tapes.
A relative of Manny Cooper owned The Video Coop. William thought it might be a
nephew, though he wasn’t sure. Manny’s family ran several businesses around town,
with the diner being the oldest. William remembered when the video store opened in
1993.
The store’s owner never showed up like Manny did. William had never met him.
According to Dave, they could do whatever they wanted. The one rule William knew:
Dave could no longer have a weekly pick due to a couple of his more risqué choices.
Through the window, William spotted Ed behind the counter, but he couldn’t see
Dave, even though he parked next to his Chevette in the lot.
“Hey, William,” Ed greeted him as he entered.
“What's up, Ed?” William asked, not expecting an answer.
“Just rewinding videos and adding fees to accounts,” Ed replied.
The store felt more relaxed than the corporate chains nearby. Employees didn’t wear
name tags or uniforms. A few customers had even assumed
William worked there since he was around so often during his friends’ shifts.
He figured Dave had dimmed half the lights again, letting the neon signs above the
new releases cast eerie glows across the shelves.
“Well, well, well,” a voice called out. William couldn’t tell which shelf it came
from, but he recognized it. Dave.
“Why, that sounds like William Further. But this isn't Señorita Sanchez's
sixth-hour Spanish class.”
“It's Señora Sanchez,” Ed corrected automatically.
Dave popped up from behind the Romance shelf. “Ed, please. I’m making a point.” Ed
mouthed the word ‘sorry’ and Dave continued, “This isn’t Señorita—” He shot Ed