The Stacks

Chapter 4: Connection

Song: "Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg

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I was a bit startled on Monday morning when I reached the third floor and there he was, in his usual place; startled not by his presence, but by the fact that his hair was brushed and pulled back into a neat ponytail, the stubble was gone from his face, and it appeared that he had at least changed into clean clothes. He wore some wrinkled khakis that looked too big on him, a faded gray t-shirt, and the same worn out shoes. Maybe I could offer to buy him a new pair since what he was currently wearing hardly qualified as footwear. He was wearing the same green overcoat. I wondered if he had also taken a shower, but I wasn't going to go sniffing his armpits to find out. 

I walked over more confidently than I had in the past three weeks. "Good morning," I spoke. "I almost didn't recognize you." He looked up at me and, without seeing a smile on his face, I wondered if I had offended him somehow. "Your hair," I explained. "I like it pulled back like that. It looks good." That was all he needed to give me a rather remarkable smile in return, after which he turned back to his book.

"Do you mind if I ask what you're studying?" I ventured. 

He seemed to freeze, although he hadn't been moving much in the first place. Finally, he looked up and answered, "I'm not really studying anything. Just reading."

"Oh," I said, wishing he would have volunteered more information. "Those books must be really interesting." I did an internal face palm, thinking about how stupid that sounded.

"They are," he nodded and went back to reading while I went back to shelving. As I diligently went about my work, I could feel his eyes on me. I looked up and found him watching me carefully. When he saw that I noticed, he gave me a small grin and went back to reading. As another opportunity presented itself, I studied his face, his profile. He was much more handsome than I had first realized, which made me wonder all the more about his life and what compelled him to hole up here on the third floor day after day, week after week.

Tuesday and Wednesday, I brought him food and attempted to make conversation. He engaged, only enough to answer questions and give me minimal amounts of information. I was disappointed, but it really wasn't my business to know where he was from or what he was doing here every day. He was using the library's services and that's all I needed to know. Period.

I had actually managed to learn that he was originally from England, so I had been right about his accent. He told me that his family had moved to the US when he was still in high school, or secondary school, as he called it. He also said that his accent had been much stronger at first; I wondered how he must have sounded when he first arrived.

Near the end of the day on Wednesday, I received a page from Gabby at the front desk. When I approached, I slowed down a bit, staring in wonder. It was a similar feeling to when you're a kid and you see your teacher outside of school, or when you run into your doctor at the supermarket. I'd never seen him away from his hiding place in the stacks. It just seemed odd for a moment.

"Yes?" I said to Gabby.

She tipped her head towards The Man, saying, "This gentleman here wanted to speak to you. He was just telling me how kind you've been to him, offering to help him. Bringing him breakfast." She subtly raised her eyebrows at me and I knew I was in trouble. But I focused on The Man instead. 

"Hi, can I help you with something?" I asked sweetly. Standing in front of him, I realized how tall he really was. It also seemed that every time I looked at him, he seemed more handsome.

"Nothing at all," he spoke, giving me a tender smile. "You've already done so much. I just wanted to thank you. Sincerely. I appreciate your kindness."