Smokey Saga #70:
"
Imperfect Strangers
"
*****
Here we go, big seven-oh! Here's another story in the vein of good ol' "Lost And Found," also with a little "Millicent's" thrown in here, a little "Special Deliveries" tossed in there. If you know my stuff, you know I don't get into the sex
right
away, and this is no exception. This will actually be one of my most family-friendly ones until the intimate portions. Feel free to skim or skip if non-sex scenes don't interest you. Hope you like it, and as always, feedback's welcomed, valued and appreciated. ¡¡Feliz navidad y año nuevo, todos!!
*****
Aquí está la biblio-meca
Tuesday, November 1st, 2016, 3:58 p.m.
It was a cold, windy All Saints' Day. Leaves turned brittle and orange, collecting to crunch beneath pedestrians' feet. The scents of pumpkin and cinnamon were heavy in the air. Halloween costumes and decorations dropped half-price at fine retailers the city over. The Vikings had their fans riveted with football season in full swing. The Gregorian calendarial world turned over another page. Shorts, tanks and flip-flops were officially retired until spring 2017.
Business as usual went on at the Juniper Library. A beloved fixture in the Juniperites' fair city, it was founded in the early 1900s and had undergone scads of innovations since. The city paid its dues and laborers. While no Library of Congress, Juniper's premier literary loaner was much to write home about nonetheless. To say nothing of the size, selection, staff and other 's'-ential resources, customers were treated to one more lovely aiding device: a series of electronic directories. These beauties offered maps for navigation, and their own search engine for titles, authors and recommendations. The library was large enough to get lost in, so with a directory always nearby, patrons had easy access to the desired destination, be it a lookup to a book, computers, restrooms, or checkout.
The first flock of employees opened the building at 10:00 weekday mornings, joined by more co-workers throughout the day. Noon kicked off today's shift for factotum Laura McCollum, a genial early-30s blonde-lighted brunette who performed all sorts of tasks. The miscellany on her work plate consisted of sorting shelves, helping and checking out customers, tending to computer malfunctions, contributing to the newsletter, tacking up posters and placards, and so forth. She'd had little experience when applying four years ago, but won the staff over with her charm, social skills and varied talents.
"Hi, Gary!" she softly greeted Gary Brickman, one of the customer service members. "What's up?"
"Hey Laur, how're you doing?"
"Delightful and de-lovely, thank you. How was your Halloween?"
"Not too bad. Someone gave us an extra bag of candy, so the kids made out like bandits."
"Sweet. Literally. Yeah, I don't think I got too many trick-or-treaters the last few years, but this time it seemed to pick up a little."
"Neither'd we. Y'know what occurred to me though? About a decade ago, we got a
whole
lot of kids. And I guess some of 'em grew up. But besides, that was about when they changed Daylight Savings Time. It used to end in October. So ten years ago on Halloween, the clocks were already set back, and it got dark an hour earlier. And of course, no one trick-or-treats in broad daylight."
"Oh, wow...y'know, that's really interesting! I never thought of that."
"Yeah, you know what else is interesting? That used to make October technically the longest month of the year, with thirty-one days plus that one extra hour. But not anymore, since they moved it to November. Personally, I kinda preferred it the old way."
"I guess I never gave it that much thought. I'm just glad I got ten visits. So on average, I probably saw thirty kids. Did you dress up?"
"Nah, couldn't find anything I liked enough this time."
"Aw, I'm sorry. I was a zombie bride. Gave out candy, then scared everyone away. I'm still getting makeup out of my stubborn spots."
Laura worked full-time, her schedule varying one week to the next. The library was open twelve hours on weekdays, eight on Saturdays, and closed Sundays. So sometimes Laura worked four ten-hour days, other times five eights. But she was always granted one hour-long meal break, and occasional overtime. Had Laura her way, she'd stay at the library day and night. She'd get her mail there. She'd bring pillows and a sleeping bag. Alas, she wasn't permitted to work past her set shift.
Tuesdays were her favorite day, as these were the days the group readings for children took place. Each week a book was chosen, and kids and their parents were invited to the rec room starting at 4:00 to sit and be read to. The staff members usually took turns week to week. But should anyone not feel up to reading, Laura was always happy to jump in and take over. These were her most preferred moments spent at work. She considered this a true privilege, and really got into it. She wore her bedazzled cone-shaped princess hat—sometimes angel wings, depending on how whimsical she felt—and did her best to make the story come to glowing life. If it were up to her, she'd have light music playing in the background just to make it all even more vivid.
In the rec room, there was a pull-down screen behind the story chair. Most of what they read kids were picture books, so they scanned the pages into a computer beforehand, and displayed them on the screen so the kids could see the images and read along. Normally a fellow staff member took care of this, while the first read. Today was Laura's normal turn in the rotation—i.e., she didn't have to substitute for anyone. She donned her veiled princess cap, slipped on her wings and eyeglasses, and pranced into the rec room with AV associate Tabby Weeks, who'd be assisting her. They shut the door, and Laura raised her voice to normal volume.
"Hi, everybody!" she greeted with a curtsy. She held the book in one hand and gave a flourish with the other. The kids laughed at her funny outfit. Laura gave them a few twirls, letting them thoroughly enjoy, and perched in the story chair. These really were some of the moments she lived for. The others were impressed how gung-ho this activity kept her week after week, and certainly glad to have her around for it. Sometimes the big kids tried to make it tough for the readers by "heckling" them, or interrupting the story. But unless they were a
mazing
ly persistent, Laura didn't let them faze her. She just kept the story going, which was her job.
"Well, welcome, guys!" she called out. "How were your Halloweens? You all get lots of good stuff?"
Laura loved holidays. Whether asked to work or not, she made the most of each. On Valentine's Days she wore a heart-speckled sweater and brought her workmates—what else—valentines. On the days before Easter she put on a bunny face and handed out Cadbury Creme Eggs. On April Fool's Days, she left them alone. Practical jokes could be fun, but not so much in the workplace—particularly one of the
quiet
est workplaces in which she could earn a living. Then of course she bought cards for the Mothers and the Fathers on their Days.
On other holidays when less necessary to give something, she merely dressed in the appropriate colors. Yesterday she was off work. So on Saturday she was decked in orange and black. There was really no need to give her co-workers candy when they'd already bought bags full. But giving was all part of Laura McCollum's nature. She was a good Samaritan. She tried to help people, donate to charities and volunteer whenever possible. Cliché though it was, she once assisted an elderly individual across the street. And while on a different scale, she considered reading to children along the same lines. She held up today's book to show them.
"Exciting news," she announced. "We're starting a new series. This is Sammy the Squirrel. Today we'll be reading his first adventure, Sammy the Squirrel Goes to School." Tabby displayed the cover on the screen as well. "Now, I know some of you may have read this, or the other Sammy books before. So if you know what happens, please be respectful of the others in the room, and don't spoil the ending. And we'll all enjoy the story together. Okay! Ready??"
The audience replied affirmatively, so she and Tabby began. As she read, about thirty kids—probably not the thirty who came to her door last night, though who knew—and their parents sat or lay on blankets spread across the floor. Laura always put a lot of soul and emotion into the reading, while amusing herself on the inside with more realistic thoughts. Like the fact that if a squirrel popped up in a (human) school, there'd be a great deal of commotion. She looked up to visually address kids one by one as she went on. Sometimes she giggled through a funny sentence. Sometimes she had to pause for a big belly laugh, which made the audience laugh in turn.
Depending on the length of a book, things changed a little. If it took more than an hour, the crowd was normally given a short intermission to get up, stretch, go to the bathroom, what had they. The librarians did best to pace themselves, to bring story time to a good approximate hour, hour and a half, or longer. Each reader had her or his own style, and some liked to engage in a follow-up. Sometimes the kiddos shared what they liked about it, or there'd be a little Q and A. The most asked question, especially in series books, was "What happens next?" To which the librarians replied, "Well, if you wanna know right away, we can find you a copy of the next book, and you can check it out, literally and figuratively. You're also welcome to come back next week and see. Or both!"
Sammy the Squirrel Goes to School took roughly an hour. Had Laura read at a normal pace without any pauses, it would've been forty-five minutes. If chosen books in a series were particularly short—and they had the pages ready in the computer—sometimes they read two. But one Sammy book would suffice tonight. Kids eventually got restless, and Laura knew they were eager to get back home.
"...And as Sammy the Squirrel and his new friend Rory the Raccoon left to go home for the day, Sammy thought about all the wonderful and interesting things he'd learned at school. He could hardly wait for tomorrow to go back and learn even more."
Bit of an idealizing stretch, but okay
, Laura facetiously thought. Glorifying education was, after all, one of the things children's books were all about. "When his Mommy and Daddy asked him about his first day, Sammy had lots and lots to tell them. After supper that night, he lay in bed, excitedly waiting to fall asleep so he could begin his second day of school. The end."
The parents and a few of the kids applauded. Laura asked them what they thought of the story, kicking off their post-reading discussion.
"Do you guys like school?" she asked.
"I hate homework!" someone exclaimed.
