59 A Book Salesman I’m Not

My senior year at Laurelwood seemed to fly by and before you could catch your breath graduation had come and gone and I was home for the summer. Home as you might have guessed was not on Read Island but at Oyster Bay on Vancouver Island where our house now sat on its foundation on Fosgate Road, about halfway between Courtenay and Campbell River, just off the island highway.

I am not sure if my decision to work all summer to earn my tuition for college by selling books was in any way based on my Uncle Gig’s success as a book salesman, but the plan was ill conceived at best and as it turned out, the gift of selling was not passed on, at least to me.

Before embarking on such and endeavor one day of training was required which consisted of following the ABC bookman around from house to house, as he demonstrated his selling techniques. It escapes me if he actually sold anything during his demo but far to soon it was my turn to show my stuff. His was the easy part; my part was to actually sell some books. However from that first day till the end of my contract, I only managed to sell about fifteen sets of the Bible Story.

After selling books for a few weeks, going to the door became rather easy but I was never able to relax as each door had its unknown challenges. I remember the time I knocked on a door, which was already ajar. Suddenly from out of nowhere an incredibly large dog came bounding down the hall and leaped straight at me barking all the time. My heart leaped into my throat and I could feel ripples of fear running up and down my spine. I thought I was a goner. I should have realized that it is a growling dog that bites, not a barking dog.

As I was frozen with fright, he hit me squarely in the chest and just about knocked me down. With my knees trembling and shaking like leaf I slowly walked away figuring if I ran he was sure to eat me on the spot. I didn’t breath easy until I was out of the yard and well beyond the fence, and a long way down the street.

To further add to my plight the sets of books were sold one book at a time on a COD payment plan, which meant that only one or two books were sold out of each set before the contracts were terminated. Money was short because of a strike at the Elk Falls paper mill and the loggers were also out of work because it was one of the driest summers on record and the province had called for a closure of the woods. I was not one however to give up easily so I continued to work till I had completed my time and trusted that I could start college with my limited resources.

I was extremely fortunate, that the contract stated that if I put in a certain minimum number of hours I still would get paid a small scholarship. So in desperation I worked the required number of hours and breathed a sigh of relief when the last hour of the contract was finally reached.