Not Wrong

My eyes open slowly, the scent of old musty books and hot coffee beckoning me awake.  I sit there, confused, as a tall stack of encyclopedias comes into focus.  It takes me another second to realize that the crinkled page under my cheek is not my pillow.  I lift myself up from the old oak table, rubbing my sore cheek. Pushing my long red hair out of my face, I glance around the large room, now remembering where I am.  Tall windows let in the early morning sunlight, bouncing warm shadows on the cold book shelves that line the walls. I look over the rows upon rows of books, listening for any other potential patrons who had also misused the Universities’ library hours. To my dismay, the building was as quiet as a grave. I pull my coat over my shoulder, suddenly feeling the morning chill. I reach over the desk and turn the antique lamp off, its bulb hot from the long burning hours.  Gradually I lift myself from the uncomfortable wooden chair, feeling every stiff muscle I have complain against the sudden movement.  I pull my coat even closer, walking over to one of the large windows and peering out.  Despite the warm sunlight, a fresh powder of snow had fallen to the ground in the night.  My breath starts to fog up the window.  “Not again.” I muttered in irritation.  

“Those should be my words.” A voice came from behind me.  I turned, knowing already who I was about to face.  “Mrs. Jenkins.”  I say, as sweetly as the morning allowed.  

The tall old woman had her hands on her waist.  A dust colored pencil skirt reached her knees and a black turtleneck fell over her once curvy torso.  Her curly black peppered hair fell, what looked like, naturally to her shoulders, but from the overpowering smell of hairspray I knew it wasn’t as natural as it looked. 

“Danica, how many times has it been now?  I should start charging you rent.”  She shook her head, turning back towards the front of the building.  

“Is that coffee I smell?” I called after her. The older woman grumbled something under her breath and motioned for me to follow her.  A smile comes to my lips and I jog over to her, coming to her side.  We walk through a hallway and into a nice little lounge room, strictly made for the employees… and occasionally me.  Old red bricks lined the walls and a small window up near the ceiling.  Antique furniture sat here and there, though they didn’t get much use.  What was worn was the coffee pot and small refrigerator. 

The room was absolutely wonderful, with warmth and the smell of marvelous dark roast. 

Jenkins opened a cupboard and rummaged for two mugs.  She handed me a worn one that had a kitten on it, while she happily chose the one that said “World’s best Dad”.  Jenkins was a hard-core thrifter.  Any deal she could find she would be sure to make, and cheap mugs were no exception.  She poured herself a cup and let a splash of cream fall into it, then made room for me to pour myself my own.  Once we were satisfied with our brews she led me back out into the sunlight and we sat back down at my desk full of encyclopedias.  

“I’m going to have to have a word with the security team.”  Jenkins said, stirring her cup.  

“Oh, it’s not their fault, I promise. Everyone claims I’m a ghost, so they probably don’t see me snoozing away.”  I say, sipping my cup. 

“Ha! A ghost my ass.  You’re practically a firecracker with that red hair of yours.” 

Her words weren’t intended to hurt, but a pang of irritation hit my chest.  Quickly I decided to change the subject.  I grabbed the wrinkled papers that had earlier substituted as my pillow.  “I think I may have found something.”  

Jenkins rolled her eyes.  “I’m sure you have.”  She scoffs.  

“No really, this time I’m sure of it!”  I shuffle through the papers.  I pull a book out from the bottom of a stack, causing books to tumble all over.  Quickly I hand it to her.  She cocks an eyebrow at me after she reads the title.  “The Shadow of Reality...? Really?”  

I ignore her tone, handing her a piece of paper full of equations and numbers that I know she wont understand, but I finally have an audience that isn’t just a pile of books and I won't lose it. She takes it from me, smiling and shaking her head.  

“There’s a scientist,” I say, “Dr. Ranga-Ram Chary-”

Jenkins snorts through her nose. “Ranga-Ram?”  She shakes her head, causing me to wonder if that’s all she knows how to do.  

“Really!” I insist.  “Dr. Chary has evidence, EVIDENCE, that our universe is bumping into another parallel universe.  It says right here-.”  

Jenkins holds up her hand, stopping me.  She takes a deep breath and lets it out, rather dramatically, then hands me back the scribbles I had made.  

“You have such a brilliant mind, Danica.”  She says, I open my mouth to protest but she gives me a look that causes me to clamp it back shut.  

“All these hours in this building-, I’m sure that if you tried to cure cancer you would have done it years ago.” She stands, still clutching to her half full cup of coffee.  “I have to start getting ready to open.” She looks down at me, a small smile on her lips.  I look back down at my page, feeling my cheeks get hot, I try not to crinkle the paper even more.  

“Thank you for the coffee.” I say, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

“Make sure to wash your cup when you are done.” She walks away, leaving me in my messy enlightenment. 

I look over the mathematical equations, feeling as though they are mocking me as well. 

Suddenly I stand, my chair slamming to the ground behind me and papers flying everywhere.  “I know I’m right!” I gasp.  My cheeks grow even hotter, this time from embarrassment.  I look around, glad that Jenkins is nowhere in sight.  Slowly I bend down and pick up the papers, shuffling them together.  “I know I’m right.”  I mutter again.  

But what does it matter?  Even if I’m right, what good would it do? Would it even help the world?  In a way Jenkins is right.  Maybe I’m wasting my talents on fantastical ideas.  I let out a sigh.

But it would be the truth right?  And that’s what scientists are, discoverers of truth.  

I look up and out of the window, where the blue sky is.  

I just want to know the truth.  

Grabbing my bag I shove all my research into it and down the coffee in one big gulp. I stalk back into the lounge room and rinse out my mug, setting it on a paper towel to dry.  Afterwards I head for the back door, since Jenkins wouldn’t unlock the front for another hour.  “See you next time, Mrs. Jenkins.”  I call loudly throughout the library.  I don’t wait for a response and dip out into the sunlight. 

My boots hit the cement and I find out quickly that it’s slick with ice.  Deciding to take a safer route, I take a detour on the grass, leaving white tracks as I go.  

I head back towards the dorms, wondering if my roommate noticed my disappearance.  As I walked past the man made lake a strange gleam caught my eye.  I look over at the pond, the sunlight nearly blinding me as it bounced off the water and snow.  I shaded my eyes, catching sight of a silhouette. There, not twenty feet from me, stood a very tall man.  

My eyes widened as I got a good look at him.  Hair as long as mine, but nearly white as the snow.  He was so tall and thin it seemed as though he had been taken and stretched like rubber.  And his clothes were the strangest part about him, completely white and made out of a fabric I’d never seen before.  

I met his eyes, which I suddenly realized were watching mine.  He had the most serious look I’d ever seen. 

My face flushed and I quickly looked back towards the dorms.  Despite my efforts, I couldn’t get my legs to move.  

“Danny.”  He said.  

I nearly jumped at the sound of my nickname.  A name only my friends back home knew.  My head whipped around, hair flying with it.  The man stood completely still, as though he were a statue.  I looked him up and down again, almost wondering if I imagined my name being called.  But then he spoke again.  

“You aren’t wrong, Danny.”  He said.  

My mouth fell open.  

“You aren’t wrong.”