The Notebook

Chapter 3

The orange tint of the sky gave the almost-empty library a melancholic ambience. The echoes of the last chatter of students were thinning, making the hum of the air conditioner even more audible.

Troy Albert Mendoza sat in the farthermost corner of the library. His presence almost completely concealed by the pile of dusty old books in the geology section.

Troy looked at his wristwatch. The reflectorized hands of his Rolex told him that it was fifteen minutes after five. He flipped yet another page of the classic novel he was reading.

She was late. Again.

A few seconds later, he heard rushing footsteps, the opening of the double-glass doors, and a sharp intake of breath. He turned to look at the source of the noise.

“Good afternoon Ma’am Vivian. I’m sorry I’m late,” Tina said, bowing a little, before bursting into a series of pants.

The librarian was a strict-looking woman of mid-forties. She was wearing a pair of thick spectacles over her round eyes and a line of lipstick the shade of magenta over her very thin lips.

Troy had never seen her smile in his three-day stay in the school.

From what he had overheard from other students, the poor woman was a single mother who was abandoned by her one and only son several years ago. She was never able to find the son in question and had become grumpy and hostile towards the younger population ever since.

“Nothing’s good in the afternoon Bettina. Get to work,” she snapped at Tina, her eyes narrowed.

The younger lady scrambled away to deposit her backpack on an empty table. She then proceeded to get the cleaning materials from the broom cupboard and started sweeping the floor.

Troy noticed that she was being rapidly reduced to skin and bones. He was positive that she looked even worse than she was three days ago.

He took out his black leather-bound notebook, scribbled a few words and secured it inside his pocket again.

At six o’clock, she would proceed to the local diner where she worked part time and would retire six hours later to the small apartment that their family were renting.

Cramped. Dark. Fairly kempt. Troy added in his mental notepad.

During Saturdays, Tina would rearrange all the books in the library, readying it for the week that follows. During Sundays, she would work for 18 hours in the local diner to make-up for the lost hours she was spending in school.

That was what Troy had found out in his recent research. Tina had only recently acquired the library job, owing to the fact that the final year school requirements demanded even more money.

Interestingly so, Troy had realized that Tina didn’t tell her friends about her library duties. Thus, if he had guessed it right, it was a sign that she was still upholding her dignity and didn’t want people to look at her with misty eyes.