The night before the store was to open, Max walked in at his usual just-after-dark time. This time he carried what appeared to be a bottle of celebratory wine.
David had been working tirelessly all day to clean the storefront, put finishing touches on the sign, and set up the striped awning. Millions Books, the sign read in a freshly painted, dazzling white. Other small adverts littered the front window, including a "Buy Sell Trade" sign, and "Rare Books!" posted near the door.
"Fantastic!" Max announced, looking thoroughly pleased about how quickly this shamble of a store had become a pristine used bookstore. He sat down in one of the plump reading chairs and sat the bottle on the table. "Have a seat, David. You look like you could use a break."
"Thank you, sir. I wanted to finish the front today." He took a seat opposite Max and looked at the bottle. Suddenly feeling a bit awkward in the still silence, he glanced up and noticed Max staring directly at him. Shit, he thought. I finished the work, now he's finished with me. Out on the streets again, David.
"David," Max said. David snapped out of his morose thoughts and focused on a spot on the table. "I wanted to discuss your future." Or lack thereof? Shit. "You've done a magnificent job on my store, and you've gained my trust thus far. As you know, I hired two others that will be starting tomorrow when the store opens." At this point he pulled a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and began unfolding it. "These are the guidelines for working the daytime hours. They cover the basics for running the store while I am away. I want you…" To what? Hand this to the others on my way out the door? David thought to himself. His mouth had a bitter taste as he continued to stare at the spot on the table. "...To go over this with the others tomorrow. I want you to lead a brief meeting before the store opens to make sure everyone is on the same page, and that the first day runs as smoothly as possible."
David's heart leapt. He wasn't homeless after all. His meager storeroom accommodations were still his, and his small - but steady - pay was secure. Again he found himself looking directly into Max's eyes, only to be met with a look of fatherly respect and compassion. However rare a look this was to David, it was a look that any boy would recognize.
"Now, how about a toast?" Max suggested, pointing to the wine bottle.
"Yes sir!" David replied, simultaneously jumping from the chair and running to the back for a couple of glasses. He returned quickly and Max poured them each a glass.
"To Millions Books?" David suggested.
"To the future," replied Max, and downed a gulp of the thick red wine. David followed suit, and found a most unique flavor sliding down his tongue. He had to shut his eyes to fully enjoy what seemed to be liquid velvet, a bittersweet aroma followed the taste as he inhaled slightly the scent rising from his glass. He found himself completely absorbed by his own senses, so much so that his head began to spin slowly.
Opening his eyes, he noticed the room spinning to match his head. Max's face was clear compared to his surroundings, and his voice was nearly a whisper in David's head.
"David," he seemed to say, though his lips did not move. Max tipped his glass up again. "To your future."
David took another intoxicating drink from his own glass. He had been drunk before, but this was different. This was bliss. He watched dazedly as Max corked the ornate bottle and carried it with him to the back room. What's going on? David thought to himself, though he did not entirely care to know the answer. Max's toast to the future kept breezing through his mind in whispers, and he found himself giving in entirely to the fuzz that quickly filled his vision.
Careful not to tip anything over, including himself, he got up and stumbled toward the storeroom. He waved a drunken 'goodnight' to Max through the adjacent door before closing his own door behind him and falling into a heap under his clothes. The following morning came far too quickly, and David was fortunate enough to escape the immediate pain of sunlight on his blurred eyes by the fact that the storeroom was windowless.