The Red Chestnut Bookstore

Saul Richfield owned the Red Chestnut Bookstore.  It was located on the east side of Shattuck Avenue in Berkeley, a little north and west of the University of California.  The store contained a tasteful collection of new and used books, a substantial number of which were on intellectual subjects.  But what made the store unique was that every evening at 7:30, except Mondays and Wednesdays, there was a reading of poetry or prose, or a discussion of a book, often by the author, and sometimes followed by a book signing.  These events took place near the back of the bookstore, where 30 chairs were arranged facing a podium.  They were usually attended by from fifteen to thirty people, adults and teenagers.  Children had to be accompanied Children had to be accompanied by an adult. Occasionally, more than thirty people showed up, and a few had to be turned away. The sessions normally lasted an hour or less.

Various interest groups, including political groups, could apply to use the chairs and podium on Monday and Wednesday evenings, or on any other evening if a book reading was not scheduled. Any group using the premises had to confine itself to one hour and had to promise not to make much noise. Also groups had to be limited to thirty people. If more than one group applied for the same evening, Saul made a decision based on his personal feelings. He favored groups with progressive ideas.

The store was successful by the standard of having a large number of sales, but the rent was high and the wages paid to his staff were a little more than they needed to be. As a consequence, Saul did not make a large profit. However, he was able to live comfortably in a rented apartment within easy walking distance of the store and a somewhat longer walk to the university. He did not own a car, and this fact helped insure that the money he made was sufficient. Instead, he often went places by bicycle. His bike had 21 speeds, and there were few hills too steep to manage. He knew his way around town well enough to avoid such hills.

He was only thirty-one years old and did not worry about health insurance. He did, however, put aside a small amount every month that could eventually be used for retirement, or, in a pinch, for health care. Also, during his five years of ownership, he had built up an extensive (and expensive) inventory of books, and these were insured. He had a PhD in comparative literature from the university and wrote short stories and poetry, most of which he managed to get published in obscure literary magazines. His earnings from these successful efforts were minimal.

He was about six feet tall, had straight dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and a slim build. He was unmarried, but two or three times a week a graduate student at Cal named Sara Bernstein joined him for a late dinner at 9:15 after the store closed, and then usually shared his double bed. She was twenty-three and was studying English literature for the PhD.  Once he had asked her to move in with him, but she was content to live in an apartment she shared with two other women attending the university.

It was not an easy task to find someone to read or discuss something interesting at the bookstore five evenings a week. Occasionally Saul asked his employees whether one of them had something to talk about or else led a discussion himself. Very rarely, in a pinch, he was forced to put up a sign announcing that there would be no reading on a certain date. Normally, on Monday mornings he put out an announcement of the week’s schedule and taped it to the front door. Additional copies lay on the counter near the cash register, and customers, whether they bought anything or not, could take copies home with them.

One evening in early August of 2007, Sara was eating dinner with Saul in his apartment. The place had a living dining room with a table and four chairs, a sofa, several easy chairs, a few lamps, a TV and DVD player, a CD player and a radio, and prints of old, famous paintings on the walls. It also had a kitchen large enough for a table to seat two, a bathroom with shower and tub, and a bedroom with a double bed, lamps, and a desk on which stood a computer.

When they finished eating, Saul looked at Sara affectionately. She was five feet, five inches tall, had medium brown hair, brown eyes, a handsome face, and a figure that he thought was just right.

His good mood was broken when she said, “Let’s take a vacation somewhere, say for two weeks.”

“I don’t like to leave the store that long at one time.”

“You’re becoming a slave to the store. We haven’t had a real vacation during the whole year we’ve known each other. I need a vacation and I need