Untold Stories of Wapsi Square

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jwhouk
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Untold Stories of Wapsi Square

Post by jwhouk »

Not exactly fan fiction, but just perhaps some non-canonical writings about the Wapsiverse.

As a start (and example):

THE ANTIQUER

The bell on the top of the door rang as he entered the shop. He'd heard bells like that multiple times in the past few months, of course. It seemed to be almost a Minnesota state law that the front entrance to every antique store had to have a bell that rang when it was opened.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen ever antique store in Minnesota, of course. As an antique dealer and blogger, he had picked up on the popular obsession induced by the cable TV show American Pickers, and gone on a quest to visit every antique store in the Twin Cities area. His list had been considerable, and he had to update it regularly, but somehow he'd managed to get to practically every one that was "known" – that is, had been findable through the database of the Minnesota Antique Dealers Association, of which he was a member.

This one, though, was different. It had a strange history behind it: the shop had been somewhat active about a decade and a half ago, opening sometime in 1999, and then being listed with MADA in September of 2001. The shop's three-year membership had lapsed, and there had been speculation that perhaps the owners had been affected by the attacks on the World Trade Center or some such. No one had bothered to follow up on the lapse, because that wasn't what MADA did.

However, a year ago, the shop suddenly reappeared on the MADA membership roster. He had been somewhat surprised by this, since he couldn't recall ever actually seeing the shop. The last time he had been through the area, he thought it had become a photographic studio. In fact, when he plugged the address for the shop into a Google search, he got "AE Photography" as the result.

But the shop was still listed, and he had – by some level of serendipity – found it. The photography studio took up the top floor, apparently, while the antiques were in the lower floor of the brownstone building. There wasn't even a sign for the store that was visible from the street. Just a small, hand-printed sign that said "ANTIQUES" on the door, and an OPEN sign.

Once inside, he was hit by the familiar musty smell that pretty much all antique stores have. After all, they feature relics from days gone by, and as a result of aging they do carry the scent of such aging. There was a tinge of some other scents, though, that intrigued him. The scent wasn't a normal one – at least, not one you'd expect if you entered an antique shop in the Midwestern US. He tried to recall what it reminded him of. It hit him suddenly as he saw several posters on the wall for various bullfighting events and a Mexican advertisement for Coca-Cola.

He'd been to an antique shop in Monterrey, many years ago. The scent from that glorified swap meet was similar in many ways, mostly due to the dust and heat that had seemingly clung to the walls and furniture – even inside the shop he had visited. And though it wasn't exactly the same, the table and chairs that he saw in front of him – featuring a tablecloth and some various trinkets – was very similar.

He picked up a postcard that said, "Saludos de Monterrey" and a picture of one of the older cathedrals in the city underneath. It was only after he had placed it back down on the table that he was aware of another person in the shop.

"Hello," the person said. He was an older gentleman, in his 40's, with a slight greying around his temples and thinning hair up top. He had a bushy mustache that was speckled with grey, and he looked all the world like a taqueria owner. "Can I help you find anything?" His accent was upper Midwest, which wasn't entirely odd.

"Yes," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his business card. "My name's Howard Wilson. I'm a dealer over in Saint Paul, and a member of the Minnesota Antique Dealers Association." The man looked at the card somewhat nervously as I handed it to him.

"We are up to date with our dues," he replied tentatively. "There was just this little mistake about our membership renewal…" The protestation was met with a wave and a smile.

"I'm not here to query your membership," he explained. "I do reviews of shops in the Twin Cities area for the MADA blog. Your shop here had just shown back up on our active rolls, and I decided to stop in for a look." There was a pause as he looked at the somewhat eclectic state of the items in the shop. "I'm somewhat surprised at the quantity of items you have here, considering the amount of time we have you listed as being open." The man shrugged.

"My co-owner and I are a bit picky about the items we carry," he explained. "For the longest time, we hadn't really increased our inventory of goods. That was partially my fault." He shrugged. "It's hard to work on procuring items for a store when you're stuck in an archeological dig in Central America." He stuck out his hand. "Royal Garcia-Sanchez. Everyone calls me Roy, though." It was a good, firm handshake, from obviously weathered hands.

Wilson queried about the archeological dig as he looked around a bit at some of the items in a display case – a case that looked suspiciously made for pastry display. "I was out doing some research on Mayan ruins in the Chiapas district of Mexico, for the Minnesota State Historical Museum. Really interesting stuff. Some of it was your run-of-the-mill glyphs and pictograms, but there were a couple of interesting finds." He pointed out to me an old weathered coin in a box in the display case – with a price tag that is way out of the blogger's budget. "I found that old Spanish doubloon in Palenque. One of the locals sold it to me for only a few pesos. I had it assayed by a specialist – and he discovered it was legit."

"Thus the price tag," Howard noted. Roy shrugged.

"Yeah, not too many buyers for something like that," he said with a sigh. He made a motion with his hands. "Feel free to look around, ask questions if you have any." Howard nodded in assent, and went off to inspect the goods of the shop.

It was somewhat surprising that, in addition to your somewhat run-of-the-mill items – old typewriters, dolls, flatware and china – there were odd beer steins, a few World War II memorabilia items, and a Guinness toucan advertisement. Wilson asked about the sign.

"Oh, that's courtesy of my co-owner's family," he said. "Her grandfather was a WWII vet, and he loved things like these. I understand he didn't drink Guinness, though," he said with a pause.

"Is she any relation?" he asked in return.

"My cousin, on my mom's side," he explained. "Her dad is my mom's older sister." The explanation was accepted with a nod, and his attention came upon what appeared to be a large upright safe. The word "REMINGTON" on the front piqued his interest.

"And this?"

"Oh, that's another interest of my co-owner – antique firearms." He procured a key ring from a holder on his belt, flipped through the keys, and found one that he used to turn a tumbler inside the large four-prong handle on the front. "The safe is an original, too," he explained. He removed the key, turned the handle meticulously counter-clockwise, and with a little tug opened the door. The insides revealed what appeared to be a handful of rifles, and one or two revolvers – the latter tucked away in special enclaves in the door. "The guns aren't for sale, however," he said. "We aren't licensed for those."

He was impressed by the safe – but wondered aloud why the guns were stored in there. "It's not like this is an exceptionally terrible neighborhood of Minneapolis," he stated.


"These were her grandpa's guns," he explained. "She has one that she keeps at home with her, but the rest are here. We use 'em to display the safe." He shrugged with a smile. "And, to keep them locked up. Hiding in plain sight, I guess you'd say." He pushed the door back, then turned the handle clockwise – to a click and a loud THUNK. "They don't make 'em like they used to," he said.

The browser continued over the rest of the shop – which, he found with some disappointment, was on the small side. He asked Roy about it. His response came with a bit of a sigh.

"She's not as into the antiquing business as she used to be," he explained patiently. "A lot of the reason why we hadn't renewed our membership was because she didn't even bother to open the shop some days. If her friend hadn't kept an eye on the place on occasion, I don't think some of this stuff would even be here."

"Friend?"

"Yeah, the photographer upstairs. Ehrlich. She does some advertising work, some art nouveau stuff, and a lot of personal portraits. Saw a neat series she did a few weeks ago for some teenager who was cosplaying as an angel." He paused for a moment. "Or, at least I think it was an angel. I couldn't quite tell."

The bell rang again as a taller, matronly woman with dirty blonde hair and glasses walked in. She looked all the world to Wilson like a librarian – albeit one who you would not want to cross.

"Hello, Roy," she said in way of greeting. "I have a few more books that Monica wanted me to bring over for you."

"Hey, Phix," he replied with a nod. "Anything interesting?"

"She managed to procure an early-run copy of James Joyce's Ulysses," she said, placing it down on the counter. "And a few Spanish language textbooks – I believe she said this one was poetry." The woman turned with a smile to Howard. "I didn't know you were busy with a customer, though!"

Howard introduced himself, explaining that he was a blogger who wrote reviews of antique shops in the Twin Cities area. "Oh, how very interesting!" she said. "I may have to look that up when I get in to work."

"Phix here works at a research library here in the Twin Cities," Roy explained. "It's private, but she does occasionally come up with some interesting finds for older books."

"They're ones that we already have copies of," she explains. "We're more or less a historical depository, and like any other library, we do occasionally remove some of the older books from circulation." She smiled. "We happened to discover duplicate versions of these, so we kept the better conditioned copy of the two." Howard looked at the book that she had just placed down on the counter.

"Those look like they're in pretty good condition, though," he pointed out.

"We do take very good care of our older works," she explained. She turned to Roy. "Just these three books, Roy. There's no pressure to sell them right away, though." Roy nodded.

"As always," he said. "Tell Monica thanks for me. And that she does need to stop by sometime. It is, after all, her shop." Phix smiled.

"She has told me that." She nodded at the two and headed out the door. Howard idly thumbed through one of the textbooks, which he couldn't quite make out since he couldn't read Spanish well.

After she had left, it struck him that the name "Phix" was rather odd – and he mentioned this to Roy.

"I think it's a contraction of her full name," he said. "I think she told me once that it wasn't easily pronounceable in English."

"That's surprising," Howard mused. "It sounds like she had a very proper English accent."

"Oh, she's got a Grecian background," he told him. "I think that's where her name comes from."

"So," Howard said, changing the subject, "does your cousin ever set foot in this place?" Roy shook his head.

"It's been a while," he replied. "I think the last time was a few months ago, after her birthday. She does occasionally stop in if she's visiting Amanda upstairs, but other than that… nada."

"She sounds like an interesting woman," was Howard's reply. Roy chuckled a bit.

"She's a bookworm," he told him. "Mostly does research at the historical museum, and brings home a lot more from that than she ever could selling these antiques." He picked up the copy of Ulysses. "Of course, I could probably get a good chunk of change selling this to a book dealer. That might be why she had Phix drop it off here."

"Antique dealerships are more of a hobby sometimes than a business," Howard commented. "Sometimes, though, you do find things worth your while."

"Yeah, but it's not much to write home about," Roy said, finally. "It's a boring business most of the time, regardless of what you might see on those 'What's It Worth?' television shows."

"You got that right. I think I make more off the reviews and the things I write about antiquing than I do in the actual business." He paused for a moment. "I think your cousin has the better end of the deal, though. A large enough salary to do research while living comfortably would be a dream job."

"I thought so, too," he said. "After the decade I spent out in the field, you couldn't pay me enough to stay on in the business." He gestured around the shop. "That's why I've gotten back into running this place for the two of us. She gets to indulge in her occasional whims for older items, and I get to keep most of the profits. At least, the money I have saved up from my field work has helped to keep my overhead low. What I do get – things like this book, a few pieces of furniture or even period clothing – does get into the hands of individuals who are willing to pay for it."

"That's about as good as you can get, I'd think," Howard acknowledged. He proffered his hand. "Good meeting you, and good luck to you." Roy shook his hand.

"I'm not gonna guarantee that we're going to be consistent about the dues," he said somewhat apologetic. "Monica's been talking about letting Amanda expand downstairs here."

"I think she'll have you covered either way, it sounds like," Howard said in departure. He waved as he exited the shop into the afternoon sun.

This is going to be an interesting write-up, he thought to himself as he headed back to his car. He had already gotten into his car and had started his drive back to his house out in the suburbs when he realized he'd never asked the name of the shop. "Roy and Monica's Antiques" sounded a little dull to him as a name, but he couldn't recall what the proper name of the shop was.

He shrugged, figuring he could look it up when he got home.
Last edited by jwhouk on Tue May 20, 2014 7:20 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
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shadowinthelight
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Re: Untold Stories of Wapsi Square

Post by shadowinthelight »

Adding to the unofficial Wapsi Expanded Universe? I hope one day we get a canon story giving more background for Roy.
jwhouk wrote:Saw a neat series she did a few weeks ago for some teenager who was cosplaying as an angel." He paused for a moment. "Or, at least I think it was an angel. I couldn't quite tell."
Was this cosplayer an eater of chocolate cake? ;)
Julie, about Wapsi Square wrote:Oh goodness yes. So much paranormal!

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Mark N
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Re: Untold Stories of Wapsi Square

Post by Mark N »

shadowinthelight wrote:Adding to the unofficial Wapsi Expanded Universe? I hope one day we get a canon story giving more background for Roy.
jwhouk wrote:Saw a neat series she did a few weeks ago for some teenager who was cosplaying as an angel." He paused for a moment. "Or, at least I think it was an angel. I couldn't quite tell."
Was this cosplayer an eater of chocolate cake? ;)
I guess Roy does not know who Rainbow Dash is. :geek:
Also, great little story. :D
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