something more along the lines of a dusty, grungy used bookstore, but the place was well lit and inviting. He was careful not to look too obviously to see who was manning the cash register. He meandered over to the fiction section and allowed himself a more careful glance. He was in luck. That was definitely Bruce McClain. He was a big man, burly and bearded, with slightly wavy, shoulder length brown hair tending toward auburn, parted down the middle with no attempt at styling. He was wearing a black and red plaid shirt over a black t-shirt, and was perched on a tall, high backed stool, reading. There was a white cockatiel with a yellow crest perched on his shoulder and once Leander saw the bird, he knew this was going to be easy.
He considered the books on display, trying to decide which would be the best conversation starter. He browsed for some time, watching a couple of customers come and go. He finally settled on ‘The Yiddish Policeman’s Union’ and took it up to the check out counter, waiting for a moment when he was the only one in the store.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” McClain asked with a friendly rumble, as Leander set the book on the counter.
“It’s more fair to say I found something I wasn’t looking for, and that’s more fun, don’t you think?” Leander replied with a smile. “I couldn’t resist this title. Have you read it?”
McClain glanced down to check out the book, then smiled in return. “Oh yeah. I read that when it first came out. I’m a Chabon fan. I’d have to say that’s my favorite of his books.”
“Better than Kavalier and Clay? That won the Pulitzer, didn’t it?”
McClain settled back more comfortably on his stool. “It did, and I thought it was brilliant. But I liked this one better. It’s incredibly original. You don’t see a lot of mainstream authors take on the alternative history idea.”“Yeah, I got that from the book jacket. What a wacky idea, Jews relocated en masse to Alaska after World War II.”
“What’s amazing is that Roosevelt apparently actually did propose that,” McClain replied.
Leander leaned an elbow on the counter and shifted his weight casually onto one leg. “No way! That’s fascinating!”
McClain nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of wild. Chabon does an incredible job of world building on it. You absolutely believe in an Alaskan Jewish settlement by the time he’s done with you.”
“I think I read somewhere that Chabon was venturing into genre fiction with this one,” Leander offered. McClain’s expression was bright, his posture relaxed, and, thank God, no new customers came into the store to interrupt the flow of their conversation.They went on for some time about the Chabon book, segued into a couple of others, and were soon comparing favorites. Leander was playing a character closer to his own than most on this one. He was soon genuinely enjoying himself, which was the best possible outcome. He could see McClain warming to him as they were able to confirm some shared tastes. And Leander got the distinct impression that McClain started to try to read him about midway through the conversation. It was Leander’s guess that McClain was looking to see if Leander was powered. That much even a low level Reader could tell. In fact, low power Readers often didn’t pick up on the fact that Leander was unusually difficult to read. They didn’t expect to be able to read tells, or to have much facility with distinguishing powered energy or talents in any detail.
Leander clearly saw the moment when McClain confirmed to himself that Leander was powered. His gaze sharpened, and there was a sense that he had a more personal interest in the conversation. At first there was a hint of evaluation to it, with McClain probably trying to get a feel for whether Leander was dark powered. Since that was one aspect even high power Readers could get wrong, Leander wasn’t concerned, and he was quickly distracted anyway
He considered the books on display, trying to decide which would be the best conversation starter. He browsed for some time, watching a couple of customers come and go. He finally settled on ‘The Yiddish Policeman’s Union’ and took it up to the check out counter, waiting for a moment when he was the only one in the store.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” McClain asked with a friendly rumble, as Leander set the book on the counter.
“It’s more fair to say I found something I wasn’t looking for, and that’s more fun, don’t you think?” Leander replied with a smile. “I couldn’t resist this title. Have you read it?”
McClain glanced down to check out the book, then smiled in return. “Oh yeah. I read that when it first came out. I’m a Chabon fan. I’d have to say that’s my favorite of his books.”
“Better than Kavalier and Clay? That won the Pulitzer, didn’t it?”
McClain settled back more comfortably on his stool. “It did, and I thought it was brilliant. But I liked this one better. It’s incredibly original. You don’t see a lot of mainstream authors take on the alternative history idea.”“Yeah, I got that from the book jacket. What a wacky idea, Jews relocated en masse to Alaska after World War II.”
“What’s amazing is that Roosevelt apparently actually did propose that,” McClain replied.
Leander leaned an elbow on the counter and shifted his weight casually onto one leg. “No way! That’s fascinating!”
McClain nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of wild. Chabon does an incredible job of world building on it. You absolutely believe in an Alaskan Jewish settlement by the time he’s done with you.”
“I think I read somewhere that Chabon was venturing into genre fiction with this one,” Leander offered. McClain’s expression was bright, his posture relaxed, and, thank God, no new customers came into the store to interrupt the flow of their conversation.They went on for some time about the Chabon book, segued into a couple of others, and were soon comparing favorites. Leander was playing a character closer to his own than most on this one. He was soon genuinely enjoying himself, which was the best possible outcome. He could see McClain warming to him as they were able to confirm some shared tastes. And Leander got the distinct impression that McClain started to try to read him about midway through the conversation. It was Leander’s guess that McClain was looking to see if Leander was powered. That much even a low level Reader could tell. In fact, low power Readers often didn’t pick up on the fact that Leander was unusually difficult to read. They didn’t expect to be able to read tells, or to have much facility with distinguishing powered energy or talents in any detail.
Leander clearly saw the moment when McClain confirmed to himself that Leander was powered. His gaze sharpened, and there was a sense that he had a more personal interest in the conversation. At first there was a hint of evaluation to it, with McClain probably trying to get a feel for whether Leander was dark powered. Since that was one aspect even high power Readers could get wrong, Leander wasn’t concerned, and he was quickly distracted anyway
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