Click. Click. Click. The metal file dividers tapped against one another one by one as the woman knelt to flick through the rack. After locating it, she left the storage vault and returned to her office to send off the files to the intended recipients who’d requested them. That was the main constituent of her job: 1. Remember where things go. 2. Find things people ask for. 3. Know how to operate the machines that package, sort, identify, mark, and send documents off. 4. Keep notes and records so files don’t get lost in the system.
Click. Click. Click, went the files again as Evangeline sorted through the day’s documents, all lined up in slim manilla envelopes.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
“End of shift number two,” A softly feminine voice announced from unseen speakers. It wasn’t loud enough to alarm or disturb those at work- especially ones who had a sense of the time and knew it was coming- but it served its purpose to be heard.
Evangeline rubbed at her eyes. She checked that her hair was still neatly pinned back all business-like as it was that morning when she’d left home.
“Ms. Rosso,” a vaguely nervous looking young woman trilled from the doorway, “the shift is, ah, over already.” It must be a new assistant. The young ones always get lost in places like this with the endless halls and the less than social staff. It was, after all, only a small staff consisting of rarely replaced employees that were, it seems, all the more rapidly aging these days.
“So I’ve heard,” Evangeline muttered dryly without turning. She was no exception to the antisocial mass majority here. In fact, she rather prided herself on being more antisocial than the others. Although admittedly, having an assistant who did her job willingly and nicely (and kept enthusiasm independent of those two factors) would be a beneficial outcome from treating them better. Ah, well, sacrifices. As long as they actually did their jobs, she was content.
The girl only smiled brightly in return. Looks like she has a fully charged enthusiasm store, pity. “Oh, oh yes, of course you did,” she seemed to be encouraged by Evangeline’s response, most probably because it seemed like a sarcastic joke to her, “Do you need anything for your next shift? A lunch break, maybe?”
Do I really look like someone who makes sarcastic jokes? “No, thank you,” Evangeline dismissed her with a wave of the hand, “Why don’t you go see if Sullivan wants some tea? Oh, and he always could do with a few muffins.”
Sullivan hates tea.
Let’s see… It’s a Tuesday, shift two would be at the… Literary Branch.
Beep. Beeep. Beep. The elevator door closed. At the press of a button, the sleek chrome box shot into motion and stopped moments later at the second level of the tower. The Literary Branch: in essence, a reformatted library from what public services used to offer. With the governmental and economical changes, literary material went under the jurisdiction of the educational departments, then switched back under the government’s reference and information systems.
The branch is located right above the lobby so that security can easily limit public access. Restricted sections are located on higher floors so that identification is required for access.
Let’s set aside the little informational break right there.
Evangeline moved to the reception desks, when a few other reference staff sat behind monitors and tapped away at reports for new material and old material and reservations and requests. She took her own place among them and logged into the interface.
There was a student group scheduled to visit in several minutes, the panel informed her. Fantastic! If she covered this group, she could probably kick back and relax the rest of the time.
Speak of the devil… there they are. Evangeline rose to prepare to greet the visitors. It was a medium sized group, full of goggle-eyed young children and a few chaperones. An expression of distaste appeared for a moment on Evangeline’s face. She disliked children in general, and she definitely did not trust them around books (or anything else, for that matter) in a sanitary, educational environment like the Literary Branch. The little hands and mouths (maybe that’s going too far) get all over everything.
Despite all that, though, a job is a job to the last, and her duty- for now- was to assist the visitor’s group. With a polite smile positioned on her face, Evangeline approached the waiting party with several other staff members and proceeded to check IDs, then to accompany them to wherever they wished to go.
After almost half an hour had passed of giving recommendations and locating material, Evangeline began to relax. It was never so bad as long as she eventually let go of her ridiculous neuroses and take the edge off her nerves. The rest of the touring gradually seemed to sped up and was over soon. The group of children ended their time checking out a few books. They were, of course, little pictures books, with colorful pages and fanciful stories.
Evangeline was easing back into her chair as the last of the children left, when one more child approached the counter and stood on tiptoes, “Excuse me.”
The woman sat back up and wordlessly took the book, along with a card, from the girl’s outstretched hands. It was another picture book, of course, although this one lacked a cover. Scanning both items into the system, Evangeline's eyes caught on the title, Caged Bird. Interesting reading material for a little girl. She cast an almost approving expression down at the little girl through her glasses when she handed back the book and the card.
“Thank you,” murmured the doll-like little creature as she took both and slipped them under one arm. Before she turned away, she blinked up at Evangeline and said solemnly, “You have pretty eyes. Like open sky.”
Faintly perplexed, Evangeline looked after the girl, who had walked off towards the door, “Thank you?”
She wasn’t part of that school group, was she? They were long gone. So, who was she?
