b a b y s i t t i n g t h e p r e s i d e n t 's d a u g h t e r

Chapter 5: A Chance Encounter

"Everybody dies, Mary, it's because we're old," Said her female companion, "But this...this is just a piece of art."

"Absolutely not. This is a magic book. It is the reason for the unexplained deaths around here." Her eyes grew crazy; I am not lying, they really went crazy.

"Erm," I meekly interrupted, "Can I help you guys? Would you like to borrow a book?"

"Of course I would like to borrow a book. Why would I come into a library for?" The one with the crazy eyes snapped at me.

"Oh my dear, I'm so sorry, forgive my sister, she didn't mean it," the other woman said, who then led her companion away into the aisles, "Mary, you are so rude!"

As Mary was left in the aisle, her sister returned to apologize and explain herself. She told of how Mary used to be a the most spectacular storyteller in those days; becoming a teacher and eventually teaching kids for nearly 50 plus years until the modern age came to rid the world and its schools of its traditional methods.

"You are becoming too outdated for this generation." They had told her.

Mary came out of the aisles as she heard her sister talking. I could feel the pain in her voice as she remarked softly, "Times are moving so fast."

By the end of the day, they returned home empty handed but with such sad looks in their eyes that I sincerely hoped were not because of me.

"I see you've met Mary and Ethel." Marc walked into the shop in a matter of minutes; looking at the two ladies as they walked out into the street.

I nodded, "Interesting."

He laughed as he hung around the door; he said he had to go soon but thought he could stop by for a while.

"Are they always sad though?" I ventured to ask, the recurring theme of sad residents beginning to grow on me.

"Some can be jovial, like Mr. Henderson. Some, probably not," Marc smiled apologetically, "It's a matter of who you meet really."

"No, I mean, the stories. Are they always sad?"

Marc looked down at his feet and scratched his head, as if it was difficult to answer my simple question. Soon, he admitted, "Yes."

Life at my uncle's little reading cove could sometimes be a bore, but nothing could prepare me for all the other types of people I was soon to meet. One such day saw me trying to deal with another old man deciding on what books he should read. Now I knew how people who worked in retail, feel whenever customers come in from all walks of life.

"I'm sorry but you can't have more than 2 books at a time." I exasperatedly tried to explain to an old customer that day. He just could not make up his mind, making things worse for me.

"Well, maybe if I took this book then." He took one book out of his pile.

Finally, the old man made a choice. I was about to record it all down into the logbook when he was again replacing each of his choice with another. Questions like "Is this any good?", "What's this story like?", and "What's good for a lazy afternoon?" rang throughout like a never-ending series. Normally, people came in and knew exactly what they wanted. But he didn't.

It wasn't that someone who couldn't make up his mind easily annoyed me, I was more irritated by the fact that he simply took down books from the shelves and laid them all on the table without even knowing what book he took. And I just knew when he was gone; it was my job to put them all back again.

"Which would you recommend?" I heard someone laugh in the library as he asked.

I looked around to see who had laughed but he was well hidden behind the shelves. When I did not reply he asked again, laying before me even more choices. By now, the table was covered with books he had chosen and he still could not make up his mind. I wanted to shove one down his throat.