Part II: The Shoes That Were Destined To Fit

The spiraling staircase could have been likened to the soul-wrenching path down to the mines of Moria. With each new step all thoughts of the world above (and with that, happiness) faded, and the stale, dank air of the deep enveloped us. Without the flame to provide warmth and a semblance of bearing, we would surely have gone insane.

"We have arrived" uttered Havey.
"How can you tell? I can't see anything" I asked. He must have made the trip so many times, his feet knew the way.
"Oh right," The shoe-shaman said, "Here we go." He switched on the lights to his left, and the great cavern lit up with an fluorescent buzz. "Sorry, the lights are out in the stairwell."

He led me in silence through the rows of footwear that seemed to stretch for miles into the vanishing point. We walked by marvels of technology and science that boggled my mind. There was some sort of dry-ice fog coming out of the walls in all directions.

"What about this one?" I asked, as we passed a particularly comfortable looking shoe. As I was about to touch it, the shoe, as if magnetically charged, skidded away from my hand. I again tried to grasp it, only to see it skid off the counter onto the floor. The oracle threw his cloak over the shoe quickly and wrestled it back onto the shelf.

"Do NOT... touch anything" he said, as the skidding sneaker finally seemed to stay in one spot. "Those shoes will bring you nothing but trouble. Only one man has run in those."
"Who?" I asked, "Was it Steve Prefontaine?"
"Huh? No. He used Nikes." the oracle said. "This guy Bob Turner, lives in Maple Grove. Ah, here we are!"

We stopped our trek in front of some non-descript boxes. He paused in deep thought. "What are you, like an eleven, eleven and a half?"
"Yeah."
"Ok," he said, grabbing a box from the bottom."We are done here."
"Should I at least try them on?" To that comment, I received a look that still haunts my dreams. A look that told me nobody questions the oracle.... right or wrong... he is always right.

We took the elevator back upstairs, because the torch ran out, and he was pretty sure the door locked behind us. "Plus" he said, "the eye-patch really messes with my depth perception".

As I paid for the new shoes with my debit card upstairs I couldn't help but feel in safe hands knowing that my shoes, no matter what size they ended up being, would be the best pair of shoes I have ever run in. Because whether the oracle is right or wrong... he is always right.