Spellbound

01

"Mom, I'll be fine. I'm taking the coach bus home tonight. No chance in hell I'll be playing out in the street with this weather." College sophomore Tracy Hoffman was on the phone outside a small town diner, headed back to her hotel room. Her mother had insisted on staying with her for the holidays, but she knew better. The house itself is already crowded, what with the holidays bringing her extended family together for one big hoorah. Not that she didn't like her family, no, far from it. Tracy just preferred the privacy of a room she alone had the key to. Something of a haven from all the peppermint and eggnog that was served to no end. Her mother, stubborn but understanding, just wanted to make sure Tracy knew that there was plenty of space at the house for her (and anyone she chose to bring with her.)

"I just want to know you're safe, that's all, honey," her mom said. "The holidays are a crazy time of year, you know!" Tracy let out a quick sigh. Of course she knew that. It wasn't the first time she's been away for the holidays. "I believe you, mom. Plenty of wackos out here tonight," she agreed. "But I'll be alright at the hotel. I'll give you a call in the morning and we'll go from there, alright?" Her mother gave in, and told her to call bright and early so they have enough time to deck the halls. Tracy hung up and put the phone back into her purse.

She sat down at the bench just down the road, waiting for the bus. Glancing up and down the street, she felt herself begin to smile. The mood of small towns felt so warm around the holidays. Every window had some form lights in it; soft white stars at the boutique, red and blue around the barber shop's display, and the warm orange glow coming from the diner she was just at. Without her noticing, a soft flurry had begun to fall around Tracy. It was something out of a holiday movie. Any minute now, some cute guy would walk up from behind her and attempt to sweep her off her feet with a cheesy Christmas pun...

Alas, before any of this fantasy could realize, headlights had begun to pull up to the stop. Her bus had arrived. Tracy shook her head and laughed at herself. Holidays or no, the odds of something like that happening were probably higher that this bus taking her back to her place in New York tonight. Still, wishful thinking just comes with the atmosphere. As she gave up her bus fare, she found a seat near the back to relax at. She put her feet up on the bench seat and pulled out her kindle to get a bit of reading done before the end of the night. Nothing special like that was going to happen to me tonight, she thought. Not now, probably not ever. Before delving deep into the world of ebooks, she gave one last glance out of her window.

Perhaps if she was able to see the man with piercing red eyes, humming and licking his lips staring right back at her from the alley behind the bench she was just at, her reaction wouldn't have been so melancholy.

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Sitting in the downtown library of Burlington, Vermont, you'd have no idea there was a blistering cold storm whipping its way through the streets. The hum of the old fluorescent light panels in the ceiling and the whir of the tin fan on the front desk made a pleasant white noise for any of the readers in the building.

However, tonight the shelves were accompanied by only one literary enthusiast, a high school freshman named Drake Ashmore. If it weren't for his habit of pacing as he read, you wouldn't have believed the place to be occupied. The head librarian sat at her desk, assigning new books their code for check out. Every now and then she'd rest her eyes from the monitor on her desk to glimpse out to check if Drake was still there. Sure enough, she was able to pick out the strands of black hair that poked out of a cowlick that was constantly on the back of his head. In his paces, she'd watch his green eyes pour over whatever it was he was reading this time. The librarian smiled, happy knowing that at least somebody out there was enjoying literature at this time of the day.

At 6 o'clock in the evening, the librarian stood up from her chair and shut off the computer. She glanced over at the tables in the middle of the room and saw Drake doing essentially the same; he put his notebooks away and slung his black fleece jacket on over his slender body. For his size and age, Drake was still a pretty small guy. Coming in around five-nine, he was not all bone, but not exactly toned, either. He approached the desk, setting a few books down next to the librarian's computer. She picked up a few of them and opened them at the back. "These ones are no good either?" she asked him. Drake shook his head slowly. The librarian sighed and set them down. She was going through her inventory, logging information she never knew existed thanks to some new computer program dedicated to organizing and maintaining library records. If it wasn't for Drake, she probably wouldn't be even a quarter done her stock.
As she put them onto an increasingly large stack behind her, she attempted conversation to break the awkward silence. "So, you're in high school now?" Drake let out a quick sigh in return. The librarian knew he didn't really care for small talk, but they still tried now and again to see if anything had changed. "Yeah, I'm a uh... I'm a freshman now," he answered unenthusiastically. "Having a wonderful time." The librarian grinned. She knew the kind of school he went to, and was all too familiar with the people that both learned and worked there. "That sounds awfully sarcastic, Mr. Ashmore," she poked. Drake let out another grunt.

This carried on for a few minutes while the librarian got together her own belongings. A thick pink coat with a fuzzy collar, a briefcase and a purse all hung from her hunched shoulders. As they approached the front door, she pulled out her key ring. Drake noted that there were quite a few keys on it, with different etchings and handles on each of them. Curious, he thought, that a librarian needed access to so many different locks. They stood outside the door to the library for a few minutes, taking time to assess the weather and what loomed over the rooftops of the town. Drake looked out over the highway, which rose over the horizon a lot farther than he'd previously thought. He scoffed to himself. "So small," he muttered. The librarian chuckled and looked to him. Yeah, it's small. But there's nothing like it around, no sir," she gestured toward the city center, where the buildings along Church Street and the university campus peaked. "You're still pretty young, you know. Get out there, and I'm sure you'll find something aside from books that'll grab your attention." Again, Drake grunted under his breath. It wasn't like him to be the social type. He had his own little net of friends and acquaintances, each at a respectable distance from his life. He never really had a reason to be the center of attention, either. To Drake, he was just an average guy, with average hobbies, living in an average town. The only time he found interest was in books at the local library and in his home. He felt that at least in literature, the books told him what was going to happen next. That the heroes and the villains were depicted for him, and each story had an ending that fit the journey. If he wanted any sort of adventure, Drake looked behind the cover of a book.
"Not that I don't appreciate your help!" the librarian quickly added. "Never really thought about how many of those blasted things I actually kept in there..." They walked together until they reached a small, beat-up wooden house. Sky blue paint chipped away at some points, each a mark from the test of time. Red and white lights shone through the front windows, with a decorative wreath hung from the front door. The librarian thanked Drake again for his help and the walk home and proceeded up the front steps, the jingling of keys ringing out as she approached yet another lock. Drake waved as he turned the corner, walking on to his own borough. He thought it lucky he lived so close to the library. He never minded the cold of the winter, but everyone had their limits in ten-degree weather.

Drake turned the last corner before his street and peered up into the sky. This close to the city, you often can't see many stars. He frowned when he figured out tonight was one of those nights. The orange hue of the city lights mashed together with the gray from the clouds emptying snow upon the town. The only downside, he found, to walking home in the evening was not seeing the stars all the time. Drake found a peaceful solace in stargazing. Most of his critical thinking, and indeed some soul searching, came to him when he was on the walk home from a good afternoon at the library. It secretly gave him a trickle of hope that somehow, someway, his life would pick up. That perhaps he wouldn't only look forward to the end of the day to trap himself in the fantasy of literature. That maybe, just maybe, he would wake up one day and find himself in something completely new. Something he had never experienced before.

As Drake reached for the front door of his house on South Spruce Street, he took one last quick glimpse into the sky. His eyes widened a bit when he caught himself staring at a lone, blue star fade behind a husk of black clouds.