Venus [BARRETT]

SIX

THE KNOWN AND UNKNOWN

☼

As Ben put it so eloquently: "God, it's only been two weeks."

And yes, he was right — but although it had only been two weeks, those two weeks were enough to engulf me with uneasiness. I was completely outside of my head and no longer lived within my own sanity.

Every time someone walked through the library door, my eyes skittered to them, anticipating a glimpse of colourful clothing and Syd's bouncy way of walking.

But it never was, and it hadn't been, for fourteen and a half days.

"Those are upside down," Ben said, referring to the labels I was sticking onto the library's new books.

"Oh fuck," I muttered. "Whoops."

Using my fingernails, I tried to peel the most recent label off while Ben stared, crossing his arms. He scrutinised me with his hazel eyes before coming around desk and leaning on his elbows, his face close to mine.

"Look at you — you're so distracted. You miss him, don't you."

I tried to remain complacent and not give away how jolted I felt at those words. I wanted my face to be a still, clear pond, and Syd a pebble that couldn't break the glass-like perfection "Who?"

Ben laughed, maybe a bit too loud for the library, and quickly covered his mouth. "You're not kidding anyone. You miss that. . . quirky dude."

"Oh, Syd?" Now I looked up, raising my eyebrows. "I have a boyfriend, thank you."

In my peripheral I saw Peggy approach. She was pushing the old and clunky book trolley towards us; the perfect interruption from Ben's interrogation.

"Myra, can you go get the books from the return chute, please," she asked, stopping momentarily by the table.

Normally I'd try and weasel my way out of doing the most boring job of all, but this time I pushed back in my seat and nodded, glad. "Yeah, no worries."

Placing my hands on the cold trolley as Peggy hobbled off, I asked Ben if he could finish what I'd started with the labels.

"No," he replied, but immediately picked up where I left off. "And also, yes — I did forget you had a boyfriend."

I sarcastically rolled my eyes, turned the trolley around, and pushed it to the lobby where I took the elevator down. The library consisted of two levels, with the first level being nothing but an entrance from either the parking lot or the stairs. It wasn't a flash building, and the elevator took its time opening and closing its doors. So much so, it played with my head; I'd be constantly on my guard, just in case he was standing there waiting for me.

This time, I can assure he wasn't.

The return book-chute is something I was pretty sure all libraries had. It's built like a mailbox, in which people could open the lid and slide their books inside rather than coming up to the second floor to return them. All we had to do was unlock and empty it — not a big deal.

Today, as I slid the key into the lock and involuntarily thought about the colour of oceans, I only heard what sounded like a single extremely thick book thud against the chute as I opened it. Not impressed that I pushed the whole trolley downstairs for a single book, I threw it on to the top of the trolley and waited a few seconds, my hands on my hips.