Piled up the desk

Piled up the desk…

Ulla, Maria and Sune – well! They were at work and did the job the way to be expected. At Vaxjo city library, you know.That is, they served as they smiled. But wait two seconds! Weren´t they correct in the correct way, just to be expected in a town like mine. No, they were nice and all that, but see...They had no small talk. And most of the time they were standing behind the desk. Did a minimum to give hints about books. They thought that the visitors knew better what books to find. Or this is how it seemed to me from my horizon when I came to the big library down-town. But there was a smaller library off the big road. I guess just blowing away your mouth because of chatting in itself, it could be a gift from the gods. But Ulla, Maria and Sune had no way to chat away an hour or two. First of all: there was no time! And second: they followed an unwritten rule that said they ought to behave proper. In accordance with what the public of the community wanted. So this other place, with furniture, tables, carpets of an Oriental touch. A designed room on top of a meeting place for people from all around the world. An international place and another atmosphere to that house. At Araby.

But Carline? Not so common. She was a gift from the chatting god. Worked at Araby library. And odd it was, as she was about as un-Swedish as a girl could be, and she had always been that way. Un-Swedish. Talking wildly with hands, gestures, eyes rolling, mouth smiling, laughing out loud, having a comment for everyone passing by, made them stop for a while, sitting down, retelling problems, gossiping away their entire life, well at least half of it. About our men, the drinking, friends we knew, what happend in Copenhagen,stupidity, his or her and them and that, from Copenhagen to Kiruna one way and the other.

Many a times people came by for a coffee instead of borrowing books. And you got it! Carline loved both music, theater, books and all about everything when it came to culture. Her kids business was issues and their studies and one of her children had got a work in the Swedish parliament. Guess that child had a talent for being her own, it suited her you see. And the government had her for issues now, a network of the entire cultural sphere. Those gossip hours was a free zone to me, well for all the visitors. Just that many a books were not borrowed for being in their own right. As Carline had piled up her recommendation when I popped by every Wedsneday...Piled up books I had no clue about. Carline thought I could study health, cooking, feelgood and crime novels. I asked her why on earth I should read a crime novel. She had the odd answer: ”You told me you should write about a librarian!” She smiled. Oh well, I see….well I guess, perhaps….

I looked at the heap of books. A whole mountain of cooking, health and fitness and feelgood. Well eh, I suppose, it´s okey, but….She smiled. How about it? This is what people want. Yeah, it is. Feelgood about it?

I thought it over two minutes, or three. How on earth could I really make up a story, from where? When I had no clue about fitness or cooking, less did I know about crime novels. Less even so I had not a single idea of how to weave a story about a gossip lady who served….what people want? Ur? Is this my story then?

I felt her getting into my space, yet she did it with a jolly way, as usual. She did not excactly force me to write, far from it. She sort of perhaps felt like becoming part of a novel. Swell! Great! I got it! And me and my old style and way to scribble down things…

Just today, Thursday I came by the library. It is situated here at Araby, a sort of suburb of Vaxjo. People passing by, learning to speak Swedish as immigrants, having book circles, talking, bringing their kids, sitting down in soft armchairs, and a cosy place it is. Not like a place the politicans decided about. More of a cosy, home-like place, and Carline have been working herself into it. And you should see her all together different clothes. Probably she told me where she bought them. Handsome jackets, coloured hippie-like pants, neat shoes, no high-heels, a girl, a madam, a lady, a mother, wife...and she slip in all her roles in one and all, sparing no secret of her manner, like it serves us all, both sick, disabled and Rainbow people and---well all of us.

Today I went by, found the heap of books. ”For you...could be a great time to read them, forgetting about the lady who took you to the coffe-house…!” She smiled and made the eye to me. The lady at the coffe-house? Oh I see. A gossip that is. And anyway, the lady in question is not gonna read this text. She is part of the waste of time. Between me and you. Secret! Promise! You do have to come by Vaxjo to figure it out! At the library of Araby suburb…

The lady in question takes me by car from place to place, as she is my personal driver. Gotta go to the coffe-house, but always afterwards to the Araby library.

Back home, the lady drove me, I went inside and opened the bag with lots of books. Under the big heap there was a book called ”Psychology concerning gossip as literature.”

I went to the bed. Usually read in bed. I got it in an instant. It is a great moment for us when we share stories with each other. Gossip is now labelled under literature, as it give us relaxation and a short-cut way to release our inner burden. The psychology of gossip help us tie the social glue between us together.

Well. The lady in question does not say very much about that book. But Carline did...