Myne

eleven

Gamble was at his desk. His friends and his mother and his aunt and his cousins, everyone really, said the same thing. He had no business being a librarian. Someone who spent his days, all of his working life, in a library should love books, at least some. They certainly couldn’t be like him, who didn’t like books. He satisfied his love for stories with audio books. At school, he wouldn’t miss a single class. He listened to every word spoken by every teacher. It was easy to remember what he heard. He never forgot anything that was interest in the slightest. Of course, lessons weren’t particularly interesting, especially math which had few stories to tell. Still, listening to the teachers and remembering was so much easier than studying later. That meant he had to be very careful about his health, so he wouldn’t have to be absent from school due to illness.

That was also why he always had earphones in his ears. He began with a portable CD player. Then moved on to MP3 players. And then his phone made it so much easier. It wasn’t songs he listened to. His library was entirely audiobooks.

As he sat behind his desk at Greenfield Town library, he had no book open in front of him. The computer was on. His earphones were connected to the computer. And the audiobook of his favourite author’s newest novel was playing in his ears. Read by his favourite narrator. It was the perfect partnership. It was shaping into the perfect day.

And then, his favourite bookworm interrupted him. Rain was one of those interruptions he actually enjoyed. After all, it was people like them who ensured he had a job. And such a cushy job too.

“Returning the book already?” He asked, looking at the old book in her hand.

“Yes,” she said, placing the book on the desk.

He didn’t notice anything off. Not right away. Not while she was there. He nodded. “Okay,” he said to her. “I’ll key it into the system. Go on then. I’m sure you want another book.”

She nodded. Returned his smile. And left.

He sat looking at her back, until she disappeared behind the books. And then, when he reached for the book, and keyed into the system that it was returned, he frowned. Her smile played in his eyes again. And he saw it now. It wasn’t the same smile. It was the same girl. The same face. The same intent. A nice, kind, quiet girl who was quick to smile. It was the smile itself that was different. Like something was troubling her.

As he kept looking at the book, he saw more. The way she was looking at the book. It wasn’t the same as she usually looked at books. There was none of the fondness. There was a hint of dislike, mixed in with the curiosity. And there was a hint of fear. She wanted the book, and at the same time wanted to be far from it. And she was scared of the book. He couldn’t make sense of it.

He opened the book. Flipped the pages. Saw nothing off. Maybe it’s the story, he thought. Couldn’t think of anything else. He sighed. Put away the book, to the side of the desk, in the basket of returned books. When the basket was sufficiently heavy, or when it was time for lunch, whichever was first, he would returned the books to their places on the shelves. Until then, he went back to his audiobook.

A while later, he was through two chapters, Rain was at the table again. Another book in hand. This was a book he recognised.

“You’re issuing it?” He asked.

“Yes, please,” she answered.

He nodded. Keyed the id, a string of numbers and letters printed on a piece of paper that was glued to the spine of the book, into the computer, and passed the book back to her. “Happy reading,” he wished her. And smiled as she thanked him, and walked away.

After she left, his eyes traveled back to the book sitting alone in the basket. It was the same questions again. What about this book was so scary? What was so special about it that elicited such varied reactions in her? He was curious. And he had never been very comfortable with his curiosity. Especially with the idea of reining it in, ignoring what triggered it. Would be great if someone had the answers for his questions. How great it would be to just sit and listen. Unfortunately, this was one of those times when he had to search and find and read the answers, whatever he could find.

He began with searching the library management system, for the story of the book. The green book was titled Green. It was an anonymous donation, which essentially meant it was left at the library by someone. And was then adopted into the library. Thus, anonymous donation. It predated the library system. And it was one of those accidents, the old records, the page from the old register into which the details of the book were entered was damaged. And among the details lost was the day the book was adopted into the library. And so, the date entered into the system was the pre-defined date the library was opened to the people of the town. There was no way of knowing any more. And in all the years the book was at the library, it had only ever been issued five times. The first four times were before the management system. The fifth time was Rain. Just five times in a lot more than five times as many years. Curious circumstances if there ever were any.

He pulled out the earphones. Pushed his chair closer to the table. Straightened his back. Leaned into a more comfortable position. Licked his lips. And reached for the keyboard. This was getting seriously intriguing. And he most certainly loved a good mystery.