Library Monster

4/27/21

Millie Rader

millierader@yahoo.com

Reedsy Prompts “Set in the Library after hours”

Library Monster

  Annie had been driving since sunup and though it was only the middle of the day, she realized that  she wasn’t going to make her destination before dark. Her article was due tomorrow and she had yet to even start the rough draft. She knew that she would have to find a library soon.

  Swinging into a truck stop, she hopped out to fuel her van, and the Arizona heat hit her like a blowtorch. While the pump was running, she jumped back in and rolled her windows down to try and catch any breeze that might happen by. Then she checked her maps. She was a bit old fashioned when it came to navigation, preferring to see the whole picture instead of what little bit her phone screen could reveal.

  “Yes!” she said startling the guy gassing up on the other side of the pump. “Sorry,” she said with a grin, then glanced back down at her map’s mileage ruler. The little town of Safford was only 40 miles away. Now, she needed her phone, and she typed in Safford Library. The Graham County website popped up telling her that the library was open until 7 pm. That should give her enough time for a rough draft at least.

  An hour later she pulled into the little library parking lot. She looked at the time on her phone as she grabbed her computer bag and headed in. It was only 1:30, and still blistering hot. She hopped back in grabbing her long sleeve shirt, knowing that the AC was probably blasting in there. She smiled knowing that she would have this thing drafted within the hour.

  The building was bigger than it had first appeared. Just past the front desk there were of course stacks of books, but also tables with study lamps and outlets, and she noted a nice sitting area near the back with several couches and chairs.

  Cozy, she thought, pulling up a chair at one of the study tables. She pulled out her notes and got to work.

  An hour and a half later she finished her first draft, but realized she was missing some information. She sent a text off to the subject of her interview, and now she had to wait. She needed Wi-Fi to send her story in once it was complete. She sat back stretching her neck, then looked again at the time on her phone. She knew it was still  hot outside and she really didn’t want to wait out there for the response. She looked around as she packed her laptop into its bag, it was a typical weekday in a small-town library, with not many folks around. Picking up the bag she carried it to the back where she was tempted to lay down on the cushy couch.

 No, that would be poor library etiquette, she thought. Then she noticed  that the curved back of the couch left a nice niche between it and the wall.

  “Don’t do it!” said her left brain.

  “But I’m so tired!” her right brain whined.

  Her right brain won out, and glancing quickly around, she took off her long sleeve shirt, dropped to her knees, and pushing her bag and shirt ahead of her, she squeezed into the dark welcoming den.           Sometimes being small was an advantage. The wall was on the west side of the building soaking up the sun’s rays, and with the couch blocking the frigid blast of the AC, made it perfect for a snooze. She balled up her shirt and tucked it under her head. Looking at the time again, she knew that even though she was very tired, her naps were predictable. She always napped for exactly an hour and half. She calculated in her head that she would be awake by 3:00, plenty of time to finish her story and then send it off to her editor. She closed her eyes and felt her body relax. She had hit the road at 4 am and it caught up with her. If it all went well, she would send her story off before dark, and then drive a few more hours, hopefully arriving home by midafternoon tomorrow.

  When she finally opened her eyes, she was in desperate need of the restroom. But something was different, it was quiet. There had been background music playing when she went to sleep, but not now. She listened a minute more and then cautiously she backed out of her hiding place. It was dark, except for the canister lights against the far wall. She looked up toward the front desk and it was dark. She pulled her phone out of her computer bag. It was dead.

  “That’s weird,” she thought. Then she saw the big clock on the far wall.

  “No!” she exclaimed grabbing her mouth as she remembered she was in a library. It said 9:00. Had she really slept 8 hours? She had been going full steam for three days, but didn’t realize she was that tired.

  “I hope the bathrooms are still open,” she whispered to herself, hurrying toward the doors near the front.  As she neared the front desk, she could see through the glass entry doors, it was dark outside.

She reached the ladies room and pushed on the door with a bang.

  “Dang, locked!” She crossed her legs and thinking she would have to pee outside she hobbled slowly toward the exit, but stopped just short of pushing the door open when in the dim light she saw the small keypad on the wall, its flashing red letters said, “Alarm Set.”

   “Oh, no! I’m locked in!” She looked frantically around, not only feeling trapped, but about to wet her pants. She ran toward the front desk and after digging through a few drawers noticed a key hanging on the wall. The key was attached to a large piece of wood. She grabbed it and rushed toward the lady’s room door.

  “Oh, good,” she sighed as the lock turned easily and she pushed past the door and into the nearest stall.

  Washing her hands she looked into the mirror.

  “What have you got yourself into this time, Annie?” she asked her reflection.

   Her dad would have had a good laugh over this one. Most of the time he had called her Adventure Annie, but there were times when he called her Impetuous Annie. She didn’t have much in the way of patience and it had gotten into more than a few scrapes. 

  “Your epitaph will read ‘She meant well,” he had said many times, sure that her escapades would bring her to an early end.

  Hearing a rumble, she realized that she had not eaten in a very long time.

  Exiting the restroom, she stopped to take her bearings. The front desk was to her left and she walked behind it once again to hang the key back up. Seeing a door to her right, she peeked in and saw a small, dimly lit employee lounge. She ventured in, and yes, there was a small fridge at the back next to a counter with a microwave and coffee pot. She pulled open the fridge door and found sparse pickings. Among the salad dressings and salsa was an overripe banana that held no appeal, but on the bottom shelf there was an apple and a small container of strawberry  yogurt. She pulled those out and set them on the counter, then opened the freezer door, jackpot! It was loaded with Lean Cuisine microwave dinners. She sorted through and found a chicken chow mien that looked halfway appetizing. She preferred her food fresh, but right now her stomach was willing to eat most anything. She read the instructions and then popped it into the microwave.

  Three minutes is a long time when you’re hungry. She pulled it out before the buzzer went off and had just set it on the counter when she heard a crash behind her. She spun and then went into a crouch. “What the…” she said louder than intended.

  She heard nothing except her heart pounding in her ears. She stood slowly and could see nothing out of place. She waited another minute and then gathered her meager dinner up and placed it on the table in the middle of the room. She went back and found a fairly clean coffee cup which she filled with water from the sink. As she was about to sit down something raked against her ankle.

  She threw the cup in the air, water hitting the ceiling, and shouted “Oh, Jesus help me!” as she jumped up into the chair, the cup then bouncing twice on the carpet.

  She looked up from the cup just in time to see an orange flash disappear out the door.

  “What, was that?” she whispered.

  She waited a minute and then slowly climbed down from her perch and walked even slower toward the door, but before she reached it, she heard a low growl. She rushed forward and slammed the door then locked it in one fell swoop! She leaned against it, heart pumping. Then a faint scratching began. Before she could think, she was on the other side of the table, on her knees peering toward the door. She stayed there until her heart finally resumed beating.

  “Not only have you gotten yourself locked into a library, you’re locked in with a monster,” accused her left brain.

   That side of her brain was so anal and annoying, and so enjoyed sharing its two-cents-worth at times like this.

  “Hush!” she said out-loud. “If it’s a monster, it’s a very small one.”

  Then the other side of her brain kicked in.

  “Yeah, it’s only an ankle biter!” She smiled.

  “And besides,” she said out-loud. “It obviously can’t get through a locked door.”

  She heard another scratch, and her heart lurched again.

  “Stop it!” she said as loud as she dared in a library.

  “You don’t scare me.” She hoped it could not hear the beat of her heart.

  Then she heard another growl. After another brief start, she realized it was her stomach and her food was getting cold. She picked up her cup and after filling it once again, she sat down to what seemed like a feast now after that spike of adrenaline.

  She ate the chow mien first, then the yogurt and after demolishing the apple, she walked to the sink to wash the sticky off her fingers. Turning from the sink to the paper towel dispenser she kicked something and water went flying.

  “Shoot!” she said out loud again, and looking down she saw the water dish that she had kicked over.

  “What a mess!” said her right brain again.

  “Rats!” she said. Pumping the paper dispenser, she gathered a handful of paper towel and mopped up the mess. She then refilled the bowl and set it back down next to another empty bowl.

  “Wait, why are these bowls on the floor?” Her right brain wondered.

  “Maybe, there’s a cat,” her left brain said, with sarcasm.

  “A cat!” she said too loud again, grabbing her mouth.

  “Maybe your monster is a cat!” said her brain again.

  “Oh, my gosh!” she whispered circling the table twice before stopping before the door.

  “Kitty, kitty?” she said in a low voice. “Is that you, kitty?”

  A scratch came in reply.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Another scratch.

  Slowly she unlocked the door and then opened it a quarter of an inch with her eye to the crack. She saw nothing. She opened it wider, still nothing.

  “Kitty, kitty?”

  Then an orange puff of fur darted between her legs.

  She squealed and slammed the door shut! Wheeling around she saw nothing.

  Slowly she walked around the table and there at the water dish was a large orange tabby lapping up water as if it had just traveled a long way through the hot desert.

  She laughed, and it crouched looking at her through narrow eyes. Then it went back to the water.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked

  It replied with a throaty yowl.

  She approached slowly, and it moved to the other end of the counter. She opened a few cupboards above the counter and found a box of kibble. As she filled the bowl, she could see the cat inching forward with caution. She stood, and it jumped back. She put the food away and then moved toward the door. The cat watched her until she was behind the table and then moved to food, crunching loudly as if it hadn’t been fed in days.

  She picked up her shirt and computer bag, opened the door with confidence, and moved off toward a study table.

  “See,” said her right brain. “No monsters!”

  Knowing she would have to wait until morning to get out, she figured that she might as well  finish her story and email it to her editor. Looking at the clock, she realized she might even have time to read a book.