Confluence - 6. The Shop Opens

Painters were clearing their drop-cloths and ladders from the shop as Jonas and Walter Aiken surveyed the space. “Very nicely done, Owen, my boy,” Jonas said.

Ellie beamed with pride. “Isn’t it the best? And the soda fountain -- isn’t it gorgeous?”

The Aikens surveyed the gleaming marble and shining metals. “Spectacular,” Walter said.

Owen ducked his head in their direction. “I couldn’t have done it without the three Aikens. I really am very grateful.”

“Very happy to help,” Jonas said. “Very happy to keep the town’s most modern advances in the family.”

“Very happy to increase our share of the town over Woodworth,” Walter said in a lower tone.

“Oh, Uncle, you’re such an empire-builder!” Ellie swatted his arm.

Layne ran his hand along a display case. “I think Mister Owen has achieved a good balance. The soda fountain, and the pharmacy, and the section where the soaps and salves and other little things will be, and the area for the newspapers and magazines, are in just the right proportion.”

“Owen and his magazines!” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose they can’t do any harm, and it is his shop, after all.”

“Take note -- you heard it from her very lips. It is my shop,” Owen said.

“No question about that, Owen. The important thing is that it’s in the family,” Jonas said. “And when will you be family, Owen? When’s the date?”

Owen looked down. “We haven’t set a date yet.”

Walter clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve been busy, of course, but now that you’re going to be opening in a week, you’ll have time. Don’t put it off too long.”

“No, sir.”

“Strike while the iron is hot, don’t you agree, Doctor Layne?”

Layne looked at Owen. “A hot iron is not to be ignored, certainly.”

Owen looked around the shop. “I don’t know how I’m going to run the pharmacy and sell the sundries and run the soda fountain all at the same time.”

“Dear, we’ve talked about this,” Ellie said. “We agreed you were going to hire someone to run the soda fountain.”

“I wish I knew who,” Owen said.

“Paulie,” Layne said quietly, “I’d like to talk to you about that. You remember the man in my surgery who lost two fingers? Jim Schaefer? He’s healing very well. But the mill won’t take him back. He’s convinced that no one will hire him.”

“He’s not really a man that I would picture in the position. And I don’t know if I could pay him enough.”

“Then hire his wife.”

“Or hire them both half-time.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“I was joshing!”

“Anyway, think about it. Even if it’s only temporary, it would help him to find other work if he can show that he held down a job with eight fingers.”

“Win?”

“Yes?”

“I would do anything you asked of me. Anything.” His hand happened to brush casually across Layne’s thigh. “If Schaefer is interested, tell him to come and see me.”

******************************************

The grand opening of Owen’s Pharmacy attracted lines of customers two blocks long, mostly to try an ice cream soda. Jim Schaefer, still learning to use his maimed hand, was careful and slow in all his movements, so any time there were three customers within five minutes of each other, there was a line -- and this attracted attention.

Everything he served at the soda fountain was immensely popular. Ellie hit on the idea of advertising a low price for ice cream sodas on opening day only, which convinced those who doubted the worth of such a new-fangled thing to give it a try. And those who tried one were hooked.

Owen rushed to and fro, more than he needed to, really, operating the cash register, re-arranging displays, restocking ice and frantically ordering more, and worrying about prescriptions. Jordan unobtrusively helped in the pharmacy, in fact did most of the work there.

Dr. Layne visited in the early afternoon, just as Ellie was about to take over for Owen and send him off to lunch.

“You look rushed off your feet,” Layne said.

“Oh, we are,” Ellie said.

“I’m going crazy,” Owen said.

“But it’s a success! A great success!” Layne smiled.

“I need a break from this,” Owen said. “Doctor Layne, let’s go for a stroll.”

“Don’t worry. I can handle everything,” Ellie called after them.

“She certainly can,” Owen said.

“Paulie,” Layne said as they emerged into the sunlight, “where would you like to go?”

“Well, there’s a beautiful spot by the river, right where the Winnipesaukee flows under a covered bridge.”

“I meant for lunch, you young dissolute.”

“Let’s go to Grogan’s for something quick. I should get back as soon as I can and take over the soda fountain so Jim can get a break.”

“Lead on.”

*************************

Arthur Evans surveyed the unsold newspapers at the front of his tobacco shop. Bert Lippincott, proprietor of the grocery store next to him, stood outside his front door, arms folded.

“I hear Owen’s is selling newspapers from all over the country, and Europe, and probably China and Japan as well,” Evans commented. “I haven’t sold a paper in two days.”

“I haven’t sold a ginger pop in two days,” Lippincott noted. “Everyone’s crazy for these ice cream sodas, or buying their ginger pop at Owen’s.”

“People run after anything new. There’s no loyalty,” Evans said sadly.

“We’re not the only ones with trade down,” Lippincott added. “Owen’s is cutting into a lot of businesses. Good, established businesses.”

“Ain’t right.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“Someone oughta do something about it.”

“I don’t know about you,” Lippincott said, and spat into the street, “but I think it’s unchristian, and I intend to speak to Reverend Fielden about it.”

“You can tell him I feel the same.”

***********************************

Doc Lawson cut into his pork chops as if he intended to saw the plate in half. “I’m not happy, Joe, not happy at all. I’ve lost half my patients to that Southerner with his new-fangled ideas.”

Reverend Fielden swallowed a mouthful of sausage and gravy. “I’m sorry, Bill, but I don’t see that there’s anything I can do about it.”

“You could speak up about it. People running after every new little fad, it’s disloyal, it’s disruptive, it’s not their better nature. I would think they would know better, with that boy Jordan handling delicate medical instruments. What business does he have doing that? And filling half the prescriptions at Owen’s pharmacy. Layne’s nothing but a charlatan, a fancy-talking nigger-lover.”

Fielden shook his head. “Now, Bill, you can’t hold it against a man just because he’s colored. He can’t help it.”

Lawson put his fork down and stared at the Reverend. “I’m not talking about that boy, I’m talking about Layne. Something needs to be done to put him back in his place. As our native son Daniel Webster said, whatever makes men good Christians, makes them good citizens. And vice versa, as far as I’m concerned. A good citizen isn’t a flibbertigibbet, always chasing the latest novelty. You’ve got to say something.”

“You’re asking me to speak directly about one person. Well, two people, if you include young Mr. Owen.”

Lawson leaned forward. “And what is it about young Mister Owen and Doctor Layne? They seem to be in on everything together. What are they up to? There’s something peculiar there. A little too friendly. Thick as thieves, I’d say, if I didn’t have a different crime in mind. And I don’t think you’d want to get a reputation for being too soft on that kind of thing.”

“Now how can I say anything against Owen? He’s partners with the Aikens. They’re the ones who searched me out for this pulpit.”

“If you don’t, you might not have much of a pulpit. I have quite a few merchants ready to jump ship to another church if you don’t do something. Your collection plate might start to look a little empty.”

“Now don’t be like that, Bill. I can’t just come out with a barefaced attack on two of Franklin’s citizens when they haven’t done anything wrong. You and Evans and Lippincott seem to think I have a lot more persuasive power than I really do.”

“I don’t know how much you have. I haven’t heard you try. If you don’t at least try, what I said earlier stands.”

“I’ll have to be very careful how I go about this.”

Lawson pushed his plate away. “Don’t be so careful that folks can’t understand what you’re saying. Otherwise, you might seem to be endorsing that Layne-and-Owen lovefest, and a queer thing like that tends to rub off. On you. Plain speaking, Joe. That’s the New England way, and that’s the best way."