When it rains, it pours

Sharp pain crackles across Evelyn Brooks' frontal lobe as she attempts to open her eyes. Today, twenty-four years ago, she gave birth only to experience a mother's worst nightmare. 

"Be better off dead," she utters to herself.

Her breath is foul. Her stomach threatens to erupt.

It feels horrible to feel horrible. 

"What a silly thought."

"Will it ever cease?"

Is it even possible for her to feel full rather than empty? Can she experience ease, instead of needing to fight to live life? How can she win, if she is always losing? 

"It's not fair."

Life ain't always fair. Only the strong survives. Weakness dies young.

The grim advice given by a wiser woman encountered during Evelyn's youth thumps her spirit causing a wave within her to rise.

She has survived her losses. And despite debilitating despair, she has kept her job-and received a promotion. 

It is time to end the pity party. 

Tears ooze from the inner corners of her eyes tracing the triangle of her nose. Her crooked thumb wipes them, spreading wetness. 

"Why me?” she asks.

Defying inclination to rise from her bed, she fall back against a puffy pillow in a lavender pillowcase. 

Dark cold space answers her question.

"Why not you?"

She is alone in her hell, but at least she can leave it, she considers-unless she is too hungover.

Internal fire singes the in-the-moment effects of feeling like a victim.

Out of bed onto her feet she stands; Her first step a bit wobbly. 

Bittersweetness coats her mouth. The taste of aftertaste gags her causing her to puke before reaching the bathroom.

The recently promoted Senior Librarian is expected to work every day no matter rain, sleet, or snow. No one at work suspects she drinks until she passes out most evenings after her shift.

Thomas visits her mind when she see his toothbrush on the bathroom floor. 

The cat must have knocked it down. Evelyn picks it up. 

He would insist she stay home, because in his opinion women shouldn't work outside the kitchen and bedroom. 

She ignored this nonsense when he was alive.

After they buried their precious baby boy, she worked to escape reality. Her spirit smiles at knowing, even if Thomas was here, she would continue with preparing for work.

The steamy shower washes away yesterday's sorrow. Lavender rose natural body wash coats her body with a scent that welcomes the day. 

A thick yellow towel she wraps around her body, temporarily, makes her feel young, again.

She wore a yellow halter dress the day she met Thomas.

She was with her momma and pappa-her grandparents downtown at the skatepark. Back when the town offered wholesome entertainment. Thomas held her hand as they skated pass her parents, who waited until they returned home to ground her.

Feeling fresh and refreshed, Evelyn takes time to clean up her sickness. Then, she goes to the kitchen, where she prepares a cup of peppermint tea. The wooden dining table, where she sit to drink it, remind her of meals she and Thomas shared here. Meals where she placed an extra plate for their son.

At first, it was a baby plate; then a porcelain saucer; then a styrofoam plate, until she stopped cooking as frequent.

Why drink wine when it leads to discomfort the next day?

The question riddles her logic.

She didn't know why Thomas drunk as much as he did. Damn near every day. 

Life was different back then. Times were much simpler.

Thomas became a small time farmer after they eloped. He did well selling cucumbers, melons, and squash at the town's marketplace downtown. He didn't mind his wife's help in the garden, but only he went to the marketplace.

Thomas had been somewhat of a savior by helping Evelyn escape parental smothering. This is why she obeyed her husband's wishes in the beginning of their marriage. This lasted until they were pregnant, and then mournful.

Thomas considered disrespecting Evelyn's defiance with his fist when he found out she was working at the library. Still, she was nonchalant when she responded to his fury. 

Times were changing-and so were they. This is what she told him before walking away. Never again did he threaten to hit her.

Oden County Library is located ten minutes away from the house that Thomas bought for them before he died. 

Red bricks form two stories of space for patrons to explore interests. 

It looks to Evelyn like Oden County will get some rain before time to go home. She close the top of her white sports car before walking, as fast as possible, towards the tower.

Cold air slaps Evelyn in the face as soon as the first set of sliding doors part for her presence. Bright lights receive her causing the space behind her eyelids to ache. 

Evelyn imagines what it would be like for the library to be dark, where patrons read by lamp light and candle light. The scene was read in a book she shelved in the Children's Library.

This idea is highly unlikely so it wafts away from her without pain. She continues forward tolerating the bright reality. She look downward at L.V.P. flooring, at subtle wood-like patterns as she advance in a meandering line away from others towards the Fiction section of the library. 

She enter a door between two pregnant book cabinets. The room is dim and warm.

Empty benches across from each other create a path that Evelyn follows to the back wall where a thin black square is mounted. The square awakens when Evelyn touches the screen. She choose the heading EMPLOYEE ROSTER, where she scroll to EVELYN BROOKS. Touching her name clocks her into the system as working until she return to clock out.

She turn and follow the path between the benches to the door.

Cold air and bright lights.

It seems like the volume of voices has escalated. More people are moving around metal wall size shelves of books. Several reading tables are occupied. 

Wild laughter pulls Evelyn's attention towards a scene of a young girl and a young boy, kindergarten age, running and tagging each other in front of the door to the Children's Library. They make eye contact with her and see the frown she projects. Her head moves from side to side in disapproval.

It takes seconds for the children to disappear from Evelyn's sight behind the door. 

Evelyn replaces the frown used to redirect the children with a straight face that says she is present and ready to work. She stop at the Circulation Desk.

"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Brooks."

"Hi there, Colbert. How's it going today?"

Evelyn lifts her heavy bosom to force her shoulders back. She doesn't actually make eye contact with the young man she is relieving, yet acts as though she does.

The young man continues the conversation while gathering his belongings.

Pride strokes the ego of the Senior Librarian because she was successful at resisting the urge to tell Colbert to stop talking to her because he was helping her head hurt. She injected no opinion about the altercation she was made aware of between the Supervisor and Director. She set a good example, even though she feels uncomfortable inside.

Her first project, she decides, will be to shelve a cart full of books belonging to the Children's Library. This will allow her to look in on the youth she redirected. She place a green and yellow lunch bag on the bottom of the cart, in case she feels a drop in her sugar levels. 

Colbert returns to the Circulation Desk to share something he forgot to say. He asks Evelyn to leave the cart and follow him to a different section of the library. They walk to the back section where three massive tables border three massive windows displaying the colorful forest in the background of the library. He points toward a boy seated at a table alone.

"He's been there for almost two hours," Colbert whispers.

"Alright I will take care of it," Evelyn whispers back. "Don't be late for your class."

"I tried talking to him to ask him where his parents were, but he just ignored me. He wasn't loud or anything, so I let him alone. Just checked back several times to see had anyone joined him. No one ever did."

Evelyn nods, symbolizing receipt of the information that was shared before walking away from her co-worker. 

"Excuse me," she greet the boy in approach.

His body remains still. 

She pick up a piece of paper from the floor.

"I think you dropped this." 

Evelyn is amazed by the drawing of a house surrounded by pregnant grey clouds. The realism appears to be beyond the capability of the young boy in front of her, until she catches a glimpse over his shoulder and see a realistic drawing of a woman in progress. The woman standing in the center of the page is wearing a pair of cut-off shorts with a light color halter top. One hand is propped on her hip. The other hand is holding a lit cigarette up to her mouth.

The boy's pencil stops moving on the paper. His body stiffens.

"Hi there, young man. I found this."

She place the paper on the table. 

"Is this yours?"

Large brown eyes engulfs Evelyn when the boy turns to face her. It feels like they scan her to decide if it is safe for him to nod.

"Wow. You are quite the artist. I wish I could draw as well as you have. Your parents must be proud."

The boy returns his attention to the drawing he was working on before Evelyn interrupted.

"Speaking of parents. Where are they?"

She takes a seat next to the boy, rather than across from him, hoping to decrease his discomfort with her presence. After all, she is a stranger. 

After a few moments of silence, she asks the boy if he has a name, but receives no answer. This will require a different approach, she decides.

Quickly, she leaves the table and returns to the Circulation Desk where she attempt to call the Supervisor. 

No answer.

She check with the two librarians in the area to find out what they know about the unattended child who won't speak, but they know no more than she does. 

Her stomach growls making her remember her lunch stored at the bottom of the cart. Cookies have potential to create friendships, she decides. She will go have lunch, shortly.

"I'm back, Mr Artist."

She return to the seat beside the boy. 

He look at her, then looks away.

"I have some chocolate cookies I wouldn't mind sharing with you, if you would like to have one."

He face her when she place a package of cookies on the table between them. He watch her open it and take one out. His gaze follows the cookie from the table to her mouth.

Evelyn plays up the moment. The cookie tastes good to her, as they always tastes. She chew it, dramatically, and adds, "mmmm." She smiles at victory when she see the boy take a cookie from the package. 

"Mmmmm."

This is the only sound he makes as he devour three cookies in less than a minute.

"Wow," Evelyn says, trying to keep up with progress. "You are a professional cookie eater, too. How impressive. What should I call you? Do you have a name?"

No answer.

Evelyn finishes the last cookie without the dramatic display. Once she is done, the boy looks away. He begin a new drawing with light swift strokes against the paper.

"Mrs. Brooks, excuse me," Evelyn hears behind her.

"Someone is waiting to speak to you at the Circulation Desk."

Evelyn informs the boy, as though he cares, of her need to leave. She asks the female, who delivered the message, to sit with him until she returns.

Several patrons are waiting in line to speak to Evelyn when she arrives to the Circulation Desk. She address each patron with friendly curiosity to understand how to best assist them. While she is talking with an older man seated on his power chair, she notice a female around the age of twenty speed pass the Circulation Desk towards the area where the boy is sitting. Her face is familiar. Before the conversation with the man on his power chair is complete, the female and the boy speed pass the Circulation Desk towards the Exit.

"Hold it," Evelyn says firmly to the female. 

"Excuse me," she addresses the man. "Is there any other way I can assist you, Sir?

"I think I've got it from here. Thank you."

His chair rides him beyond the Circulation Desk.

"Why you calling me out, like you know me or something, old lady?"

The female's face appears to twist stress with fury.

"Are you this child's mother?"

"Yeah. This is my son. Why? What he do wrong?"

"What you do?" she demands of him.

He remains silent. His eyes focuses on space across the distance.

"He waited, quietly, for you. That's what he did."

"That's what he was supposed to do. He good now. We gotta go. My ride waiting."

"The library has a policy for patrons visiting with children. All children should be with their parents during their time spent here.,"

"Save it."

The female pulls the boy along.

Evelyn is left behind with the moment of her day when she doesn't know how to think about the situation. She tries to shake off the offense she felt from the young ignorant girl. She feels bad for the boy, although she doesn't really know why.

She has forgotten the children from earlier while inside of the Children's Library shelving the books on her cart. All she thinks about is the weird encounter.

The Supervisor, a tall slender male wearing tight grey slacks and a white polo shirt, almost walks right into Evelyn as she opens the door to the Children's Library to leave.

"Meet me in the Employee Lounge."

This takes Evelyn further into her thoughts, now about her job. Usually, it is never a good thing to be called to the Employee Lounge by the Supervisor. She park her cart and then reports to the Employee Lounge.

Her breath shortens when she walk into the dim space where the Supervisor is standing beside a table with his arms crossed.

"Tell me I'm dreaming," he insists as soon as the door closes. "Tell me you didn't give a patron's autistic son cookies. Tell me you didn't carelessly give cookies to a child who is allergic to sugar. Tell me my Senior Librarian did not eat and give out cookies in a space that says no eating and drinking."

Evelyn remains silent. Anything she say will be worthless in her defense. 

She is told she is solely responsible for repercussions of her unwise actions. She will be demoted to Temporary Assistance until the matter is resolved. Her pay will match her new position, and will be reflected on her next paycheck. She is then left with a note card bearing a name and phone number.

"Freya Rector," she say the name aloud. 

The female in the drawing.

What a day, Evelyn thinks in response to the way she met the family she adopted. Today, is their one year anniversary since the disaster at the library. She is seated at the wooden table that has been set by Adirion-still, he is a person of few words. Occasionally, he makes sounds to connect with others.

"Mmmmm," he says to Evelyn when he brings a plate holding a colorful mix of steamed vegetables.

"Mmmmm," Evelyn replies in anticipation of tasting the dish he has prepared.

"This is for you, Mrs. Evelyn," Freya says handing her a square envelope.

Evelyn accepts. She opens the envelope, carefully. Then reads:

There are times when storms come and wash away the sunshine from our days. Then, follows a rainbow adding color to the sky. Once the clouds move, the sun returns to shine on our hopes and dreams. Then, we know without doubt, we are loved.

Written in blue ink:

Thank you for finding a way to reach me and my son at a time when we needed help, but had no one real to count on. I've said sorry many times. I mean it from the bottom and top of my heart. You have opened my eyes to better days. I'm glad you gave Adirion cookies that day. Sincerely, Freya Rector.

Tears ignore Evelyn's attempt to not cry in front of her new family. Still she smiles and thanks Freya for the card, and Adirion for the food- especially for the portion he places on the plates for her son, her husband, and the cat purring beneath the table.

The four of them eat in good company. 

Evelyn feels satisfied with the moment. She is at ease with herself and her life.

She takes a drink of her raspberry sparkling water. Her tongue dances to the flavor.