In “Slights”, one of the people who inhabit Stevie’s dark room is a shop keeper.
This is how I describe their interaction:
I liked to dig for hours on end, sleep, eat, buy my needs from Mrs Beattie at the corner shop. I really enjoyed entering that place. It was dark, cool, small, the goodies all lined up like a marching band. I loved picking things up and putting them down, just out of place, until Mrs Beattie said, “Can I help you?” as if I hadn’t worked there for three years, from the tender age of fifteen. Her arms were fatter than ever, and she hadn’t bought a new dress in years, so you could see a tight line of strain pressing into her flesh.
The thing she hated most was the way I bought lollies. I had half the kids doing it too; they had a fine instinct for what irritated an adult.
“I’ll have a red traffic light. And a green traffic light. And another red traffic light. And a yellow traffic light. And a green traffic light,” until my bag was full. I don’t even like lollies; I gave them to all the sugar-starved children.
The shop I describe was inspired by the corner shop where I lived in Rose Street, Annandale. I passed it every day but rarely shopped there, because, like many corner shops, it often didn’t have what I needed. It was indeed quite dark with a great sense of age about it. I can’t remember if the shopkeeper had fat arms or not!
Now the old shop has been turned into a cafe! Jonathan Shaw, at his Me Fail? I Fly! blog has photos and a description. Revolver looks fabulous from the photos. If I ever write another story about Stevie, I’ll have to make her go and order a coffee in an irritating way!
Here is Jonathan’s history of the shop.
Thanks for the plug, Kaaron. Now I’ll have to find a copy of Slights! I don’t know when you lived in Rose Street, but it was probably when the Pavan brothers ran the shop. You missed a couple of wonderful characters by not going in — former Queensland cane cutters, originally from northern Italy.
I’m sitting here feeling really guilty after reading your history of the shop. I did go in a few times, and can remember the layout and all. But I didn’t form any relationship with the shopkeeper and I am feeling sad about that!
I was there late 1988 to mid 1990. I loved living in Rose Street!
I think the Pavanes were then,Kaaron, but your shopkeeper with the fat arms is eerily predictive of the very large man who was there some years later. When a customer appeared he would stir himself from the online games he was evidently addicted to – t was a grim place in those years.
Local shops really are fascinating aren’t they? We had one close to where I live in Canberra which must have been vibrant at one stage, but was run-down and dirty. We used to go there to try to keep it open, but the milk was often out of date and my kids were scared of the woman who ran it. She was very kind but a bit too over-friendly. I hate to admit that I have used her in a story as well!
There’s a shop like that n Parramatta Road, Petersham, next door to what used to be a picture theatre. We’d buy movie ice creams there 15 years ago, and the adults were scared! It was like visiting a set for a spooky movie and the old man who ran it had skin so white it looked as if it hadn’t seen the sun for decades. Someone told me this week that it’s still there, and that he is as well.
Oooh, I’ll have to go and track the shop down next time I’m in town.
Before I leave Fiji I must take photos of the special shops I’ve discovered here. No scary ones, but lots of bizarre ones.