Chapter Text
PROLOGUE: THE RING
Tuesday, 13th June 2010
Arcadia Bay, Oregon – Arcadia Pawn
Larry carefully considers the clothes on the rack, staring at them with his beady eyes like the shirts owe him unpaid money. That’s how Larry views everything and everyone, like it owes him money. Everything has to have financial value, and everyone has a price willing to pay.
That’s the only way to be a pawn shop owner. You can’t take things personally. Otherwise you’ll run into every sob story in the town and handing out discounts like candy. Then you’ll make no money, no profit, you can’t pay off the rent and your nasty bitch of an ex-wife won’t let you see your son ever again.
Take for example all this jewellery and these rings he had collected over the years. Every one that had come in had probably some attachment to someone. Maybe they were a gift, or a family heirloom, or maybe even a promise. Now they’re just chickens waiting in line to be regifted to someone else.
Larry looks up to do another sweep of his pawn shop. He has to remain vigilant. God knows what that terrible loser he calls a cashier is doing for security. He does another swoop of the front of the store, just checking on the dwindling number he calls his customer base.
There’s a customer! A new one, someone Larry doesn’t recognise. She’s short, a pale skinned woman dressed in midnight blue-black. She’s wearing a long brimmed black hat and stylish boots. Maybe a tourist, maybe a visitor. Definitely someone with money.
“Hello Miss, can I please ask you to take your hat off indoors?” Larry asks. It may be for politeness, but it’s really so that he could capture her face on the overhead cameras. Just in case this new woman tries something funny.
“Says who?” asks the lady. She’s got a funny little hit to her accent. Tourist, definitely tourist.
“Uh, me,” says Larry defiantly, “I’m Honest Larry. I own this joint. How can I help you Miss?”
This story will not have a satisfying ending.
“Ah yes, Honest Larry, of course, my apologies,” says the lady, as though she can know exactly how honest Larry can be. She takes off her hat and rubs in her hands, revealing a pale face with dark makeup and red lips. She smiles slightly, a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, a smile that looks wrong with her mouth. “Say, Honest Larry, I am looking for a particular ring.”
This work is rated for Teen and Up Audiences. The content may be inappropriate for audiences under 13.
Larry is caught a little off guard by this polite woman, a woman with a wrong smile. His salesman resurfaces and says, “Come right this way, we have all the rings money can buy.” The two of them head to the glass counter and gaze upon the layers of rings glimmering in shiny rows. “We’ve got all types and colours,” says Larry, “Gold, diamonds, onyx, white, blue, black, you name it, it’s all here.”
The content of this work is purely fictional, it is not intended to represent or depict any actual event, person, or entity, and any such similarities are purely coincidental.
“Say there’s perhaps a diamond ring, near colourless?” says the lady, “Nothing too expensive, I am on a budget. Around the five hundred range?”
The writer of this work does not in any way endorse, condone, or encourage engaging in any conduct depicted in this work.
“A diamond ring you say?” says Larry as he looks over the merchandise. The lady has a budget, he wonders how much he can rip her off with the worst he’s got. “We got diamond rings. I think I even put out one this morning.”
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The lady points to a certain ring, one with a small diamond and a golden band. Larry does a quick appraisal. Probably a Grade B. In fact, probably the one he did put out this morning. It was pawned in, and the owner didn’t come back for it.
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Larry goes around the counter and carefully picks the ring out from behind the glass, while the lady fumbles in her pocket with expensive green bills. He takes this service personally, wringing up the counter for $450. A steal at this extravagant price. The lady could’ve gone to any other jewellery store and bought unused.
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The transaction is made, the merchandise is handed over, and the lady departs without another word. Holding the ring between her fingers, and a cruel smile on her lips.
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Larry takes a moment to wonder over the strange customer, and why she wanted that particular ring anyway, and how come she didn’t even haggle over the price. Then he moves on. New customers to deal with, new merchandise to haggle, new money to be made.
It’s not like that ring had any sentimental value anyway.