Silent Library

“Be quiet.” The voice came from somewhere nearby, but they weren’t entirely sure where to place it. What they were sure of was that it would be over soon. 

“Shhh, Sh,” Kaz’s own giggling saw him projecting his shushing onto Yo-Yo, the two bundled in the floor at the end of the aisle they thought would be least-used. Heavy encyclopedias and analyses of religious texts surrounded them, wafting the scent of dust and boredom. Between them lie cards, which Kaz was using two hands to slide around by lazy means of shuffling.

With a finger over his lips, he pushed three fingers into Yo-Yo’s face, two, one.

They silently flipped the cards. Yo-Yo’s was safe. Kaz’s showed the words, scribbled by Yo-Yo previously, “HOT TOWEL”.

Kaz gave a dismal but silent wave of his arms while Yo-Yo prepared his punishment. He pulled a clean, white cloth from his book bag as well as a thermos, carefully sliding it open, not wanting a continued enough disruption to warrant any extra attention. The game would be over too soon.

Yo-Yo poured the steaming water over the towel, spilling some into the carpet that might have morphed into rubber under the decades of grime. Even steaming hot, the water puddled on the surface instead of absorbing.

“Ready?” Yo-Yo whispered, jumping at the change to rear back and poise himself for the biggest slap.

Kaz plugged his nose with his thumb and index finger, covering his mouth with his palm in an attempt to keep quiet.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Yo-Yo insisted in a hushed insistence.

“It’s not cheating, that’s how you play the game!”

Yo-Yo huffed and reared back again, swiftly swinging his wrist forward and slapping Kaz across the face with the hot towel. It made a loud swatting noise while Kaz strained into his hand, his face turning red as droplets beaded and ran down one cheek. Water had splattered onto the books behind him.

Yo-Yo chuckled, satisfied despite his perceived injustice. Quietly, of course.

The two of them peeked around the edge of their respective covers of the bookshelves.

Kaz shuffled halfheartedly with a single hand this time, the other holding his stinging cheek. Again, he pushed the cards around between them. Three, two, one, a silent signal and they flipped cards again. This time, the threatening black marker scribbles over a normal playing card read the damning, “WASABI NOSE”.

Yo-Yo ran his hands through his blonde, spiky hair which barely still stood. “Fuck,” he sighed quietly as Kaz produced not one, but two tubes of wasabi paste from his own bag of tricks, and Yo-Yo found the sadist between the two of them. No one ever feared the swollen shaft of a brand new foil tube so much as Yo-Yo in that moment, he was sure.

He pinched his nose, covered his mouth.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” Kaz nudged him, unscrewing the caps methodically.

“You said that’s how you play!”

“Not when it’s wasabi nose.” Kaz seemed satisfied in his answer, even smug.

Jutting one tube into one nostril, Yo-Yo’s eyes were already watering, and the other wasn’t much better. He inadvertently wailed, and the moment Kaz squeezed, it echoed into a strained grunt that he tried to subdue while choking on wasabi that had made its way into his sinuses and throat and seemingly every little spongy hole of the inside of his head. He wretched and pulled away, using both hands to milk his face free from the hellish green slime.

Like emerging snakes ready to strike or perhaps swallow them whole came the start of quieting hisses. These rattling snakes must have been studying god knows where in the labyrinth of a library.

They peeked behind their respective corners once more, Kaz’s hand grasping onto the grey-brown steel of the beaten shelf as if poised to run.

“Dude, you’re gonna lose,” he whispered through a snicker. Yo-Yo was busy trying to gasp for breaths that didn’t burn.

Once in the clear, twice more they tried, both safe.

Then, one more flip and Yo-Yo again turned a dreaded punishment card. This time, it read only, “DAMNATION”.

“What’s that?” he whispered, wide-eyed.

Kaz silently pulled a folded handkerchief from his bag, unfurling it to expose a stack of thin, yellow paper squares. He produced a lighter from his pocket, held one of the squares before him, and lit it aflame, causing it to disintegrate in a single burst.

“Bellybutton or ass crack,” Kaz grinned.

Yo-Yo tilted his head in thought. It was only a brief moment before he decided: “Bellybutton.”

Like a champion, nostrils still stinging, he laid back on his back, resting his head on the tacky once-carpet and lifting his shirt. Kaz stuffed one of the flammable papers into his navel and lit it.

Yo-Yo gave up on the game in his shock. He kicked and swatted at his stomach, squalling in repeated bursts as his legs tried to flee in his reclined position.

“There you are!”

The librarian stood at the far end of the aisle, stomping forward towards them in their mess of water, wasabi, and ash. Her ample frame swayed as she waddled along angrily. “You two! You’re banned!”

She ended up being the loudest of them all as Kaz and Yo-Yo fled the scene, surely never to return. They scooped up their bags and ran, leaving only small puddles and a single tube of wasabi with the imprint of Kaz’s fist still molded in its foil.

“I win!” Kaz cheered as they burst through the doors. He spent only a second to raise a hand in the air and jump up high.

The boys ran and ran, carefree and high on their gamble, afraid of the consequence of authority alone, but knowing that ultimately, the poor librarian could do nothing to them.

They looked back on those school days fondly, when they could blame their recklessness on youth. After so many years together, it only made sense that they were still standing, still getting their kicks together, but now with the added bonus of building something greater. At least, when they weren’t getting caught.

“Do you think that’s what started it all?” Kaz asked Yo-Yo, resting his head against the concrete wall behind them, shifting his hands to alleviate the discomfort of the handcuffs.

“Probably.”