The Beginning to A Wonderful Life

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"Good morning Marie!"

"Good morning Drew," I say as he comes through the front doors of the small library.

Drew is an elderly man whom I consider the only person to come a vicinity of fifty-feet of the building. I have thought Drew as a sort of father figure after two years of living in the small village in Alaska. Well, a year for me to thaw around Drew to trust him a smidge since I saw his face literally every day.

At first it was hard for me to even look at Drew because of his homeless appearance. He has this bushy silver hair he calls a beard and moustache that has grown out to his head but instead of it being bushy it's oily straight and lengthens to his shoulders. And there's that shiny bald spot on the top of his head he covers with his favorite green wool beanie. He wears a thick jacket with a lumberjack shirt everyday and blue jeans he claims he has had since nineteen-eighty-two. He looks like a frail man on the outside but he walks upright when he wants to and doesn't have a problem beating sense into younger men. I have personally seen him do it.

Drew walks his way to my small desk where I keep all the essentials to have an orderly library. I look up from the book I am reading to show a weary glance on my face although Drew knows to keep his distance from me.

"Anyone came in this time today?" he asks me. I sigh as I put my book down to lean on my arm defeated.

"No one. Not even to escape the cold. People don't read books these days anymore Drew. Not even to look up information."

I hear a gruff laugh come from Drew after my complaint. He takes his jacket off and slings it on an adjacent bookshelf.

"You better watch yourself, Marie. You're starting to sound like this old geezer. Sooner or later you'll have a lifestyle of one. Eating tapioca. Playing bingo, yelling at kids who come anywhere close to your yard," he tells me then laughs at the stereotype of himself.

I move from behind my desk as a sign of my indifference to his horrible joke. Every day he has to come in and crack a quick one on me for no reason and almost every day I laugh at his tasteless jokes.

I walk to a bookshelf some footsteps from my desk and grab a jumble of books that need to be reorganized.

"This is very important though Drew. For years this town has had this quaint library and now it is in danger of being closed down. People are too busy with their jobs in this small place."

"Well, what do you suspect, "he says with a smack of his mouth," with a village of almost four hundred people it is hard to get a certain amount's attention every day."

I drop the books down with another exasperated sigh.

"But if I lose my job where will I find work? I can't do any of the regular jobs that are out there and if I can't find any then I will lose my trailer!" I say waving my hands in the air.

I put my face in my hands and rub my temples. If there is not a job for me then I may have to either live on the streets of the village or call my adoptive family for help. I have nothing against the Telsas but they are more prone on living a life either through me or without me.

"I can help you in this situation."

As I heard these words I let out a groan. Drew works as a mechanic and has had no need in busying himself with jobs out of his range so by no chance does he insinuates any other job offer but mechanics. Me, machines-not work well. All those parts and grease, oil. Drew looks at my sour expression forming on my face and makes a u-turn.

"No, no! Not cars. Yesterday as I was looking through the paper, I mistakenly read an ad looking for assistance in a home. The pay is really generous. Quads of what you'd make in a year. I have it in my truck right now if you want it," Drew finishes.

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