FOREVER?

|Chapter Three|

Harry Potter series on the third row, from the left to right, and the Lord of the rings series on the fifth row, I placed the books according to their respected continual number. I brushed the dust off the classic novels, with a wide grin on my face. Even the sight of them made me as happy as a kid in a candy store, when I should be hurting from last night's events. But the two people probably didn't think twice before doing me wrong, then why on earth should I sulk over them? That was the mantra I repeated since morning. But did it hurt any less? No.

With much tried enthusiasm, I continued to do my work. This is the favourite part of my job, I reminded myself that I get to look at the books all day long. And how on some days I even wished I could disappear with this townhouse small library to a distant place, and bags of coffee, but then at last I sadly sigh because that's near to impossible. I normally don't dream normal.

"Lee, dear help me get this book. Can you?", Mrs. George, my neighbor asked, handing me a note. She was an old lady in her late 60's who loved to read works by Harper Lee, but as sad and true it was that only two of her books were really remarkable.

I looked down at the note, smiling. "Another classic", I commmented.

She stared at me from above her glasses that lay on the brigde of her nose. "Here's the secret", she whispered, "Mr. George says he doesn't love reading, but then every saturday morning he writes down a name and sticks it on his coffee mug when I'm asleep. That's his crappy handwriting, you see", she said pointing to the note at the end and I stiffled a laugh.

Mr. George, her husband in his early 70's was paralyzed from his hips to his legs after a severe accident fifteen years ago and since then, he couldn't walk. Spending year after year on the same bed did make him a little grumpy at times, and on top his growing age, other than that he was a nice man with good taste in classics and most importantly he loved his wife.

"And he still wants you to read it aloud and clear, while he pretends to sleep?", I asked knowingly.

She nodded, "Still as proud as ever. He is very cool."

I couldn't hold back my laugh this time and recieved a stern look from Fiona from her desk. I mouthed a sorry, before turning back to find the book. I searched the classic collection rows and finally found with the early 50's books. I pulled out the copy of "The Catcher in the Rye", by J. D. Salinger. "Here you go", I passed her the old book.

"Thank you, dear", she smiled and left.

After I was done arranging the series, clearing off the dust, and helping Elle to sort out all the returned books in their respected places, I slowly went to my favourite row and I somehow, didn't jump out of excitement when I saw the copy of, "Emma", right where the place I hid yesterday so that no one takes it away. Luckily, it was still there. I pulled it out, looking around if Fiona was secretly monitoring me, but no, even she had her head buried in a book.

I took out the page where I left a bookmark, and I was surprised to see some words scribbled on it, when I clearly remember putting a clean one last day.

"East Merrindale, street 47 Sun corp. building. Time: 7 pm", I read it out, feeling a little uneasy at that familiar sounding adress. Wasn't it the place where I was last night? Then, I looked around to see if there was anything suspicious, or anyone, but the little library seemed as normal as everyday. Quiet and peaceful.