergarten. The only person to acknowledge his birthday. The only person to acknowledge his existence.
Trevor briskly left, his feet pounding the pavement in anguish as his eyes bore holes into the cement, all thoughts of his prior destination evaporated in the cool spring air.
And it's not that Trevor didn't understand why Bella would go on a date with the handsome, upper-echelon in popularity, Theo. Trevor knew full well that puberty didn't do him any favors, keeping his body average in every way, not to mention his difficulties at home with his Stepmother and Stepsister, which cemented his ideology of wanting to be left alone, choosing survival above all else. Whereas for Bella, puberty came late but made up for the delay. By the end of junior year, her brown curls fell perfectly into place while her curves became envied by most. Once a tomboy happy in the solitude with Trevor, she could no longer be ignored, so much so that at the start of senior year, classmates thought she was a transfer student. Her social standing at school rapidly escalated, and with it, she became inundated with date requests, invites to attend parties, or just hang out, allowing her to become a social butterfly. Though they still conversed once a week, mostly by phone now, it was a far cry from when they would be seen together daily.
Trevor knew that all too soon graduation would be upon him and Bella, followed by a quick summer, and then they would be off to college, her at nearby State University and him choosing amongst his acceptance letters to be an ocean away at Imperial College in London, a mutually beneficial choice between him and his Stepmother. She would pay the tuition as long as Trevor went far away and to never return and he wanted to go far away and to never return.
Trevor wiped the tears from his eyes only to notice they were quickly replaced with raindrops. He glanced up to note he had traveled a good distance down Springwell Avenue, gone was the shopping district of the city of Hilldale and in its place were the business and residential skyscrapers in which only the truly wealthy could work or afford.
All except for the long abandoned little building that used to be a general store from a bygone era. Trevor knew the city had sold the rights to the condemned building years ago to a conglomerate that wanted to build yet another skyscraper, but the construction plans have been delayed in court due to the owner of the building across the street saying "It would ruin his view of the city skyline." Still, why was there a light on inside... with an open sign now hung on the door?
The rain made Trevor's decision easy, "Maybe I can wait out this storm and hopefully dry off a little."
The door creaked as if it hadn't been opened in ages and a stale, musky scent filled Trevor's nostrils enough for him to cough upon entering. Once he collected himself he glanced around to find the place was as worn on the inside as it was on the outside, old wood shelves with what appeared to be just as old bottled merchandise lined the side walls while an old wooden counter stood opposite of him.
"An antique shop." Trevor let go of the door and the weighted wood slammed back into place, the loud unexpectedness of it startling him with a shriek.
"Do come in, dear child," An older, mirthful voice cut through the livened dust particles as its host stood from behind the counter.
Trevor couldn't seem to focus and it felt as if the woman stood in a deep fog. He could tell the woman had black hair and was wearing an older-style black dress complete with a bustle, and somehow, through the mist, her eyes were piercing and hypnotic, though he couldn't make out the color, everything else about her was a blur. Was it the dust in the air? Or perhaps was it that he couldn't look away from the haze around her stare? The only thing that he was sure of was that this woman radiated a pearl of elderly wisdom based upon years of life but seemed far younger.
Trevor closed his eyes, which allowed him to look away from the woman. "Thanks." He looked to the right and found he was unsure of what he was looking at. It was an old black flask of a bottle with a cork. He moved closer, an exaggerated groan releasing from the wood with each step, to find it had no label.
"That potion is for hair regrowth."
The closeness of the voice caused a shiver down Trevor's spine and the woman gave a brief snicker. It barely registered that her footfalls were eerily silent.
"So, you're opening a pharmacy. I thought this place was destined to be a skyscraper."
"A skyscraper, goodness no," the woman gave a dismissive wave as she gave off a slight laugh. "The buildings that house my stores have been in my family for generations and I would never consider selling them let alone allow one of them to be turned into such an impersonal monstrosity."
'I was certain this was the building I read about.' Trevor shook his head, "I didn't realize you were a franchise."
"Not quite, as my businesses are only open when I am there, and I am only there when I am needed. I am what you call a traveling proprietor. For instance, I will not return here for another two years, 6 months, three weeks, and a day and yes, in this generation the term used for my business is a pharmacy."