After Hours

“Dang it”, I muttered under my breath.

I looked down to find it under my miscellaneous clutter overflowing on my desk. I had forgotten to return my library book. There it was, in my mess of missing homework assignments and textbooks that still had the plastic covering on them. This was not the first time. I’m a forgetful person. I can't help it, even if my mom thinks I can. It’s impossible, dare I say, part of my nature, but she doesn’t care. If my mom found out again that another one of my books was overdue, I would be grounded for a week. That’s the last thing I need. It was due by five o’clock, it was four forty eight. I could make it. I could totally make it. I would be home before the streetlights came on at five. I leaped out of the desk chair, threw on my hoodie and my backpack, and tossed in the book. Running into the garage, I catapulted myself out of the door and onto my bike. The Meiflower Town Library was only two streets away. My legs pounded on the pedals, I had to sprint in PE class today; truthfully, I’m not the most athletic kid. I’m more into writing. Actually, short stories, not a novel, yet. 

Panting, I continued my daily set of positive affirmatives, my school guidance counselor makes me do. Something about “decreasing my negative perspective” or whatever. It doesn’t do much for me.

I flung myself past Fifth Avenue and onto June Boulevard. I was so close. The yellow and blue roofed building came into view. I relaxed at the sight. 

“Oh no! No!” The street lights began turning on, “I wouldn’t make it.” No I thought, not again and gave one last push towards the building.

Mrs. Rowan, the thin silver haired librarian lady, locked up the library. I pleaded with her to let me back inside. I promised that this would never happen again. I’m pretty good at lying, especially to an easy target. She checked my book back in and gave me five minutes to browse the shelves, to look for a new one. She waited outside, looking for the stray cats; there weren't any. Regardless, she still looked for them, day in and day out. It kind of made me pity her. She was always sweet to me.

“I have to feed my cats some yum yums dear, please hurry.” she said in her usual airy, carefree tone. I don't think anything ever bothered her, maybe she was too out of it to notice.

“Yeah yeah.” I said, not bothered a bit. She didn’t own any cats. You see, my town isn’t the fanciest, so the librarians are volunteers. Mrs. Rowan volunteers out of the kindness of her crazy heart. Did you get some of that sarcasm? Well, now you do. Be sure to keep a lookout for that. 

I passed the science fiction section, and made my way towards the back of the library, where the fantasy section hid; it’s my favorite genre. I passed shelves upon shelves with books: history, fiction, mystery, self-help (like I need that), horror, romance (no thanks), and so on. I even passed the CDs. I thought about taking a look, but didn’t want to waste Mrs. Rowan’s time. She might be wacko, but I do respect her-in a weird way.

I walked near the children’s section, where a colossal paper tree, made of colored paper, rose through the center of the library. It could be seen from almost every angle. Makes sense, since it is the centerpiece of the spiral staircase. The second floor wasn't really anything, probably just extra study rooms. I would never know; I've never been up there to study. Spending my time memorizing facts, what a grueling task. No thank you.

I much rather spend my time doing anything else. Actually, no. I don’t enjoy most activities that my peers find entertaining. The reason, I will never know. In my room, the desk represents my creative spot, where all of my-dare I say- feelings come out. That sounded pathetic, but yeah. It’s what I truly relish. Oooh look at me, and my high vocabulary. I know some ‘fancy words”: aberration, abhor, acquiesce, alacrity, arcane, avarice, and...ummm… thats about it. There are only words that start with A because that's how far I got in the dictionary before I got bored. 

It's a real problem of mine-boredom. My mind wanders too quickly, it's gotten me in trouble quite a few times. Mr. Asim, my freshman english teacher, prided himself on the knowledge of his students; you can guess that I wasn't his favorite. He would start talking about “classical literature”, a big topic in class you see, and I wouldn’t be “paying attention”, according to him. Paying attention is important and I focused on it greatly; however, not on the topics he wanted. I went from ogres getting their suits tailored, to wizards explaining their magic to some goblins who didn't even speak the language. Or what about wizards trying to get a haircut, without tripping over their beards. That sort of stuff cracks me up. You see, Mr. Asim perceives life literally. I...well I simply do not. He never liked me from the start of freshman year until the end. He never did, and he thought I was joking the entire school year. Calling me a clown, who does he think he is, just a teacher. They always think they are better than kids because they have a title and a nameplate. 

Anyway, I’m off track, again. As I got to the fantasy isle, I perused and found a book about some made up goblin history. That sounded cool, so I took the book and began walking back to the front, to the librarian’s desk. I couldn't make it though; I saw a peach colored tail come out from one of the paper branches of the tree. That’s strange. It might be a rat, I wouldn't doubt that. That rhymed, I am a storyteller. At least I hope.

Back on track, I swear I saw something, the tree rustled like they do in the wind, but I was inside. Possibly the air conditioning; however, unlikely. I set down my backpack and book to investigate. The tree continued to rustle rapidly, there was surely something in there, I had no doubt about that anymore. 

I approached the tree and after being completely under it for a minute, the shaking ceased. A moment later, a small orange tabby cat emerged. What? A cat in the library? Maybe Mrs. Rowan’s craziness infected me, I dunno, but what a theory. 

“Come here child.” It said, but the mouth of the cat never moved. I guess it saw the panic in my eyes and replied, “Do not worry Tony. I am here to help.” 

It knew my name, how? Not being used to cats telepathically speaking to me, I, understandably freaked out. It knew me! I sprinted to one of the bookshelves, science fiction, and scrambled to get to the top. Two tail swishes later, the cat appeared next to me. Probably not a good idea going somewhere up, knowing cats can climb. In all due respect, I was alarmed and who can blame me. You can't judge.

The tangerine cat began explaining how she, The Guardian of The Library, attracted souls in need of advice. I know. I sound like Mrs. Rowan, but I promised I'm not insane. That is something she would say-but that means nothing. 

Anyway, this is like my third anyway, but this cat was explaining how she had been there since the beginning, not the beginning of the library, in the beginning of humanity’s literary advancements. I know right, this is an old cat. She senses the emotions of all those who enter all the libraries-all the libraries in the world. Those who she trusts, she appears to, to give advice. I guess I gave the lost soul energy out.

She told me-well she never really spoke after the initial introduction. It’s abnormal, but she just kept me company on top of the bookshelf; I’ve never really experienced true, quiet company with someone. I thought about some problems I’ve been having, and she listened. That’s all I needed. Then, I read my goblin book while she purred in my lap; I was stuck in the library anyway. My mom wouldn’t notice; she always left for work early and came home late. I barely see her anymore. My parents are divorced; my dad with his new wife, so...yeah. I know for a fact that they still love each other. That got too personal, moving on.

After a while, I came down from the bookshelf, I read ten o’clock on the colossal clock on the wall. I would be here for a while. I guess Mrs. Rowan got distracted and left. Maybe she caught sight of a cat. I crawled under one of the study tables, used my backpack as a pillow, and ventured to sleep, the cat’s purr lulling me back to sleep. 

I awoke to the sound of keys jingling and the heavy library door slamming shut. I got up, forgetting I was under the table and thumped my head. The cat disappeared; I never got to ask her anything

“Is anyone here?” It was Mrs. Rowan.

“Yeah, It’s me.” I stumbled up, my backpack in hand.

“Oh Tony, have you been here all night?”

“Yeah, but no worries.” My eyes searched to find the familiar tangerine tail, sticking out from somewhere.

“Let me call your mother.”

“No! I mean that’s not necessary, I’ll head straight home now.” I thanked her, I don't know why, it's just polite and left, still no sign of my feline friend. Maybe Mrs. Rowan isn’t crazy. Or maybe the hours of solitude in the library messed with my head. I guess I’ll never know for sure. 

My bike was still outside, so I biked home but the trip this time seemed different. People were waving to me, no one does that, and the trash that used to be on the side of the road, simply vanished. The weirdest thing, when I got home, my parents were there, both of them. They were laughing and enjoying themselves. I asked them what they were doing together and they responded that married couples spend time together. Married? Couples? What? They were together? How long had I been trapped in that library? No, only a night.

“Aren’t you guys divorced? I’m confused.”

“Divorced? Sweetie, no. We are nineteen years strong.” My mother replied. She looked happier than I have seen her in a while.

“Maybe it's in your other world. You know, in your short stories. How are they going by the way?” My dad never knew I wrote stories. I never told him; he was always focused on his other wife.

“Ummm… they are good.”

“Great, I bet your mother and I would love to read them some time. If you wanted us to, of course.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I would love that, actually.” 

“Perfect, let’s have breakfast, and after we can read some. How was your morning bike ride?”

“Great, thanks.” My mind was somewhere else. We were going to have a meal together, as a family.

“Go get cleaned up.” My mom said kindly, a smile shown on her face.

I raced to my room to drop off my backpack, when I realized I had forgotten my goblin book in the library.

“I’ll just go tomorrow.” I turned to throw my backpack on my bed when I saw it. My goblin book. I definitely did not bring it here. Opening to the first page, a little tuft of orange fur floated down onto my blanket.

“Thanks, Guardian Cat, I guess.” I swear I heard a meow in reply outside my window, or in my head.