Too Hot to Handle

Too Hot to Handle

She read the instructions over and over again, word for word to make sure she didn't miss anything. It explained where to find the book and it must be in her possession before five pm. It should be found at the Historical library, or the game would self-destruct. Once the game self-destructs, that would be the end, with no hope of ever discovering the fortune. Well, she wasn't going to let that happen. Unfortunately, the Historical Library was on the south side of town, and she was on the east side of town. It would take her at least an hour to get there, even without traffic, and it was a Friday. And it was Friday rush hour. Many people would be leaving the city for the country and the suburbs for the weekend. It was already four o’clock. Also, unfortunately, the meeting dragged on and on. It was supposed to have lasted a half hour, and it’s been an hour and a half already. She despised her co-workers who tried to impress the boss with empty words and ideas. She tapped her pen on her notepad, because she was annoyed with the lot of them. Meancing looks from her co-workers, made her stop. All she heard was blah, blah, blah! Her boss caught her glancing at the clock again and gave her that look of disapproval he used to intimidate. She shrugged her shoulders and gave him an apologetic look, but she didn't feel apologetic. Finally, it was over. Grabbing her stuff and nearly knocking a co-worker down, she bolted out the door, not bothering to look back, she loudly feigned apologies. Again for the second time today, she didn't feel apologetic at all, after all, it was probably his or her fault.

She ran to her car and headed towards the south side of town to the library. Feeling pretty optimistic that she would make it before five, she started the car, her old car lurched, then stalled. She turned the key again, to her delight it sprang to life and tottered forward. Flooring the gas pedal, she ran smack-dabbed into slow-moving traffic.

“This is unbelievable!” A low-grade headache began to develop in the back of her head, making her feel miserable.

“God, please help me get there on time!” she whispered to herself. Then suddenly, as if he heard, the traffic moved forward at a steady speed, and the old car happily moved into the rhythm of the traffic. She briefly glanced up and said a silent prayer of thank you! The digital clock on the dashboard read four twenty. She could hardly concentrate on the traffic, she was so nervous. Ten minutes later, she pulled up in front of the library and ran inside the monumental Historical Library.

Wasting no time, she breathlessly ran up to the librarian’s desk. Behind the large, cluttered desk, there was an elderly woman. She couldn't be sure, but it looked like this woman was levitating. This woman was a pale, thin woman with sharp features. Her thinning white hair was piled high on her head.

“Please, ma’am, can you tell me where I can find the book, “Too Hot to Handle” by Sharem

Sanel?” The old woman, with her glasses perched on the end of her nose, slowly craned her neck to the side and looked up.

“Who? Speak up, young lady!” she croaked in a stern kind of scratchy voice.

“Too Hot to Handle!” She spoke louder so the old woman, who was obliviously hard of hearing, could hear her.

“Never heard of it,” and dismissively waved her hand to prove her point. The massive, but beautiful old clock on the opposite wall read four forty.

“Can you please consult your computer? I desperately need to get the book before five pm, and...The old woman put her hand up to interrupt her and said,

“I Don’t use a computer. I have my own system and a one of a kind photogenic memory.” The woman positioned herself proudly, pushing her glasses further up on her nose, explaining how she had no need for modern computers for over thirty years now. Without waiting for the old witch to finish, she ran to one of the computers and typed in the book’s title. After several disappointing failed attempts, she hit pay dirt and copied the call number and location down. Running as fast as her legs would allow back to the librarian for help. Putting on the brakes as she reached the desk because the old woman wasn’t there and neither was anyone else in the dark library. Glancing up at the clock, it appeared to be scowling at her but now read four-fifty. Panicking she ran up and down the isles of the library, looking for the book "Too Hot to Handle"

In her rage at the woman and trying to find the book, she noticed a door at the back of the library. Panicking, she ran toward it at break-fast speed and struggled to push the heavy door open. In the middle of the room, in a glass case, was the book “Too Hot to Handle!”

With no time to waste, she found a heavy vase and raised it above her head to crack open the case. Just as she did, out of nowhere, the witch appeared.

“Stop, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into if you take that book!” she screamed and rushed at her.

“I must. If I don’t, I will never find it!” They tussled back and forth with the vase. But with her strength and the witch's weakness, she was able to get free and hit the witch over the head and kill her. With one blow to the glass, it broke. The deafening sounds of alarms rang out, but she didn't wait, nor could she wait for anyone to come. she grabbed the book and ran out the door. The clock behind the desk struck five times, for five pm.

Later that evening, in her small apartment, she opened the book and found the instructions for the next round of the game.