Librarians | Stozier

02

Richie Tozier had always been loud. For the longest he can remember, he'd heard the phrase "Shut up, Richie!" on almost a daily basis. It wasn't that he had a lot to say, he just enjoyed making people laugh, sometimes uncomfortably, but that was part of the job.

He supposed maybe he was average in the way that other teenagers also hated school. Everyone there knew who he was, mostly having a negative opinion, but that didn't matter. Of course, he cared what other people thought, everyone did, but he figured it was idiotic to let others decide what you did or said. Richie hated being controlled, whether it be by discipline or routine, and it was pretty obvious if you'd ever been around him.

Richie was woken every morning by something different. Sometimes his alarm, which only partially worked as the snooze button had been broken from repeated force. Sometimes by his mother, Maggie, who'd come in at almost eight, saying he'd be late if he didn't get up right then. Or, if he was lucky, the paperboy would throw the news directly at his window. That was only when he was on time. After shoving his glasses on and tying his shoes, he'd drive himself to school at around 8:20 in a terribly ugly maroon Toyota Corolla Tercel, most of the time speeding an extra seven or eight miles per hour.

At lunch, Richie hung outside the school building with Beverly. Sometimes they'd smoke cigarettes, and sometimes Bev would bring along Ben. He didn't smoke, though. He just watched. After school he liked to go to the arcade, or home to play on his Sega Genesis. Sometimes Bill or Bev would accompany him in playing video games, but he often won, making it less fun for them.

Richie's dad, Wentworth, was a dentist, so getting a couple bucks here and there wasn't a big deal. He'd gotten the Genesis for his 15th birthday, not knowing the price but assuming it was pretty high. When Richie got his license, Went handed down his old car to his son. He told him to pay for the gas himself, but, seeing as Richie was jobless, he continued to pay him in exchange for yard work. After the Toziers' lawn was sparkling, and Richie still drove to school and back every day (sometimes stopping at the arcade and exchanging Went's quarters for tokens), his father told him to get a job.

Luckily, on Thursday, October 8th, 1992, a day he biked to school, he saw some "Looking To Hire" flyers for the Derry Public Library on the school receptionist's desk when receiving a late slip. He snatched one up and chuckled, not legitimately considering going in for a job interview.

That afternoon, he was biking from school as he thought to visit the arcade, turning left on Witcham street instead of right. Something about the realization that he didn't have enough money to play Street Fighter for more than two rounds, and turning around, made him disgruntled enough to take the flyer from his pocket when he got home. It wasn't that he was upset he was no longer being handed money, but the registration that he'd never really worked for it in the first place.

He looked over the piece of shiny blue paper that now had white zebra stripes all over it from where he crumpled it up. In the small, green letters at the bottom, it showed the address, though Richie already knew where it was. He sat and stared at it for a while, proceeding to hold it curved against his lips while he thought. His mother walked into his room holding a sandwich on a plate, which she then handed to him.

"Thanks, Mom." He set the plate down on his desk, along with the flyer. Maggie leaned over his shoulder, examining a certain blue paper he just set down. He took a bite of the sandwich as she laughed.

"Derry Public Library? You? Slim chance."

Richie took this as a challenge. "What?" he said through chewing. "I could work at a library."

"Oh, please, you'd never even get hired."

"I can be very charming, Mom! You have no idea!"

She walked up to him and wiped away some mayonnaise that got on his lip. "Sure you can, Rich." She fixed his hair a bit as he took another bite.

"I'll get hired, you'll see."

The next day, Richie asked Beverly what she thought. After he proposed the idea, she started to chortle. "Are you serious?" He rolled his eyes.

"I need the money." He took a drag of his cigarette. "How else am I gonna knock Connor Bowers' cock off at Street Fighter?"

"I mean, go for it, I guess... You know Stanley works there, right? Bill's friend."

"Oh, the Jewish kid?" he asked, his cigarette between his teeth. "Hah! He dresses the part, that's for sure."

Richie biked to the library after school on the next Monday, not seeing Stan as he was filing the returned books in the back. He then scheduled an interview with Mr. Ford, who, for some reason, really liked Richie. Three days after that, on Monday, October 12th, he went to the interview in his Sunday best, turning on the Tozier Charm for good ol' Mr. Ford.

"Thanks a bunch, Mr. Ford. You can count on me."

And Richie got hired.