Page 65 of Dark Verse

It’s a wonderful cycle that allows all Denver residents to enjoy the city in the evening.

Tonight is another night off for the Nightshades, their only one this week, so Knox and I decide to explore downtown together. We take his bike down to the heart of Denver and park in one of the many garages. As we step outside onto the busy sidewalk, my attention keeps getting pulled in different directions.

“Oh wow,” Knox says, his pace slowing.

I match him, and together we stop in front of a building surrounded by scaffolding and thick plastic sheets in some places.

“What is it?” I ask, looking for a sign but finding none.

“It’s the old Soiree Theater. We played here years ago, when we were on our very first tour. The one that was canceled.”

“Oh,” I say, looking upward towards the roof of the building. “That’s pretty cool.”

Spotting an informational board, I pull Knox towards it and begin to read.

“It would be awesome to play here again,” he says, his gaze skyward.

“Looks like it might be a while,” I say, now reading the poster aloud.

“The city of Denver, in partnership with Jefferson County, Adams County and private donors, began the intense process of updating this historic venue in March of this year. This building is currently undergoing extensive renovations to improve safety, functionality, and overall appearance. Work includes structural upgrades, asbestos mitigation, facility modernization, exterior restoration, and enhanced accessibility features. Construction activity may result in noise pollution and temporarily restricted access to nearby parking lots, side streets, and walking pathways. Blah, blah blah…we appreciate your patience as we transform this space into a safer, more efficient, and welcoming environment for all visitors.”

“Bummer,” Knox says.

“But maybe next year…” I say, reading further. “Looks like they want to try to reopen it for its 125th anniversary.”

“It’s really beautiful inside,” Knox says, taking my hand once more as we begin to head down the street again. “There are all these stone archways and craftsman details in the decor. They had old, preserved movie posters from when it was still a movie theater. The sound moves beautifully in there. As large as it is, you don’t even really need amplification. It’s so well designed.”

He continues to tell me more about Soiree Theater as we pass the various attractions along the 16th Street Mall. Children run and scream in joy around us as the water garden shoots them in rhythmic bursts. Parents sit back under the large umbrellas and tree cover, sipping spiked lemonades. Men and women pass by, heavily laden with shopping bags and large smiles.

Knox stops walking again, looking up at the name of a business, and I follow his gaze.

“Comics and Columbines?” He reads the sign aloud with curiosity. “Okay, I have to see what this is.”

I nod, following him inside. We both stand in the doorway, taking in the display before us.

“Okay, this shouldn’t work, but it does,” I say after a solid twenty seconds of staring.

“Right?” Knox agrees, taking several more steps into the business.

The store is divided perfectly in half, with the left side laid out to be a comic book fan’s wet dream. Colorful numbered issues are on display, the racks stretching from floor to ceiling. The display lights are angled perfectly to capture the most intriguing covers. Towards the center of the comic book side, the action figures are on display, the plastic heroes captured at various stages of battle and pose. I even see a bookshelf for graphic novels towards the back.

The other half of the store is a flower shop, overflowing with color and fragrance. Every corner of the right-hand side of the store is filled with fresh columbines, sunflowers, calla lilies, roses, peonies and eucalyptus clustered in glass jars. The wooden counter is scattered with ribbon, twine, and blank tags. Hanging plants sway gently near the windows, creating dappled light on the carpet.

There are only two other customers in here: a man busy picking out flowers and a boy in the action figure section, with an employee standing with him, speaking to him animatedly.

“Hello, welcome,” a woman says as she enters the space. She slips behind the comic book side counter. “Can I help you find anything?”

“We just stepped in to see what a comic book store in a flower shop looks like.” Knox smiles.

“Or is it a flower shop in a comic book store?” I ask.

The woman smiles good-naturedly, obviously familiar with this kind of comment.

“It’s what you get when a happy couple want to start a business together but cannot agree on what they should sell and can only afford one storefront at downtown prices.”

That is both the simplest and most logical reason for the exquisite madness in front of us. On the surface, it seems like comic books and flowers have very little in common, but the explosion of vibrant colors from both sides tricks my eyes enough to start seeing the similarities between them.

“A perfectly reasonable answer,” Knox says.