Short Story

The Night Librarian
In the quiet corner of the library stacks, where the very essence of the books seemed to breathe, the librarian embarked on her nightly routine. With a rhythmic squeak, she pushed a trolley laden with grimoires and mystical texts toward their designated spot in the dark recesses. She spoke to the books, admonishing them, "It's not as if any of you are chained. Behave yourselves!"
By Kims gathoni3 years ago in Fiction
Solitary Grains Entwine
Fists beat the door, enough to resemble an earthquake as all the surrounding items shook. Maybe they were fearful too. How many days of fear had these items been companions to. "Just a moment.", she stalled while trying to think what misstep she could have made. She quickly put on her head garb and ran to the door. Opening it hesitantly, not wanting to meet a fist to her face, she is ever so cautious. "Were you undressed, what took so long. If you are going to live here, there are simple things to follow." "I was not undressed, just without my head piece. I didn't want to open the door without it. Out of respect." "Respect would be to have it on and answer the door." Before realizing what had happened she felt a hot stinging on her face. Then pain. He had smacked her accross the face. She felt a buzzing in her flesh. Stunned and promptly irreverent she stared into his face. "We sponsored you coming here. We have ways. Not your ways, our ways. The things you do and say affect me, my family, your safety even. I heard what you did today. I guess I must remind you." She began trying to explain. Not more than three words left her lips before she felt another slap upon her face. This time the words fell out of her mouth and remained lost. She sat wordless and silent. "You, listen", he said, "Only listen." She nodded in understanding. "You are not to go to market alone. You are not to go without your full dress garment. You are not to speak to people especially about topics of your choosing. If you have things to criticize, know that no one wishes to hear it. That boy and his sister, today, were not your friends. We heard about everything. Now because you are newly here and I presume you were coaxed into some of these talks I will let it go, but this is your warning. Understand?" "Yes sir.", she whispered out. "Okay than, you may continue with what you were doing. Forget all this unpleasantness, but remember you are trying to make a new home here." He leaves closing the door behind him. She added another length to some braided cord she has been working on. It has become her gage of loneliness. She continues another section everytime she feels lost or upset. Settling in here would not be easy, but she wouldn't let it break her either. She knew that boy looked like a spy traitor earlier. Damn tattler, she would need to be more guarded. Criticizing the local politics was dangerous, she knew as she had been doing it. She needed to be smarter. She finished a long section of braid, tied it off at a stopping point. Once secure she moved on. She felt better. Days rolled on in this way. She seemed to be in trouble everyday. Sometimes minor infractions, other times huge mistakes that always jeopardize the family 'who had been so kind to her'. She felt like an ice skater who just realized the ice lake she skated on is fractured. The family seemed to be looking for reasons to be upset with her. As the days rolled on the braid she worked on grew longer as well. She now wrapped it around a box she had used from the move to keep the braid from tangling. It had to be as long as a soccer field by now. As she prepared to go to market today, she reminded herself of the rules. Most importantly NOT to speak with anyone. Don't buy anything that wasn't on the list. She had all the intentions to follow these rules. At market, a boy she had never seen before sat selling rice. Rice was on the list. She softly walks towards his stand. She approaches from the corner as to avoid the boys immediate attention. However, her approach doesn't work. The boy see's her and stands up. "Dont think about stealing." "I would never", she says shocked at the accusation. "Well the other day a nice girl, dressed like you, talked me up and later I realized she stole. I got in trouble." "I'm sorry. That is horrible. I get in trouble a lot, not for things like stealing. Anyways I would never. I'm kinda new here and it has been hard." "Well, life is hard." "Yes, I guess." "Want rice?" "Well, I dont know. Is there another stand selling rice." The boy stops and looks her over. He scratches his hand and then moves his hand to his chin. He looks as if he is trying to understand the situation. "You really are new here. Don't respond to people like that." "Why? You accuse me of stealing. You tell me your woes, but care nothing for mine. You are the sales person in this situation. It's a fair question." "There is another place selling rice. Probably as good as mine too. Maybe a few if you keep walking." "I don't feel like walking. I'll buy some rice.", she took the list and showed him so he could see the quantity. "Okay, rice.", he says as getting her order ready. He hands her the container and she gives him the money. She turns to leave. "What are your woes, why are you always in trouble?" "Nevermind, I don't feel like getting slapped for lingering and talking." "Are you allowed to take a job?" "A job?" "We need another person for a couple hours,1 day a week." "I would have to ask first, but I would like to." "It wouldn't be lingering, if you wanted to talk then." She smiled. It was nice to have someone understand her woes without having to explain her woes out right. "I could help you fit in here, better. Teach you things to make your life easier here." "Where does your sponsor live. I will speak with him, as is common." They exchanged information then parted ways. That evening there was a knock on her door. Not angry fists or aggressive annoyed knocks. A polite common knock. She opens the door promptly. "Can we talk?" "Yes.", I look at him and his wife. I offer beverages and my dinner. They sit. "Seems a family from the market see's promise in you. They have a daughter, who is a little younger, they want you to work with her 1 day a week. To get her comfortable and to help you here. The daughter can teach you things and show you around. The brother assures us he will oversee things and it will be quite safe. We told them you would be happy to do this. Are we correct?" "Yes" "Great." We ate dinner together. For the first time in weeks the atmosphere felt light. Friendly even. She could almost be tempted to call this place home. "Thank you for dinner, delicious. Just know, by you taking this job, you still have to fulfill your daily tasks." "Yes of course." "It's responsibility." "I know, thank you. Good night." With that they left. The job was great. The daughter quickly became a close friend. Her brother a better friend. They were like family. He had not lied, she learned things. A lot of things. Things that were helping her fit in. At first she quit getting in trouble. She liked working, it was fun. It didn't hurt that she had extra spending money as well. Then the knit picking began. Her quarters were never clean enough and her food prepared ever so wrong. Her speech needed work and appearance too. She worked on the braid nearly every night. Gathering strands, working them over and under. A calming practice that let her mind free. One night, a knock on her door. She promptly answered the door. "Hello sir, madam." "Hello. We need to talk." "Okay, come in." "You must quit working at market." She waited for more. For the reason. "Understood?" "Sir, why?" She felt the warm and painful bee sting feeling on her cheek. This time she didn't recoil. Instead, this time she stood strong. "Not understood sir.", she shielded her face as she said it. Using her forearms as shields. "You are a child, it's not a discussion. If you must know, we found you a better job. You should be thanking us." "A different job? What job?" "It's full time, in an office, our friends daughter has agreed to let you shadow her at first. U are welcome." "No. I'm sorry, I won't quit the market." "Your friends will understand. I will explain. This is more promising of a future. Think of your future. You will be there Monday." She wasn't ready for full time, for a new teacher and friends. She had just started to adjust. She knew they'd knit pick her more with full time work. "Sir, no, please. At least let me do both." "You can't. No it is settled. We will leave, let you think about it and prepare. We will be back tomorrow to take you." All she could muster was an exasperated, "Sir please", but he was already closing the door. This was supposed to be a better home than the one she left. But it was the same just different in appearance. She heard her fists beating the door after his departure. She called her friends. No answer. She began braiding, until one of the strands broke from the tension of her anger exuding it's power through her hands. That was it. She tied it off. It was done. She was too. She phoned her friends again. This time he answered. She explained everything. Words flowed from her mouth in an unstoppable fashion. "Those are better woes. You should have told me sooner." She wanted to be with them, not under the wing of her sponsor. They helped her, they shouldn't own her. The boy devised a plan. She felt slightly guilty at her own ungratefulness, but she knew no real joy could come from staying here like this. She had no real say and no ability to talk it out. She took the braided cord and tied it in a halo and let the tail hang mixing in with her hair. A visible token to remind her of the many unhappy nights. The freedom she felt while braiding and the night she had snapped, snapping her work. She couldn't wait, like he had said. Her friend would understand. She would be alone for one night in the desert before he met her at the reaundevue location. She didn't want to stay one more night. She packed her back pack and another bag. With that, she was ready to go. She wrote a note, trying to say thank you and explain. She knew they would say she was ungrateful, ignoring themselves in the equation. She knew, but like them, she couldn't care. She left. She made it to the desert. To an obscure spot in the middle of it. The sky was so still, the stars so bright she couldn't believe it was real. The quiet was so loud it rattled her nerves a bit. She found a spot to rest. She took out a blanket and small pillow she packed. She could make it one night by herself. She had been by herself most the time, until finding the boy at the market. She could embrace the desert for one night. She saw the sand get picked up by a breeze and swirl around before being swept away. She envisioned her self as a piece of sand, free. She clutched her braid as she closed her eyes. Engulfed in the deserts parched silence, "I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind." Sent from my Galaxy
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