by Misty Simon
Trooping into the bathroom, I took a quick shower and got ready for my day off. I figured I couldn’t avoid hanging out with Phoebe today, for at least a little while, but I made a mental list of things to do before and after the ten or so minutes I would give to her.
I knew that wasn’t very nice, but I had quite a few things going on in my life right now and wasn’t going to worry about it. Out of the shower and doing a quick little bit of makeup, I stared into my own face and wondered what exactly it was that Toby saw there to like. I wasn’t ugly. I knew that, at least. But I wasn’t exactly a stunner, either.
Then again, who could account for male taste? Arrol seemed to have developed a fixation for one of the little dwarves on the Willow movie last night. I myself had a fixation for Val Kilmer, but we wouldn’t go there. Apparently it was okay for him to lust over the little woman with the big breasts and blond braids once I explained to him that it was actually a human masquerading as a dwarf. He was fully convinced she was actually a gnome who’d figured out a way to stay unstoned during the day.
I didn’t spend much time trying to reason that out with him, since my mind had still been whirling with the possibilities he had put out before me. I had never really thought of taking up a whole other genre of art. It was definitely something to think about, though I had no intention of glass blowing or wood carving. No, thank you very much.
I fluffed out my hair a little and figured it was good to go. This hairstyle wasn’t nearly the pain I thought it would be; the care closely resembled my good old polyester hair, but it looked so much better.
Maybe it was the hair that had gotten to Toby. And maybe it didn’t matter, since I still wasn’t sure if I was going to do anything about him. I wasn’t saying that I wouldn’t like to have an itch scratched, but I will direct you back to the place where I didn’t want to screw up the great thing I had going with Toby already, and how I didn’t want to change that with messy boy/girl-type stuff.
I went back out into my room, threw on some clothes, and continued my to-do list. I had to return those library books the woman I no longer was sure had been the librarian had reminded me about. I’d decided to tuck away the rest of my art supplies for now, since I was looking in other directions.
While I was throwing my clothes into the hamper (and trying to figure out how many pairs of underwear I had left, since that determined when I had to do laundry), it occurred to me that I had experienced quite a drop in stress lately. At least from the artistic quarter. Not trying so hard to be the next great Mary Tenley had really been a nice relief.
Part of me still wanted to do something creative, but the other part didn’t feel the intense need to do it right this second. It was nice.
But it wasn’t going to help me get through the many errands I had to do today. I had to run to the bank, deposit my checks from the last few clients I’d seen, run to the grocery store, and pop by the library. Not too much, but it all had to be done.
First things first, though, I had to go out and greet the morning with my house guest. Ugh.
“Hey, Danner.” Phoebe sat at the bar looking over the newspaper.
“What’s happening, Phoebe?” I moved to the refrigerator, even though I knew there was probably nothing in there. But I got a surprise. A very nice surprise, actually.
“Oh, I went shopping this morning and got some essentials. Since you don’t appear to like to cook, I got stuff you can just open and eat. You look like you’ve been starving yourself lately.”
“Really?” I looked down at the way my stomach still bulged a little and my pretty big cleavage and thought she was probably lying. But it was really nice of her to try.
“Really. I think you look great, but you don’t want to lose any more weight, or you could be facing iron deficiency and possibly malnutrition.” She looked back down at the paper.
Apparently her part of the conversation was over. But at least it was the return of the Phoebe I knew and loved. At least some stuff was okay in my world. “Well, thanks for that. I’m not trying to lose any weight, but I do appreciate it.”
“What are you doing today?”
“Trip to the library.”
“Sounds boring.”
“It probably will be.” And thank God she didn’t want to go with me.
“Did you have anything else planned for today?”
Was this conversation stilted only to me? “Not really.”
“Okay, well, I will be in and out today, but I’m going to your mom’s again tonight, so I won’t be here for dinner.” She folded the paper down. “In fact, I may not be here tonight at all. It was really hard to sleep last night with your TV on until all hours.” She moved the paper over to me. “You may not want to tramp around all day without some protection, though. It looks like there’s some nasty shit going around.”
I saw the headline, and it nearly stopped my heart. LOCAL LAWYER SEEN DOING MACARENA IN THE STREETS. And this guy was eighty-two if he was a day. How many more people was this troll guy going to impersonate? And how much trouble was this going to cause if I didn’t get rid of him? Jeez, that could have been me—or a likely replica of me—out there doing the macarena. Shudder.
“Stay safe, Danner. It could be contagious,” Phoebe said, rising from her chair and walking toward her bedroom. “I would hate to find you trying to do the Running Man down Main Street.”
“Thanks, you, too.”
****
I kept an eye out for crazies on my way to the bank. The teller, Beatrice, was not green at all and tried for the millionth time to set me up with her son, who drove a Ford Tempo with a skull for the gear shifter. I wasn’t sure that he had any kind of real job, but I did know he still lived with Beatrice, and that crossed him off my list permanently.
So bank down and library and grocery store to go. I’d do the library first, since I wanted to get some ice cream and I didn’t want it to melt before I got home.
Heaven only knew how long I was going to be at the library. I wanted to look up some myths and legends along with seeing whether I could get the deed information for the house I lived in now. It occurred to me that I might be able to find the man who’d originally owned Arrol through those documents and maybe start making headway on who had owned him since. It wasn’t as if the man would be alive now. That would make him well over a hundred and some years old. I had heard of male longevity but that was taking things too far.
I made my way into our huge library at the end of Walnut Street and inhaled the scent of books. There is just something totally soothing about being surrounded by so many millions of pages, in their cool bindings, all lined up on the shelves in their precise rows. I think it was the logic lover in me that appreciated the uniformity, while the artsy part of me loved the dreaming available at the tips of my fingers.
I wandered along the wood shelves and tiled floors, running a loving hand over the spines. The library was set up like a star. Five arms speared out from the middle, where a huge circular desk served as the nerve center of the place. I walked to the desk a little fearful of what I would find there. What if the troll thing was still in the librarian’s body? Sure, I’d seen him since the freaky meeting in the mall bathroom hallway. And yes, he’d been someone different at the time. But I was still fearful. Sue me.
“Hi, Mrs. Hoolihan,” I said as I stepped carefully to the counter and rested a hand on the cool wood. “How are you today?”
If she was green tinged at all, and I mean at all, even if it was just leftover nausea from a lunch gone wrong, I was so out of there. I’d just leave the books I was returning in the big box outside. I still had two full days until the troll showed up expecting the book, and I did not want to have any encounters with him between now and then.
Thankfully, when she lifted her head, her eyes were a normal brown and her face was only covered in foundation. Not a smidgen of green anywhere. Phew!
“I brought my books back, ma’am,” I said, smiling at her.
“
You’re always so good at that, Danner. I never have to chase you down or slap you with a fine.” She smiled back, then moved my books across the counter to her and her computer.
Beaming with pride, I puffed my chest up. First right thing I’d done in days. Yay, me! Then I got down to business. I wasn’t here just to gloat on saving a little money not paying library fines for overdue books. I had a purpose.
I cleared my throat so she’d look up at me from the computer. Normally, I just went on my merry way directly to the art section, but today I needed something different. “Can you tell me where I would find books on folklore?”
She looked at me over her half glasses. “Folklore? That’s unusual for you. I don’t think you’ve asked me for anything fanciful like that since you were thirteen.” She spun in her chair to go to another computer and punched a couple of buttons. “What kind of folklore are you looking for?”
Dare I say it? “I’m looking for some information on, um, gnomes.”
“Do you mean dwarves?”
I bit back a snicker. Wouldn’t Arrol just loathe that? “No, I’m sure I’m looking for gnomes. Oh, and where would I find paperwork for some of the old houses around here?” Might as well throw that one in.
“Some kind of project?” she asked as she came around the counter. She so rarely came around the counter, I’d forgotten she had legs.
“Yeah, you could say that.” I followed along behind her like a good little Danner.
We took a couple of different aisles and ended up at the back of one of the star arms where I hadn’t been for years. A lot of the books here were leather-bound, and I almost wondered if the book the troll had been looking for was here. Larry had said it was hidden behind something. Maybe I’d just take a little perusal here and see if any books were shelved wrong.
“These are the gnomes here,” Mrs. Hoolihan said as she swept her arm along a wide shelf.
The books varied in height and width. There were so many of them, I was afraid I’d never get through them in time to get back to the house before dusk.
“If you are only looking for serious lore, though, you’ll want to stick with this section here. All the others are more fairytales than anything else.”
This section was certainly a lot smaller. Something in the way she referred to the others being fairytales struck me as odd, but I was soon too engrossed in pulling books down to pay attention.
I hunted around for a little bit to see if I could find a hidden book. No such luck, though out of the corner of my eye I could swear I saw the lady from the thrift store hiding around the corner while I sat at my long table with about ten books spread out around me. But when I looked in that direction, no one was there. It was curiously quiet in my little corner, actually.
But they had everything here. From a book detailing habits and mannerisms to one about clothing fashions and living quarters. I had a blast discovering what Arrol should be like versus what a mess he really was. And if he thought he was getting a fairy when he could only be truly happy and complete with another little gnome, he had another think coming.
I had some serious ammunition now.
I also took a book on nasty trolls and their complete vileness. That one I’d wait to read with Arrol, since I had no way of knowing what was true and what was make-believe.
And then it was back to the reference desk.
“Did you find everything you needed, dear?”
“Absolutely, thanks for the direction there. I still want to look up background on some of the houses in the neighborhood, but I have a few books I want to take home with me. Is that going to be all right?” Dang, I hadn’t even checked to make sure they weren’t reference books and therefore wouldn’t be allowed out of the library.
“Oh, yes. You can take whatever you want home. They’re not considered definitive, nonfiction works by the library.”
And again there was that unspoken something. But she was walking away from me to another part of the library. I had to practically run to catch up.
“Are you ready for the full moon in two days?” she asked.
I’d just caught up with her and was trying hard not to wheeze too much. “Ah, no.” Suck, blow. “I didn’t realize it was so close.”
“Well, that’s a shame, dear. You used to follow the trends of the moon like it was some kind of religious thing. I remember when your mom bought you a chart that told you what phase the moon was in at any given time of the month. She said you never star-gazed because you were too busy looking at the Man up there.”
Huh. I didn’t remember that. Interesting tidbit for me to ponder later, much later, after I got the information I was here for. But it wouldn’t hurt to poke a little further. “I used to follow the moon?” Perhaps I could start again to get that snippet of my teenage years back.
“Oh, yes. You would come in all the time to tell me what phase it was in and whether or not to go out looking for fairies.” She chuckled but in a warm way that didn’t feel mocking at all.
“I used to look for fairies?” I vaguely remembered some chart with stickers from the Five-and-Dime that was across the gravel field from my childhood home.
“It was wonderful. I had never had the pleasure of a child with so much imagination before.”
We turned a corner, and I took the second to steady myself. “Well, thank you for that.”
“It was always my pleasure.” She looked over her shoulder back at me and winked. “By the way, from what I remember, the full moon was always good for finding all kinds of otherworld things.”
Or for them to find me, since that was when the troll would be coming to look for me. I suppressed a full-body shudder.
“So which parts of town are you interested in?” She’d stopped in front of another set of shelves. Most of the books here were paperbacks.
“Mainly around my house.”
“Any particular reason?”
I fell back on the excuse I’d come up with just for this question. “Toby is restoring the house as much as he can and wanted me to see if there was a way to find out what was in vogue when the house was built.”
“Interesting. Well, I can only recommend these two books.” She handed me a huge hardback tome and another that was nothing more than a thin paperback.
“Huh. Any way to maybe find out who lived in the house directly after it was built?” She gave me a slightly odd look, and I instantly regretted asking too much, too soon. Crap.
“I suppose I could show you how to use the microfiche to look over newspapers from that time period.”
I looked at my watch and realized I was running out of time. I still had to go to the grocery store and make it back to my house before Phoebe left. I really did feel like I should spend a little more time with her. She was being subjected to my mom far more than I felt was healthy. “I’m going to have to pass this time, but I will definitely come back another day to do the fishing thing. Thanks, Mrs. Hoolihan.”
I watched as she walked away, to make sure she made it back to the reference desk before I dived into these books. It was a relatively short and ultimately fruitless search. Much of the information here had to do with the Civil War and how our town was one of the ones ravaged. Being so close to Gettysburg, I guess I shouldn’t have been shocked, but I wanted something more from here. It occurred to me that what I really needed was to find the deeds. Where would I even start looking for something like that? Sigh. Research had never been my strong suit. I had a feeling that might be a liability right about now.
****
I am happy to report that the trip to the grocery store was normal. I found all the things I needed in record time and was greeted warmly by the non-green-tinged cashier. Thank goodness.
I checked out with a minimum of fuss and got back into the car to tool on back home. I glanced at my watch again. I was making some really good time. I actually had time to stop off at that thrift store again before I needed to get home.
The same metal-mouth girl was hanging
out at the cash register when I walked in the door. She put her hands on the counter like we were about to do battle.
Since I had already won the War of the Larry, I was not intimidated at all. I flipped her a wave (no, not the one-finger variety) and went in search of books. Maybe they’d have something more than what I’d found at the library.
I wandered back over to the corner where I’d found Larry and fingered some of the jelly bracelets. But then I remembered the ’80s version of me, with her jelly-laden arms, and knew that wasn’t quite a look I ever wanted to see again.
Onward.
I made it back to the books without incident and started looking around.
“Can I help you with something?”
I whipped around, and there stood the owner of the store. She had big silver earrings on today, with fairies sitting on the downward curve. I flashed back to when I thought I’d seen her in the library.
“I’m looking for some books.” Dumb. I was standing in the book section. Of course I was looking for books.
“Anything in particular?”
I wanted to ask her if she’d been in the library earlier today, but maybe that was none of my business. And maybe she hadn’t seen me. “Maybe some folklore? Fairies, trolls, gnomes?”
A spark caught in her eyes but was extinguished before I could be certain. “We have a fairly extensive collection here. How are you enjoying the ball you bought a few days ago?”
“Just fine.” I gulped. I wasn’t going to tell her what all had happened. I didn’t want her to start calling the men in white coats.
I followed her to a back corner (why did these things always seem to be in the back corner?) and was awed by the many books on black shelves. “Wow.”
“Yes, I have always had an interest in these things and pick up books whenever I find them. Are you looking for any particular book?” She ran her fingers over the spines in the same way I had at the library.
“Actually this is all very new to me.” Which was a partial truth if I’d ever told one. “I’m just trying to immerse myself in what’s out there, to get a better hold on things.” Nicely vague.