Working in the shop yesterday morning, I heard a commotion at the front door. Two young men -- one heavy-set, the other much smaller -- barged through the front door. They wore knit caps and large coats and they carried a brightly-painted wooden crate, a book, and a large jar. They stopped when they saw me and the larger man shoved the smaller one forward. "Do it, eh!"
The smaller man replied, "No way, eh? You do it."
"I did it at the beer store. It's your turn."
The smaller man grabbed a stack of books, apparently at random, and put them in the crate. He put the crate on the counter. "We want these, OK?"
They stood there awkwardly, staring at me. I took that as my cue to ring up the books. I took the first one and checked the price and began to enter the amount on the register.
"Uh, I believe there'll be no charge for these books," the larger man said.
He grabbed the book they had brought with them. "OK, we bought this book from YOUR bookstore, and we were at our book club, and a friend of ours -- a cop! -- found a mouse in this book. And he said when that happens, you get free books."
"It's in the Canadian criminal code," the smaller man added. "There's precedent in legal cases."
I stared at them in confusion. "It's The Tale of Despereaux. It's about a mouse. So yes, there is a mouse in the book. You do not get free books because a book has a mouse in it. And we are not in Canada, so whatever is in the Canadian criminal code is not applicable."
At the back of the shop, Crowley overheard the conversation and began moving toward the men.
"I told you this wouldn't work!" the smaller man whispered.
"Release the moths!" the other man shouted.
"We let 'em out at the movie theater."
"You were supposed to get more moths, you knob! Why'd you bring the jar if you didn't get more moths?"
At this point, Crowley stepped up to the counter. "I know you two," he said. "You're the McKenzie brothers. You want free books? Go to the publisher!"
"You sure you don't want to think about it?" asked the larger man.
Crowley grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him to within an inch of his face. "I'm sure," Crowley answered.
Crowley can be a rather intimidating presence. The brothers wisely exited the shop immediately, leaving behind the crate, the jar, and The Tale of Despereaux.
I suppose I shall put the crate with the other strange boxes that I've accumulated through the years. The basement is full of them.