• Between the Lines

    She glanced up quickly from the book. He’s reading his book. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked up from the pages. She dropped his gaze instantly, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly.
    ‘Holy crap, I’m going to look like a stalker,’ Sixteen year old Delilah thought to herself. ‘if I keep doing that.’ She sighed and closed her book.
    Glancing at her snoopy watch, she stood and stretched. “About time I made my exit.” The brunette muttered to herself.
    Her response was several shushes from the various other occupants of the room. She rolled her eyes and bent to pick up her various books, and attempted to balance the large pile.
    “Yeah, yeah,” Delilah muttered, and received another round of shushing sounds. She winced slightly as someone’s spittle whizzed past her face.
    Straightening suddenly, she turned to look around the room. Everyone was settled back into their books after the mild disturbance. “I could’ve sworn…” she whispered.

    “SHUSH!”

    Sighing, she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, mentally vowing to never read in this room again, even if that did mean sitting with loud little kids most of the time.
    All her books safely packed away, she walked out of the room with a manic grin on her face, plan in mind.
    When she was just outside the room, she poked her head back in the room.
    “You know, when I rule the world, I am going to make you read with all the noisy kids, and take away all your superiority of this room! HA-HA!” She shut the door quickly after she was done, narrowly avoiding the barrage of books and magazines thrown where her head had been seconds before. She poked her head back in when they had landed. “I know, I know. SHUSH!” Before ducking out again, she saw the cute guy she’d been ogling laughing with his head thrown back.
    She laughed freely as she trotted happily over to the front desk to a smiling librarian.
    “You should really give them a break. Those poor souls will come to get you, or ban you from the Quiet Room.” The grey haired woman chuckled at the youth.
    “Yeah, but they got mad at me for ‘turning a page too loud’.” Del leaned against the counter. “They treat it like the Complete and Total Silence Room.” She rolled her eyes and grinned.
    “Well do you have any books today, or should I be informing the government that the apocalypse is upon us?” The older woman smiled.
    “No Debby, the world is safe once more, I have three books here!” She dropped the huge tomes on the counter with a rather audible ‘THUD’, the cheerful complimentary bookmarks jumping around in their cradle.
    “Goodness child!” Deb exclaimed. “I don’t know where you find the time to read these in two weeks, most times less!”
    “He-he… I shall never reveal my secret! NEVER!” Del pointed to the roof as she yelled, putting emphasis on the ‘NEVER’. Deb only smiled as she brought the books down from the higher counter to scan them out.
    “Don’t you need my card?”
    “No, you’re here so often I just type in your name.”
    “That’s what I figured, but I thought I’d ask anyways.” Del grinned.
    “Yes, well, that’s all fun and good, but you should give me your card now.” Deb held out her hand expectantly.
    “I knew it! It’s a conspiracy I tell you!” She said without real feeling as she handed over the card.
    Deborah Clairesse has been the head librarian at Brenton Public Library for many years. She was grey haired and proud of it, a grandmother of three and one of those old people you just have to love. She’d known Delilah since she was in diapers.
    “Well Debby my dear chum, it is about time I took my leave from here.” Del drawled out in a bad English accent.
    “No normal sixteen year old should have that kind of vocabulary and understand it.”
    “Who said I was normal?” Delilah tapped her temple thoughtfully.
    “No idea who would get that impression.” Deb smiled wryly.
    The irony there is that Delilah looked like a fairly run of the mill teenager.
    She had chestnut brown hair- shoulder length with bangs on one side, just long enough to aggravate her mother. Oval shaped glasses that obscured the view of her sparkling hazel eyes. Not what people usually consider hazel, with mostly browns mixed together, but the less common version that switched between green, green-blue, light brown, and sometimes a combination of all three. A not quite skinny, not quite medium build gave her larger curves in the hips department than most; a trait she wished would fall off the face of the earth already. Her clothes were rather varied, a select few articles some would consider ‘trendy’, most were either a very dark colour, or a very vibrant colour. Some of the things she wore were things she found around the house or in a dress-up trunk in the basement of her house, or even hand-me-downs. She also owned a very large collection of hats, equally varied as her wardrobe.
    “I demand names! I shall hunt them down and…” she trailed off wickedly, smiling and rubbing her hands together in an ‘evil scientist’ sort of manner.
    “Oh no! Not that!” Deb brought a hand to her mouth in mock horror.
    “Yes, that. I shall… Get to know them!!” She exclaimed, laughing like the evil scientist had found the formula.
    “I’ll never talk!”
    Del promptly burst into uncontrollable laughter and leaned against the counter for support, gasping, struggling to get air in her starved lungs.
    “You know what, Deb?” Del managed after a minute more of gasping. “I think you might be my hero.”
    The old woman laughed. “Good to hear, love.”
    The recovered youth glanced behind her.
    “It would seem that we’re holding up the line, Debby dear. I must bid you farewell.” Del performed a sweeping bow, and stowed her books into a large colourful tote. “See you!”
    “Bye dear,” Deb said mildly while scanning the next person in line’s card.
    Suddenly, an old woman came bustling out of the Quiet Room.
    “That girl is a menace!” She cried, jabbing a finger in Delilah’s direction.
    With a laugh, she saluted the ladies with two fingers. “Have fun with that Deb!” She chortled again, running through the lobby towards the door, waving behind her at the women.

    Delilah Jones whistled a little tune to herself as she strode into the parking lot towards her fire-hydrant-red truck.
    ‘Beautiful day,’ She thought to herself, glancing at the bluer than blue sky, and the few fluffy white clouds, but larger clouds on the horizon while she dug in her book infested tote for her keys. ‘It’d be even more beautiful if I could find my keys…’ She had reached the truck and still hadn’t found them, so she began pulling out the over-sized books and resting them on the roof of her truck. “Where the hell are they?” She muttered, almost angrily.
    She checked her pockets hurriedly. “Where could they be?” She peered through the window of her truck, cupping her hands around her eyes to shade them. “Damn, I don’t see them. I must have dropped them somewhere…” She said with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She squatted down by the driver side of the truck and inspected the tarmac thoroughly. “I don’t see them… Must be in the library…” She watched the pavement for her keys as she went back inside to a surprised Deb.
    “Del? What’s wrong dear?”
    “I think I lost my keys… I didn’t leave them outside that I could see, and my truck is still there so I think I left them in here somewhere.” Delilah asked somewhat anxiously.
    “Oh, no! I haven’t seen them here, and no one’s brought them up. Maybe they’re in the QRR?”
    Delilah sighed dramatically. “Well, that’s just going to ruin my perfect exit.” She rolled her eyes and smiled ruefully, but she walked over to the door she had made her ‘perfect exit’ from, watching the ground for the escapee keys.
    In fact, she was so absorbed in her searching; she almost smashed her nose against the door’s plaque that read ‘Quiet Reading Room’.
    She stopped, and stared at the handle a moment with a look of dread on her face, then took a deep breath, and turned it, wincing.
    She opened the door slowly, drawing out the squeak of the hinges, standing in the doorway. Everyone looked up, and most of them glared harshly.
    “Attention readers of the Quiet Reading Room. I’m quite sorry to disrupt your reading process, yet again, but I am faced with a dilemma. I’ve gone and misplaced my keys, and unfortunately, this is the last place I can think to find them. I ask you of one thing before I start my search,” She made eye contact with some old ladies in her ‘audience’. “Please do not hold my keys hostage as some silly retribution for my antics. This room is an asylum for people looking to escape reality for a while and sit and read quietly, but those among you who have become the self-appointed wardens of this room are taking it to a ridiculous level. I would be perfectly happy to respect the rules and quietness level of the room if you crazy old Betties wouldn’t shush me for sighing, giggling, or reacting to a book in general. You’ve made it a game for me. But if you are holding my keys hostage, quit being so childish and fork them over. Feel free to leave them at the front desk with Deborah, rather than face the embarrassment of handing them to me personally, but don’t hide them for your sick personal satisfaction.” Throughout this speech she kept a perfectly civil and polite tone. “Thank you.” She smiled her sweetest smile.
    And promptly began her rather violent search for her keys.
    She stomped over to where she had been sitting, and the poor old woman who had filled her vacated seat was fixed with a smile so sweet it was evil, and moved quite hurriedly from the spot. The terrifying smile was replaced by a shining genuine one of thanks, and then turned to frown at the short and squat beige armchair.
    “Where to start… Where to start…?” she murmured to herself before getting down on all fours to search under the chair. “Idiotic keys, what on earth possessed you to jump out of my pocket? How annoying.”
    Del had a habit of talking to herself when her mind wandered, and as it was, her mind often wandered as she searched for things. What she would talk to herself about could vary with her moods, or simply anything that came to mind. The topic on her brain today happened to be the occupants of the QRR.
    “Cranky old ladies with nothing better to do than to enforce a tyrannical rule over the room and yell at me. All I did was snicker at a book. How’s it my fault if I can’t control my laughter. Also, what’s the point of reading if you can’t enjoy it? Cantankerous and bitter because they have no sense of humour- Cantankerous, what a good word- and I have humour out the wazoo.”
    “Well really now.” Piped up one of the cantankerous old ladies.
    “Bite me ma’am.” Came from under the chair with a mild tone.
    When the elderly woman gasped at the sheer rudeness of the statement, a hearty chuckle came from under the chair.
    “Oh, but I do love it when I appal someone.” With that came another chuckle, and a sneeze. Then another. And another.
    Finally, Delilah emerged with mussed hair, slightly dusty, and sneezing.
    “I’ll be back. Make sure no one sits there or I’ll be forced to waste more of your precious silence with blunt and witty remarks.” Delilah said, but with a sneeze every third or so word. She then walked out still sneezing, a hand over her mouth and nose.
    Once in the main area, she managed to get over to Deborah, still sneezing. She was able to get out one word before she was attacked by another wave of sneezes.
    “Help!”
    Deborah raised her eyebrows and reached for the box of tissues next to her monitor, and placed them on the counter in front of Del.
    “Here you go honey. Now take that over there so I can help these good people behind you.” She smiled and gently shooed her down the counter.
    Del slid the box down the counter with a hand, to make room for the family of four next in line could sign out their books. Their faces varied from fear to awe as they watched her continued sneezing fit.
    “Wow…” a little boy of about four murmured. “That’s amazazing!”
    “Amazing, dear.” His mother corrected him idly, handing Deb their books.
    “You think so too, Mommy?”
    “Come on, dear.” She sighed and guided him towards the exit.
    By this time, Delilah had stopped sneezing long enough to get some air into her lungs and blow her nose, stopping the sneezes entirely.
    “Never underestimate the power of tissues!” Delilah shouted triumphantly, brandishing the box in the air in a pose reminiscent of a superhero. She held that position a moment, then walked calmly back to Deborah, putting the box in front of her. “Thanks, Debby.” She smiled, and then turned about face to the QRR.
    Once inside, she found that the old ladies had taken her threat into consideration and vacated the chairs on either side of the chair, and happily dived under it.
    “Dust bunny… Dust bunny… Hair? Ew… Dust bunny…” Delilah muttered as she rooted around under the chair, throwing out the items as they were called.
    “Dust bunny… Keys… Dust bunny… More hair… Dust bunny… Hey, wait!!” Delilah scrambled out from under the chair after the keys she had tossed through the air.
    The keys soared through the air in a neat little arc, falling down to land- ironically- directly in the lap of the cute guy Delilah had been ogling not so long ago.
    Delilah, while her keys did the neat little arc through the air, had been chasing them furiously, running across the room, jumping chairs and old ladies like hurdles, only to just barely manage stopping just short of smashing into the guy’s chest. He had stood up, you see, and was dangling her keys by the ring, which jingled happily.
    “These yours?” He asked, just containing his laughter within an authentic British accent.
    Delilah tilted her head slightly to the side and gave him a bemused expression, then said:
    “I’m not entirely positive as to why you’re laughing, but yes, those are -in fact- my keys. May I have them back now please?” She had backed away from him, so she then extended her hand, palm up, expectantly.
    “So polite,” He chuckled again and let the keys drop into her waiting hand.
    “Gracias!” She shot him a winning smile and practically skipping- well really, she actually did skip out, no practically about it.
    “Goodness,” one of the old ladies sputtered once Delilah was gone. “now she’s learning Spanish!”
    “Just how many languages does she know now?” Another asked, rather hatefully I must say.
    “I’ve lost count.”
    If human ears had the ability to twitch in the direction of a sound that interested them, his certainly would have.
    “Pardon me ladies, but what were you saying just now?” He tapped, what looked to be, their leader on the shoulder.
    She turned to face him and flushed a light pink on her cheekbones.
    “Oh, just that, menace, Delilah.” She said the title with distaste.
    “Yes, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with her antics, Otto dear.” Another piped up.
    He laughed softly, making them all turn to fluttery teenagers for a second again.
    “Thank you dear ladies for your concern, but I simply wanted to know how many languages she speaks. You made it seem like a lot.” He smiled.
    “Oh, well, hmm, let’s see now…” The elderly ringleader looked thoughtful. “There’s English, obviously.” She tapped her index finger, the obvious start of a list. “And French,” she ticked off another.
    “Oh, Mary, don’t forget that sign language thing she was muddling in not so long ago!”
    “Ah, yes thank you Alice. So, that makes three, and now she’s learning Spanish! Crazy girl that one,” Mary concluded.
    Otto gave a thoughtful glance to the door Delilah had just skipped out of.
    “Crazy, hmm?”

    ++++++

    Delilah, meanwhile, was having a mini-celebration with Deb.
    “Ha-ha-ha-ha-haa-ha, I found my keys!” she sang while doing a victory dance.
    “Oh good!” Deb laughed at her antics. “I’m glad you found them, but… Where are your books?” Deb looked around the counter, and on the floor by Delilah.
    Delilah stopped mid-dance.
    “OH GOD NO. They’re on the roof of my truck!!!” she cried in dismay. Looking out the front doors, and seeing the rain splattering on the sidewalk, she took off at a mad dash for the doors.
    “Delilah! Your keys!” Deb called after her.
    She skidded to a stop, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum, and pulled a tight U-turn in the lobby, running back up to the desk where Deb was holding out the flighty keys. She snatched them from Deb with a call of “Thanks, Deb!” and booked it out the door.
    Deb chuckled fondly as she watched the ostentatious young girl dash out the door. When she turned back to the desk, still smiling, she found Otto staring after Delilah’s path with a small, if slightly bemused, smile on his face.
    “Quite the odd one, isn’t she?” Otto turned at Deb’s question.
    “Hmm?” at Deb’s gesture towards the doors he added, “Oh, yes, I suppose she is a little different.” He smiled kindly.
    “And rather proud of it, too.” Replied Deb, as she grabbed the books Otto had set on the counter while he dug in his wallet for his card.
    “It seems that way, doesn’t it?” He said it more by way of a statement than a question.
    “Mmhmm,” Deb answered absent-mindedly, checking out his books. She paused as she noticed the titles. “The Hobbit, and The Lord of the Rings trilogy, again? Don’t you crave anything new?” Deb teased lightly, passing them through the de-sensitizer.
    “Never even occurred to me. Tolkien was a master I intend on honouring.” Otto grinned widely.
    Deb sighed dramatically. “Well, if you insist…” She slid his books to him over the counter.
    “I do.” He took them, still grinning.
    “Alright, well, have fun in middle-earth, dear.”
    “I’ll be sure to do that. ‘Bye Mrs. Clairesse.”
    Deb did another mock sigh. “Will I ever be able to convince you to call me by my first name?”
    “It’s doubtful, Mrs. Clairesse.” Otto smiled cheekily.
    “Well, unfortunately for you, young sir, I learned a stubborn streak from my flamboyant friend, so I won’t be giving up anytime soon!” She exclaimed excitedly, contrasting the perfectly calm look on her face, and scanned the next person’s card.
    “… Flamboyant Friend?”
    “Yes that’s what I refer to Delilah as. She has a certain fondness for alliterations.” Deb smiled fondly.
    “Ah, I see. Well, so do I, Mrs. Clairesse. So do I.” Otto gave her a thoughtful look, and started towards the exit.
    Just as he reached the door, it swung out with considerable force, and a colourful blur slammed into him.
    “Found- Omft!” The blur turned out to be Delilah, back from her book rescue mission, and moving at mach speed.
    Well, not anymore, since she rammed into his chest. Which, in turn caused all the books to fall to the ground with a loud thud. Luckily they didn’t go flying, because books that size could easily hurt a passer-by. And by hurt, I mean maim.
    “Oh, merde, Désolé Monsieur. Oh, merde. I mean, sorry!” Delilah, flustered, stooped to gather their fallen books.
    Otto squatted down with her. “C’est d’accord, c’est toute d’accord.”
    Delilah looked up quickly, startled by the reply. “You speak French?”
    “Yeah, at least, I like to think so.” He chuckled lightly as they stood and the sorted books in hand.
    Delilah fixed him with a rather intense stare for a moment, which he handled quite well, for others were known to fidget, or even just run away when they got that look. Then she thrust out her hand.
    “I’m Delilah. Sorry ‘bout bumping into you” She grinned sheepishly, eyes sparkling behind her frames.
    Otto looked slightly surprised by the sudden gesture, which nearly jabbed him in the ribs, but he recovered with a sly grin.
    Grin still in place, he took her hand gently in his own. Bending over it, he lightly brushed his lips against her knuckles.
    “Otto Freeman, pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.” He straightened up and gave her a cheeky grin. “Please forgive me for dashing off like this, but middle-earth awaits, and this library seems to be full of rather… flamboyant... distractions today.”
    When a rather dazed Delilah just murmured a soft: “’Bye, then.” Otto flashed the pearly whites once more at her and coolly walked through the double doors they’d been blocking.
    Delilah stood there a minute or so longer before waving to the giggling Deb in a bit of a daze, and stepping back out the doors, into the pouring rain.