Andrew didn’t know why he offered to host that homeless person. He looked young, about Andrew’s age. The thought that he had been sleeping on benches in the park made Andrew’s stomach turn.

That could have easily been Andrew. If he wasn’t careful with his money. If he hadn’t started to prepare for life out of the orphanage five years ago. He once again thanked his mother silently for having signed him in home economics.

Sure, he hadn’t liked going there, at first. It had too much math and, even though the teacher let them use the calculator, it had been boring at the start. Until he decided to apply his lessons to real life and had seen that yes, he did have enough money for everything he wanted. He just needed to save them up, first.

Thinking of his mother, he decided to visit her and his father’s graves after work this Sunday. He would go to church first, get some candles, and bring them flowers too. Maybe some cookies too. They had always loved cookies.

The bell chimed, and he saw a customer come in. It was a dark-haired woman who was dressed simply, but elegantly. He straightened up. Even though he was not wearing a suit, he wore some of his most official clothes. A blue shirt with a white pullover over it and dress pants. And he had his expensive leather shoes on. Truly, he knew he looked presentable.

The woman didn’t even try to browse, and she made a beeline for the counter.

“I am searching for a gift,” she said, eyes shifting. “Something occult.”

Andrew nodded and he looked around. There were the African wooden masks, but he doubted that it was what she wanted. They were easy to be seen from the entrance and would have caught her attention.

The teen moved around the shop. Then, he found it. It was more of a joke, really. Something Karl had told him he had gotten off a circus gift shop. It was supposed to be a Grimoire, but it only had pictures and diagrams inside. No words.

He picked up the book and carried it over.

“We have this Grimoire. It was written by a fortune-teller,” the woman’s eyes widened at that and Andrew continued. “Some spells inside date back to the Roman expansion to Britain.”

He had checked the book before, when things were slow. Some things inside had Latin in them. So, while he might be lying, he also might not be. The woman opened the book and looked around.

“Everything is hand drawn?” Andrew nodded. Yes, it had been scanned and printed, but everything had been hand drawn before that.

“You must be careful, if you buy this. Some of the people who have used the other copies have managed to summon spirits. It is only their luck that no harm came to them,” the woman seemed to be drinking in every word, and Andrew allowed himself a smile.

“Abby will like this,” said the woman.

“We also offer mini cauldrons. They are good paperweights,” they were left from last Halloween and Karl had told Andrew to get rid of them, if he could. The woman nodded, not really paying attention. Andrew took out one of the cauldron paperweights and bagged it, then, he bagged the book too and the trance in which the woman had been was lifted.

“That would be twenty-five dollars,” said Andrew, and the woman pulled out the money. Just the book costed twenty-three. The paper weight being much cheaper. “Have a nice day, and please recommend us to your friends.”

“I will rate you on Google,” promised the woman, taking her bag and rushing out of the shop. Andrew smiled. A couple more customers like that, and he could tell Karl he had done his quota. He got some extra money for when he made more than twenty sales per day, when the sales were over twenty dollars.

The bell rang again and a man entered. He was old and had a cane, on which he leaned on heavily. He began to browse and Andrew left him to it. When the man stopped at a painting of a rose, Andrew made his way to him.

“This was made by an up-and-coming painter. William Higgs,” Andrew knew because William had been selling his paintings on the corner next to the orphanage. He could recognize his style anywhere. 

“William is a good boy,” commented the old man. “But he charges an arm and a leg.”

Which was the truth. But this painting had been bought on the cheap from a woman who no longer wanted it. So, Karl had gotten it for a hundred dollars. Which meant that Andrew had to sell it for no less than a hundred and fifty.

“This piece costs a hundred and fifty dollars,” Andrew pointed at the price tag and the old man squinted at it.

“An arm and a leg, even here,” the old man chuckled and turned to leave, but Andrew got an idea.

“We have prints of roses which cost no more than five dollars. The frames are original wood and they cost twenty. I can show you a couple, if you’d like?” The man turned back and planted himself before the counter.

Andrew pulled out the prints and frames from behind the counter and arrayed them before the man. Bouquets with all kinds of combinations were to be seen, and the old man would lift them one by one before shaking his head.

“I want something that was made by a professional,” he said, and Andrew got another idea.

“I can have the painting you liked scanned for you and you can buy it for five dollars, plus the cost of the scan. Would you like it in photo paper or A4?” The old man nodded vigorously.

“Can you make me a postcard instead? I’ll pay you ten dollars for everything,” Andrew nodded. He could take a picture on his phone and then work on the card on the photo editor on his laptop. He had made all the cards for birthdays and the like back in the orphanage. So, he was good at it.  

“You will need to prepay. Shop policy,” the man grumbled, but took out ten dollars and handed them over. Andrew typed a card in the program where he accounted for the wares that were sold, and a receipt was printed. “Please keep this on yourself. Come back tomorrow with it. We open at eight.”

The taping of the cane was to be heard soon after, and the man exited the shop. Andrew went and took a picture of the painting that the man had liked. Satisfied, he went back behind the counter.