The Dust Jacket

By B.J. de Leon

What if you purchase a book from a second hand bookstore and found a dying letter written on it? What would you do? Would you ignore it? Would you try finding the previous owner?

This is the dilemma of Eric, a young D.J. of an evening segment to a radio station. He bought a book at a small second hand bookstore. When he got home, he tried to browse the pages of the book. He then noticed that at the last blank pages of the book, a letter was written. It started with the greeting, “Yam” and ended with “Your Dad.” It is actually a letter of a dying father to his daughter whom he had not talked to for ages. Having read it several times, Eric wanted to give the book to the daughter but his dilemma is he does not know where to look for her. The only clue that he has is the simple greeting, “Yam.”

The letter kept on bugging him, as if pleading to be sent to the addressee. What will he do? Would Eric be able to give the dying message of the father to his daughter?

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.J. de Leon
• Release date: Feb 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370868070

B.J. de Leon

I am young man born and raised in the Philippines. I started reading novels when I was in High school due to home reading reports. I already had the desiree to write when I was in college due to the praises I gained in my Essay and Essay writing course but did not had the guts. I have three degrees under my belt. I am a graduate of Bachelor of Arts Major in Philosophy (2009), Bachelor of Sacred Theology (2014), and Master of Arts in Pastoral Ministry (2011). Currently, I enrolled for the degree of Master of Arts in Preaching at Institute of Preaching.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

ERIC Barer switched the lights on, closed the door and placed his sling bag on the table. His condominium unit is a typical bachelor’s apartment. Upon entering the room faced on the right side, a small kitchen with a marble countertops and on the left side, the bedroom, a room within a room. The bedroom has transparent glass internal walls that slide open help transform the space and make the overall room feel larger than what it actually is. Gold silk drapes line the interior of the bedroom.

After the transparent room is the living room. An artwork by an unknown artist was hung above the twenty inches long red silk velvet covered banquette and at both end was two gun lamps. There was also a rectangular low-glassed table in front of the banquette and a sixty-five inches diagonal flat screen television, mounted above the stone-designed fireplace. At the corner-end between the fireplace and the glass wall is a pathway to the small kitchen and bathroom. Red is the predominant color theme throughout the rest of the room.

It’s past eleven in the evening. Eric just came from work. It’s his usual schedule since his work falls on an evening program of WJRQ 103 radio station of Cincinnati, Ohio. Being the youngest DJ, he could not but accept the program. Yet, his program hits the top of the chart for two months now. He is not actually a native of Cincinnati. Eric was born and raised in Newport, Kentucky particularly in the Street of Columbia. After his graduation, he ventured on applying to different places. Lucky, the WJRQ 103, a well-established radio station in Ohio, saw his potentials, his charisma in engaging social conversation with a stranger, his rich baritone voice and certainly his good heart-captivating looks that quite makes a stir to the appeal of young ladies. Most women would describe him having the heart of a lion and the soul of an angel. This is advantageous for the radio station, which hosts plenty of events yearly.

Though Newport is not far from Cincinnati, he left everything behind, the comfort of their home and the luxury of family since he wanted to be independent. He’s now staying at Adam’s Crossing, a condo unit that is just five minutes drive from his working place, the radio station. Eric is a dreamer. Since getting the job as DJ, he constantly reminds himself that working at such place is a mere stepping-stone of achieving his goal that is to be part of a national radio or television station as a DJ or as an anchor.

Eric grabbed a can of beer and made himself comfortable on the banquette, sitting back while watching a replay of the triple overtime NBA game between the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Los Angeles Lakers. He knows how to play but he was not a fan of NBA. For the sake of watching, he has no choice but to be contented with NBA replay since there’s nothing better to watch at this hour.

He suddenly recalled that he bought a book at the second hand bookstore this morning after meeting an old friend that he hasn’t seen for a long time. He reached out to his bag, pulled out the book and the aroma of old paper burst out.

It was a second hand leather-bound classic book entitled, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. It is not the first time for Eric to buy a classic book. Whenever he sees a bookstore, he couldn’t resist the temptation of entering and buying a book. He is fond of reading books especially classic books. Though, he also reads books of selected contemporary authors like Nicholas Sparks, Nora Roberts and John Grisham, he still prefers much the classic. He even has a collection of the classic like The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, and Draculla by Bram Stoker. He’s not particular with the genre of the books as long as they are classic. He believes that the classic books are on top of the list of the best books. For him, they bring the immortality of reading to life and the richness of lexis.

Since Eric was in a hurry this morning when he bought the book, he browsed through it to check if there are other damages on it other than the smell of old paper and some dust. He noticed that there were some folded pages, and some ink of pen underlining words. Other than those, the book seems to be in good condition. However, as he was nearing the last pages of the book, he noticed that the blank pages of the book were used as a notepad. There were writings on it.

The handwriting seems to be that of his grandfather, like a flawless calligraphy. He guessed that the one who wrote the words ages between fifty to sixty years old. Furthermore, he observed that the handwritten words weren’t reaction to the book but actually a letter.

He clutched firmly the book and glanced at both ends of the room as if what he was about to do is something illegal. Of course, it was just a reflex. Well, to read a letter, which is not yours, is inappropriate but he bought the book. Along with book is the letter written on it. Technically then, he has every right to do whatever he likes with the book. Yet, it seems to be difficult to remove the guilt feeling. The letter could be a personal letter. It could be a forbidden letter of eternal love. Whatever the case, his curiosity got the better of him. He then began to read.

The letter started with the greeting, Yam and ended with Your Dad. Wow! Just Wow. That was some letter. He thought after reading it. The letter was tremendously emotional. Every word in it articulated the misery of the one who made it. Every paragraph lucidly expressed the deepest thoughts and sorrow of the heart and mind of the sender.

Eric is the type of man who usually doesn’t show much emotion. Whenever he gives pieces of advice to his listeners in his evening program, he was just calm and rational. But at some point of the letter, a drop of tear was rolling down his cheeks. He also had to pause at some parts to bring his self together. The letter made Eric to travel in a different world, a world filled with regret and desolation agony. It was actually the world of a dying father writing to his daughter whom he had not talked with for ages. All Eric can think about is pain. Even he as a spectator of the letter was engulfed with pain that surrounds the letter at every angle.

Eric closed the book and clutched it tightly on his chest. Questions started to formulate on his mind. Who are these Yam and Dad? Why did this Dad sell the book? Was he able to tell her personally the thoughts he had written? Were they able to reconcile with one another? Eric wanted to know what happened next to both of them.

After few seconds, Eric sighed. He knew that these questions wouldn’t be answered. In no way could he meet either one of them. There was no address. No other name except Yam. Such name could actually mean many things. It could be a code name or a nickname. It may not point directly to the person being addressed. There was no other clue. What to do then? He felt disappointed. He wished at least he could learn what happened afterwards.

Eric stood up and went to his bedroom. He sat on his bed while still holding on to the book. His mind was still on the letter. The words seem to flow naturally as he continues to look for a clue that he might have missed. Suddenly, he thought of an idea. There’s hope, he thought. With the comfort of the idea, he lay on his bed and prayed that as the sun smiles on the world, he could confirm and maybe gain a clue that would lead to the answers of his questions.

CHAPTER 2

IT’S three in the afternoon. Eric just finished visiting his grandparents and Thea, his younger sister. Eric and Thea grew up in the arms of their grandparents since their father died. He was only nineteen and Thea was ten years old when their father died. He had chronic myelogenous leukemia. He was in and out of the hospital for months before he died. All of their money including his savings for his children’s future went to his treatment. They were left with nothing. He was a good father though. He fought for his children when their mother left them for another man. Since their father’s death, both Eric and Thea were left to their grandparents who were by their side when their father was dying.

Eric’s grandparents were strict. They instilled in them discipline, values and honor. Moreover, thanks to such upbringing, Eric knew, that what he is now is the result of their love and sacrifice. The habits that he inherited, in terms of self-discipline and work, were all worth it. What the world views as complex becomes easy for him. It wasn’t shocking then that the radio station easily hired him. 

It’s been two months since Eric last saw them. It was also the day when he transferred to Cincinnati. Eric loves them dearly and is in constant communication with them at least every other day. Though Newport is not far from Cincinnati, he didn’t have the luxury of time to visit them. He was busy with his work, hosting events sponsored by the radio station and every evening, his radio program. More so, he was still adjusting to his new environment, the place, the people, and his schedule. Everything is new for him.

Eric looked at his watch. There’s so much time yet before he goes to work. As planned, he opened the front door, heard the tinkle of the little bell and just like yesterday, books on every surface greeted him. With the hope of finding a clue regarding the book or the owner of the book, Eric returned to the second hand bookstore.

Dust Jacket is the name of the store, written in a carved sign with italicized gold script above the front door. It is a small bookstore located at Mt. Lookout Square along Linwood Avenue. The store is completely different from the surrounding buildings. It looked as if it had been plucked from retro land and dropped in the modern square on a drunken dare. 

The bookstore is like a sanctuary for book aficionado around the square. It may not be as modernized as the Barns and Nobles, which by the way is only some minutes away but the experience many customers get from Dust Jacket is immeasurable. The bookstore is well known for its books that are mostly leather bounded. It specializes in rare and collectible books just like what Eric bought yesterday. Congruent with the books being sold, the store is old, full of character, and last but not least, valued. It is like walking into a bookstore in the 1800s. Well almost. Shelves that sheltered thousands of books covered every inch of the wall. Actually, the store wasn't well planned out. Books weren't under their categories. Somehow, this adds to the adventure of finding a couple gems at the store. Who is to be blamed anyway, the workers? But there is only one worker in this bookstore, and who by the way is also the owner of the store.

In the cheerfully lit, pale brown foyer – at least the store was consistent in its inconsistency – sat an L-shaped desk. The longer leg stretches to the front wall of the store while the shorter leg with the left side of the building. On top of the desk is the counter for the transactions and on the far end are some rare items like historical manuscripts and maps, some of which dated from the Revolutionary War. These items seem to be just for display and are part of the collection of the owner.

Beneath the bright fluorescent light over the desk is an old man. He actually reminds Eric of his own grandfather, gray hair, dark-age spots, a little hunched over from years of gravity on pushing down on his spine, sour breath, glasses on the tip of his nose, in a brown suspenders, plaid shirt, and khaki pants pulled all the way up to his waist.

Well, hello again! the old man greeted as he set aside the book he was reading.

Eric approached the old man, nodded and at the same time wave. He cleared his throat loudly and then responded, Hi! Eric’s eyes traveled around the shop trying to survey if the store is with other customers. He saw two customers. One is a teenager who might be a student looking for a book for his home reading report. The other looks like a middle-aged woman, possibly a housewife looking for something to waste her time with.

The old man smiled. Have you finished the book? Are you here to buy another one? he asked.

Ah… not yet actually, Eric responded.

Can I help with anything then?

Eric did not immediately respond. He did not know what to say. It’s clear why he came back. He was here to ask the owner regarding the book or the owner of the book. He was hoping to find a clue. Yet, several situations came into his mind after seeing the owner again. What if the owner of the bookstore is the owner of the book? Knowing that he read the letter, his personal letter to his daughter, would the old man get angry? Is it proper to ask him? Eric is against the wall. He wanted to find any clue but he was hesitant. Would he ask about the book or not?

Is there a problem with the book? the old man speculated as he tries to read the expression of Eric.

None. No problem at all. It was in perfect condition, Eric responded while still fidgety.

What can I help you then?

Ahhh… Eric was still hesitant and then, What is the meaning behind the name of the store? he asked while pointing at the sign on top of the front door. He thought that maybe, he could ask the old man indirectly and get some clue if he was the one who wrote the letter. Hopefully, he can find anything by asking random questions.

"The Dust Jacket? Well, as you can see the shop is quite aged as I am. My wife and I love to read books. Actually, I was the one reading for her. She was blind. Through time, we had accumulated many books. Not just paperback books but all the books that we bought are leather bounded.

Paradoxically, we named the shop ‘Dust Jacket’ because we wanted to remind all customers that the beauty of every book does not depend on the colors of the cover or the dust jacket but the words in them. The dust jacket of every book is purely aesthetic especially for blind people. We named it ‘Dust Jacket’ so that people would value not the cover but the richness of the story of every book. The dust jacket of every book is not just about cover as contrary to the dictionary meaning but is about the richness of the story. That is why most of the books that we sell are leather bounded or without the dust jacket."

Wow! Amazing! Do you still read to your wife then? Since not much clue has been unraveled, Eric tried to dig deeper.

She died a few years ago. The old man’s happy face turned into sadness. He loved her so much. She was his treasure and life. His sadness says everything.

I’m sorry! Eric was ashamed. He questioned himself. What am I doing here meddling with the life of a stranger? He knew that it was rude of him to suddenly ask personal questions. He was not in the right position and the right time to ask the old man. He knew that his questions brought out the sadness of the old man that still haunts him.

No. It’s okay. No problem at all. Hmmm… so what do you really need anyway? The old man felt that Eric was hiding something. He stared at Eric as if waiting for him to tell the truth behind his coming back to the shop.

Eric was silent for a second. He doesn’t know if he would ask the old man about the book or