Three weeks had elapsed since Seth Ryan last visited the library. For nearly six months he'd been visiting at least twice a week, checking out horror and action novels, often sprawling on a seat and reading a few chapters before taking his picks home, so the fact that his tall, broad frame hadn't appeared inside the council building's walls for twenty-four days had not gone unnoticed by the library staff.
Only one of the librarians, Ellie, knew why he'd stayed away. She'd asked a question of him, the sort of question that anyone with an ounce of sensitivity and an IQ above room temperature should know not to ask of a returned serviceman. As soon as she'd finished speaking, he's stared at her, dumbstruck, his dark grey eyes fixed on hers, before suddenly picking up his books and shoving them into his backpack. He'd headed out of the glass doors without responding, and Ellie had immediately realised just how foolish and stupid her question had been.
That had been the last time he'd ventured here until today. Maybe the weather had driven him back. It had been a cold, miserable week of rain. The humidity made everything feel damp, and the unpredictable skies kept people indoors, away for their usual, outdoor leisure activities. Drying clothes became a nightmare in a country where garments were normally dried outside, on a line. Seth was a compulsive reader. He'd have long finished the last four books he checked out.
The gazes of the three library staff on duty turned to Seth as he stepped inside the doors and shrugged off his backpack and his motorcycle jacket in one, rough, manoeuvre. The helmet that had been hooked over his wrist was dotted with raindrops, and his jeans carried the heavy scent of rain. He wiped his boots on the mat, and made his way to the book return facility.
Seth seemed acutely aware of the attention that his presence was attracting, but he seemed equally determined to ignore it as he checked his books back in. He was especially careful to avoid catching Ellie's eye.
Ellie's shoulders slumped and her heart sunk. For a while she thought he might lodge a complaint against her. That would be the end of her, wouldn't it? She was thirty-six years old and single. Without a job, she was sunk. But he didn't. Or, rather, he hadn't, not yet. Maybe he still would. Maybe he was just biding his time, trying to figure out how best to word his complaint.
Another small part of her had hoped that her question hadn't offended him, and his absence was due to him being on holiday. That had been wishful thinking. Deep down, she'd known the truth. She'd asked the unaskable, and he'd responded with the age-old tactic of avoidance.
'Excuse me?'
Ellie turned around to see an international student trying to attract her attention. 'I'm sorry, how can I help?' she asked.
'I'd like to book a room please, for my study group. Next Tuesday, please.'
Ellie forced herself to smile and ask for the preferred time and room. The student knew what she wanted, and the booking was quickly made. All the same, by the time Ellie had finalised the task, Seth had finished checking his books back in and had disappeared amongst the shelves.
The library was busy, but Seth was a man of habit, so she knew he'd probably be in the general fiction area. He liked Dean Koontz and Stephen King and the early Lee Child books. Sometimes he read romance, and sometimes he read comedy, but mostly it was action or horror.
Should she go and find him? Apologise? Or would that just make it worse? He probably wanted to forget it had ever happened. He was here to borrow books, after all, not make small talk with librarians, regardless of how much the two of them may have flirted with each other in the past.
Seth wasn't a man who immediately stood out, but all the same, he'd quickly become the eye candy of the library staff. He'd need to drop a few kilos to have washboard abs, but there was something about the extra weight on an otherwise muscular frame that suited him. His face was proportionate if not handsome, and although his teeth curiously ground flat at the edges, they were straight and white.
From his library card information file the librarians knew he was thirty-nine years old, and he looked his age. Quiet but not shy, confident but not aggressive. A paramedic these days, having retired from service nearly four years ago. He rode a Harley, lived in a rented house two kilometres away, and had listed his mother as his emergency contact.
He wasn't a serial flirt, but at some time over the past few months, his banter with Ellie had shifted from casual to friendly to something more, and she'd responded in kind. She'd anticipated his visits, and her efforts with her hair and make-up had improved. Seth, too, had seemed to be ensuring he was well dressed for his visits. And both of them had kept their flirting as discreet as possible, always cautious not to let the other library staff catch them.
Did you kill anyone while you were serving?
Oh God, the stupidity of the question. If only she could explain. She understood that no matter what she said to justify it, it would still be an insensitive question, but maybe if she could tell him why she'd asked, he'd judge her less harshly.
She spent half an hour agonising over what to do. In the end, she did and said nothing. Seth found some books, checked them out, and left the library.
She wondered if and when she'd see him again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seth hadn't really known what to expect from life as a civilian. He waited for PTSD to set in. It didn't. He waited to become an alcoholic. He didn't. He waited to find out his wife had spent years cheating on him. He didn't.
That wasn't to say the adjustment was easy, or that his marriage survived his return, because neither were true. He'd launched himself straight into study, and to bring in a few dollars he picked up weekend security work. He was frequently out of the house, but he was around a hell of a lot more than he'd been previously, and it turned out to be too much for either his or Nicole's liking.
They'd spent ten years together, seven of that married, but she'd never followed him to his postings, instead electing to remain on the Gold Coast. Maybe if she had gone with him, they'd both have realised that the love was long gone, but she hadn't. It was only in the months after his discharge that reality set in. It was over.
The divorce was amicable, and she'd quickly moved on, remarried and had recently had her first child. He was happy for her. Why wouldn't he be? During their union he'd suffered none of the indignities, stress or embarrassment that some of his colleagues had endured with their spouses. He and Nicole had similar spending and saving habits, could live compatibly, and had engaged in decent, satisfying sex. Not mind blowing, but it had certainly scratched the itch.
He'd assumed it would be easy enough to find another partner. He wasn't a fussy man, and judging by some of the dickheads his sisters had dated, women's standards could be abysmal, but he'd been sorely disappointed when it came to dating in his mid thirties. What he'd quickly learned was that a man his age who was studying full time wasn't to be considered a serious prospect. He was viewed with suspicion at best.
Things hadn't perked up when he'd graduated. A shift-worker who was ex-army? Not exactly top of women's hit lists. Oh well. Live and learn. Being single wasn't ideal, but he wasn't someone who needed a partner to be fulfilled, and he'd spent enough time away from his wife to be more than capable of meeting his own sexual needs.
Or, so he'd thought. Ellie had changed that. Ellie and the Cujo incident. He'd accidentally lost 'Cujo' - a book he'd read a decade ago, but had enjoyed re-reading nonetheless - and had been forced to confess his sins to the librarian. Ellie had been sympathetic, and while accepting payment for the lost book, had commented that it must be a novel that made no sense to today's youth, who had mobile phones they always took with them, and would therefore never ended up stranded in a broken down car on a deserted property, unable to move for fear of being attacked by a rabid dog.
He'd had a rough shift the night before, and her casual chatter and pretty smile had caught him off guard. She was cute, too, maybe five foot five or five six with a slim figure and long, glossy black hair. He'd been immediately hooked.
From then on he'd found it impossible to stay away from her. He found excuses to ask her questions and request assistance. The library was set up to allow visitors to check out and return books, make reservations and run searches independent of help, but God help him, she was so lovely he'd managed to rummage up countless excuses to seek her assistance.
She was always exceptionally helpful, which he'd liked to have put down to immediate mutual attraction, but the reality was that it was probably just her natural personality. Everyone liked her, and why wouldn't they? Nonetheless, friendly, casual banter, had become more and more flirtatious as the weeks wore on. He began to anticipate his trips to the library for more than one reason, even though he was flummoxed as to how he might ask her out without coming across as a complete goose. For all he knew, she had a partner at home and was just a flirtatious girl.
He tried to scope her out. Just over a month ago he'd heard a primary school student interviewing her for his school project. From that he'd learned her parents were Vietnamese Catholics who'd fled to Australia on an illegal boat in the late seventies. He was keen to learn more, but Ellie had noticed he was listening in and had glanced up and smiled at him and Seth, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, had quickly moved away.
At any rate, their flirt-fest had seemed to be inching towards a date at slow but steady speed when she'd asked her doozy of a question. If he hadn't been so shocked, he would have asked her if she really didn't know that wasn't a question to ask of anyone, let alone in a crowded library at eleven am on a Tuesday morning.
What had prompted her to ask? Had her parent's experiences made her a pacifist? Was she checking to see if he was a meat-headed racist who had joined so he could knock off as many sand niggers as possible? Or had it been a complete brain fart where the question had slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself?
He had no idea. In the end, he'd realised that sitting at home and pondering her motives wouldn't either give him the answer, or do anything about his current lack of reading material, and he'd skulked back to the library. Everyone had stared at him, which had been disconcerting to say the least. He hoped in time they'd get over it. He, like most people, was a creature of habit. He didn't want to have to travel to another library.
It was currently Saturday morning and he was thinking about Ellie as he did his grocery shopping. Normally he avoided grocery shopping on weekends, but like his trip to the library, his trip to Coles was forced. He had no bread, no milk, no cereal, no pasta, no meat... Well, nothing, really. Breakfast had been half a pack of salted cashews, and he'd had to wipe his arse with a kitchen towel because he was out of both toilet papers and tissues.
'Have a teddy,' a toddler demanded as he stood at the deli counter.
Seth stared at the child, taking in the determined gaze, and the box of Tiny Teddies clutched in his outstretched arm.
