Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [23]
Valkyrie smiled as she walked up. “Is there a problem?” she asked.
“This man won’t leave me alone,” said the shopkeeper.
The American frowned at him. “I’m trying to buy something.”
The shopkeeper ignored him. “He just won’t leave.”
The American turned to Valkyrie. “We came into this store—”
“It’s not a store,” interrupted the shopkeeper, “it’s a shop.”
“Fine,” the American growled. “We came into this shop ten minutes ago. My kids picked out what they wanted, brought them up to the counter to pay. This jerk stood there, right where he is now, looking up at the ceiling while we tried to get his attention.”
“I was ignoring them,” said the shopkeeper. “I had heard that if you ignore them, they go away. This one did not go away.”
“You’re damn right I’m not going away. I’m a customer and you will serve me.”
The shopkeeper sneered. “We don’t serve your kind here.”
“You don’t serve Americans?”
“I don’t serve mortals.”
The American raised his eyebrows at Valkyrie. “And then he starts with this nonsense.”
Valkyrie looked at the shopkeeper. “Wouldn’t it be easier at this stage to just let him buy the stuff and leave?”
The shopkeeper shook his head. “You do that for one of them, you’ll have to do it for all of them.”
“For all of who? There isn’t anyone else waiting out there.”
“They’ll hear about it, though.”
“Hear about it?” the American said. “Hear about this little shop in the middle of nowhere where I actually bought something? First of all, I don’t even know where we are! Far as I can tell, it’s not on any of our maps. I can find that dirty lake out there, but there’s not supposed to be any freaky little town beside it.”
“If you didn’t know there was anything here,” the shopkeeper said, “then how did you find us?”
“We’re sightseeing.”
“Sightseeing,” the shopkeeper said, “or spying?”
“Spying? On you? Why the hell would we spy on you? You’re a lunatic with a crummy little store who seems to have a pathological need to not sell anything to his customers.”
“I’m sorry,” said the shopkeeper, “I can’t understand your ridiculous accent.”
“My accent?”
“It is quite silly.”
“So you can’t understand me?”
“Not a word.”
“Then how did you understand that?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t understand what I just said?”
“That’s right.”
“You understood that, though.”
“Not at all.”
The American glowered. “I swear to God, I will reach across this counter and I will punch you right in the mouth.”
“Uh,” Valkyrie said, “I think we should all calm down a little. Sir, as you may have guessed, this isn’t the friendliest town in the world. You go to any other town in the area, I can guarantee that you will be greeted with the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen. But they do things differently here.”
“We just stopped off for some soda for my kids. And I’m not leaving until this guy takes my money and gives me my change.”
“Please,” Valkyrie said to the shopkeeper, “take his money.”
The shopkeeper lowered his eyes to the money on the counter. His lip curling distastefully, he placed a finger on the note and dragged it to the till.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” the American asked. The shopkeeper ignored him, and spilled a few coins on to the counter. With a sigh, he looked up. “Happy?”
The American stuffed the change in his pocket then picked up the drinks. “I heard the Irish were especially friendly.”
“That was before anyone ever came here,” the shopkeeper told him. “Now we’re exactly as friendly as everyone else.”
The American narrowed his eyes, but managed to restrain himself from slipping further into the argument. “I’m going to walk out of here. Someone as rude as you, you’re not worth my time.”
The shopkeeper didn’t respond. He had gone back to looking up at the ceiling.
Valkyrie escorted the American to his car. “I’m really sorry about that,” she said.