LJ Idol, Season 9: Week 3 - "In Another Castle"
Alex couldn't go to the New York Public Library without stopping and visiting the two huge stone lions out front, Patience and Fortitude. The pedestals that they reclined upon were a good six feet tall, but Alex was just big enough - despite being only ten years old - that he could reach up and stroke their marble paws or run his hand down their strong haunches.
Sometimes when the weather was warm and pleasant like today, Alex would sit with his back against the cool marble - he was partial to Fortitude, as his mom always said he lacked Patience - and catch up on the latest Encyclopedia Brown novels. He enjoyed reading and solving the mini mysteries, especially since he and Leroy Brown were the same age. Alex fancied the two of them even looked quite a bit alike, to judge from the cover art, from their slightly too long brown hair down to their blue Converse sneakers.
It must be interesting to have a father who was the Chief of Police, Alex thought, as he mulled over the solution to "The Case of the Mysterious Thief." A father who would share case notes around the dinner table, and actually listen to his son's input. Alex had never known his own father, and his mother steadfastly refused to talk about him. He didn't mind the paternal absence too much - it was hard to miss what you never had.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself when his mother was late getting home from the theater in the evening, and his Nanny was ignoring him in favor of yet another episode of One Life to Live.
Maybe he should become a private detective like Tom Selleck on Magnum, P.I.. Manhattan was sure to have more exciting cases than the fictional town of Idaville where Encyclopedia Brown lived, and surely he could charge more than twenty-five cents plus expenses to solve a case! Alex wondered if he would look good in a moustache and a trench coat, or if perhaps he should invest in a few Hawaiian shirts.
He wondered if he should become a cop. He would have fun with the police radio for sure. Alex held his book in front of him and pretended it was a walkie-talkie. "Roger that - Rodgers out."
He had years to make a decision - heck, he had to get through Junior High School first. Just as he was about to start reading "The Case of the Old Calendars," Alex became aware of a presence looming over him. He looked up, and was greeted by a kindly, weathered, unshaven face.
"I see you like reading mystery novels," the man said nonchalantly.
"Um... yeah. I'm getting pretty good at solving them, too," Alex replied, wondering where this was going.
"You might like this book, then," the man stated, proffering a well-worn paperback.
Alex took it from him and glanced at the cover. "Casino Royale," he read aloud, then flipped through to chapter one. He silently read the first few paragraphs.
"Wow... this is great stuff," Alex said after a few minutes had gone by. Reluctantly, he started to hand the book back.
The man waved him off and smiled gently. "No, son - that's yours now. Keep it. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do."
"Gosh, thanks Mister! I will," Alex replied, rocketing to his feet and offering his hand. “I'm Alex. Well, I mean, that's my middle name - I've been trying it on for size. Most folks call me Richard.”
The two shook hands briefly. "It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Richard, but unfortunately duty calls and I have a plane to catch."
"Oh, okay. Well, thanks for the book."
Within a few moments, the man had blended into the crowd. Alex sat down and re-opened Fleming's novel, flipping back to the start of the first chapter.
The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning, he read. Then the soul-erosion produced by high gambling - a compost of greed and fear and nervous tension- becomes unbearable and the senses awake and revolt from it. *
What had he been doing reading children's books all this time? Alex sat, fully entranced, until his stomach rumbled a warning that it was long past supper time. Stiffly, he rose and stretched, looking around him at the wide world with a fresh perspective.
"I wonder if I could write something like this one day? The Case of the Royal Casino, by Alex Rodgers," he mumbled, as he walked towards Grand Central Station to catch the train home. "No, by Richard Rodgers. Rick Rodgers? Hmm. Ah well - I guess I've got plenty of time to figure it out."
As it would happen, he did.
* Opening paragraph from Casino Royale, written by Ian Fleming
Sometimes when the weather was warm and pleasant like today, Alex would sit with his back against the cool marble - he was partial to Fortitude, as his mom always said he lacked Patience - and catch up on the latest Encyclopedia Brown novels. He enjoyed reading and solving the mini mysteries, especially since he and Leroy Brown were the same age. Alex fancied the two of them even looked quite a bit alike, to judge from the cover art, from their slightly too long brown hair down to their blue Converse sneakers.
It must be interesting to have a father who was the Chief of Police, Alex thought, as he mulled over the solution to "The Case of the Mysterious Thief." A father who would share case notes around the dinner table, and actually listen to his son's input. Alex had never known his own father, and his mother steadfastly refused to talk about him. He didn't mind the paternal absence too much - it was hard to miss what you never had.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself when his mother was late getting home from the theater in the evening, and his Nanny was ignoring him in favor of yet another episode of One Life to Live.
Maybe he should become a private detective like Tom Selleck on Magnum, P.I.. Manhattan was sure to have more exciting cases than the fictional town of Idaville where Encyclopedia Brown lived, and surely he could charge more than twenty-five cents plus expenses to solve a case! Alex wondered if he would look good in a moustache and a trench coat, or if perhaps he should invest in a few Hawaiian shirts.
He wondered if he should become a cop. He would have fun with the police radio for sure. Alex held his book in front of him and pretended it was a walkie-talkie. "Roger that - Rodgers out."
He had years to make a decision - heck, he had to get through Junior High School first. Just as he was about to start reading "The Case of the Old Calendars," Alex became aware of a presence looming over him. He looked up, and was greeted by a kindly, weathered, unshaven face.
"I see you like reading mystery novels," the man said nonchalantly.
"Um... yeah. I'm getting pretty good at solving them, too," Alex replied, wondering where this was going.
"You might like this book, then," the man stated, proffering a well-worn paperback.
Alex took it from him and glanced at the cover. "Casino Royale," he read aloud, then flipped through to chapter one. He silently read the first few paragraphs.
"Wow... this is great stuff," Alex said after a few minutes had gone by. Reluctantly, he started to hand the book back.
The man waved him off and smiled gently. "No, son - that's yours now. Keep it. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do."
"Gosh, thanks Mister! I will," Alex replied, rocketing to his feet and offering his hand. “I'm Alex. Well, I mean, that's my middle name - I've been trying it on for size. Most folks call me Richard.”
The two shook hands briefly. "It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Richard, but unfortunately duty calls and I have a plane to catch."
"Oh, okay. Well, thanks for the book."
Within a few moments, the man had blended into the crowd. Alex sat down and re-opened Fleming's novel, flipping back to the start of the first chapter.
The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning, he read. Then the soul-erosion produced by high gambling - a compost of greed and fear and nervous tension- becomes unbearable and the senses awake and revolt from it. *
What had he been doing reading children's books all this time? Alex sat, fully entranced, until his stomach rumbled a warning that it was long past supper time. Stiffly, he rose and stretched, looking around him at the wide world with a fresh perspective.
"I wonder if I could write something like this one day? The Case of the Royal Casino, by Alex Rodgers," he mumbled, as he walked towards Grand Central Station to catch the train home. "No, by Richard Rodgers. Rick Rodgers? Hmm. Ah well - I guess I've got plenty of time to figure it out."
As it would happen, he did.
* Opening paragraph from Casino Royale, written by Ian Fleming