The Lightness of Heavy Objects

Evelyn looked at the dirty creature huddled against a bookshelf, shivering with cold and possibly fear. Daddy always told her to expect the unexpected in life, but a wild animal in her library was a different kind of unexpected. She could handle divorce and loneliness but a dirty little street urchin was a little more than she was equipped to accept. And she never would have known had she not forgotten her “People” magazine and had gone back to the library to retrieve it.

“What in the hello are you doin’ here boy?” Evelyn rolled up her magazine, ready to fend off the kid should she be attacked. She unrolled it again a few seconds later; the kid was small and undernourished and plainly could not best the robust woman she had become.

“What’s yor name?” Evelyn asked, hoping that her second question would get a response. She glowered at the kid and her eyes softened just a little. He was so small. So frail. He looked for all the world like a little dog that had been kicked any time it came around a human foot.

When the boy did speak, Evelyn registered surprise. Not at his answer, but in his delivery.

“My name is Copernicus Lee Franklin, madam. However, you have the advantage of me.”

Evelyn looked at him, frowning slightly and tilting her head. The boy’s voice is clear and strong, she thought, so I don’t guess he’ll be a dyin’ on me here in the – she looked up at the shelves above his head – Math & Science section. But what did the little tyke mean by having some advantage?

“Whut?” Evelyn’s one word was full of suspicion and trepidation. Something was off about this little boy who used the English language in such a weird way.

“You know my name now, but I do not yet have the honor of knowing yours,” the boy looked at her steadily, a pleasant little smile on his lips.

Evelyn looked over the top of her glasses and peered at Copernicus as if he were either a lunatic or an alien, though the fear associated with meeting either was absent. He was so small! He couldn’t possibly hurt her, a trait that she had not totally discounted. He was also filthy. Not to put too fine a point on it, he smelled bad.

“I am Evelyn, but you may call me Mrs. Cole,” she said, offering a hand to the boy. He stood up immediately and took the proffered hand, shaking it with confidence. When he stood up, however, waves of acrid, pungent odor strongly assailed her nose. The boy smelled like ten kinds of stink.

“Mrs. Cole. My pleasure,” he said simply and remained standing. Evelyn noted, with some little surprise, that he gave her a short bow and a terrific smile. Like someone out of a romance book would do.

Evelyn sighed and looked at the boy more closely. His clothes were in tatters. In fact, she peered more closely, he seemed to be wearing a girl’s sweater. And girl’s socks. The pants he was wearing had a dirty, oily sheen to them, and the two shirts he was wearing were at least two sizes too big for him. His shoes were woefully scuffed and dirty; one had a loose heel.

Yet there was something about this boy, she thought. He had a sort of pride or dignity of some such. He stood erect, and he looked her in the eye. Polite, too, not like some of the young hooligans that she knew, all laughing at her behind her back because she had put on a few pounds since her divorce. Horace used to be a good man, but he strayed from righteousness. The bottle and the skinny blondes took him away.

“Shall we sit?” Copernicus asked, breaking into Evelyn’s melancholy reverie. He stood beside a chair until she seated herself and then he sat down. Like a real gentleman.

The couple remained silent for some moments, each ruminating over the new twist in their respective lives. Evelyn felt sorry for the boy, but she didn’t know what to do with him. He couldn’t stay in the library, but she sure didn’t want to take care of him. Copernicus didn’t want to leave the library for another orphanage. He would have to leave it and find some other place to stay.

“Would you like something to eat?” Evelyn looked at Copernicus, noting that his eyes briefly lit up. It didn’t last long, but it was there, she thought, and then he go back to looking pleasant and a little blank. Evelyn didn’t know the word “impassive,” but if she did she would have used that word.

“Yes, Mrs. Cole. It would be a pleasure to dine with you,”

Copernicus patted his pockets, ostensibly in search of money.

“I seem to be embarrassed for money at the moment, Mrs. Cole. Perhaps…” he looked at her wistfully.

It was at this moment that Evelyn, a stranger to love and companionship, decided that God was now taking a moment to push her onto a different path in life. ‘Bout time, she thought.

“I reckon I’ll just run over to the Dairy Queen and get us some burgers and fries. Would you like that, boy?” Evelyn stood up without waiting for an answer. Copernicus rose swiftly to his feet before replying in the affirmative.

Ten minutes later, Evelyn watched with a mixture of amazement and pleasure as Copernicus wolfed down two Beltbusters, three orders of fries, and drank two sodas. She ate her Hungerbuster slowly as she eyed the carnage taking place before her. Copernicus had lost all reserve when the food was placed before him, chewing with gusto and taking bites much bigger than his size would suggest.

“You were a mite hungry were ya’?”

Copernicus, finished with his impressive repast, sat back and smiled at Evelyn, nodding.

“I never had a full hamburger before. Or hot fries. Or a soda that wasn’t watered down,” he said. Evelyn knew he was embarrassed to tell her this, but he held his head up and looked her, as always, in the eye. Now Evelyn knew what it meant to have a broken heart.

“I used to sneak out at night and go to the Dumpster and search for the remnants of food at Dairy Queen. Those kids that eat there, they often leave half or more of their meal uneaten, so I avail myself of their discarded food. The food is cold and the soda is tepid, but it’s a fine repast nonetheless,” he said, this time looking away.

Evelyn wiped a tear away, cleared her throat, and looked at Copernicus with a serious face.

“Who you belong to, boy? Ain’t no kids around that don’t belong to somebody in these parts,” Evelyn blew her nose before looking back at Copernicus.

“I belong to no one. My story, or so it has been told to me, is that I was left on an orphanage doorstep when I was two.”

“And the rest?”

“The rest is my story. I left the orphanage when I was seven because I was picked on all the time. I liked to read instead of play. Even the older girls picked on me, but one must never strike a girl, so I decided to leave that place. I lived a nomadic life for a few months before I found this place. I crawled through the grate to the boiler room and I have been living here ever since.”

Copernicus looked at Evelyn and she nodded quickly. Yes, that would be how she would act if this had happened to her. In fact, it was very much how she had acted when her husband left her all those years ago. She had moved around until she found a place that accepted her. She then crawled through a hole and had lived in darkness ever since.

"How come old Mrs. Meadows didn’t find you out?”

Copernicus gave Evelyn a slight smile and a little twinkle of the eye.

“She couldn’t hear very well, and her eyesight was less than stellar. It was quite simple to evade her. I admit I was a bit worried when you took over the running of the library. However, you were also easy to evade.”

Evelyn wanted to feel miffed about this, but she couldn’t. She knew that she paid very little attention to what was going on in the library; it was an easy job, and no one cared if she did it well or not.

“How about Fred?”

Copernicus looked at Evelyn quizzically.

“The janitor,” Evelyn explained.

“He regards this job much as you do, Mrs. Cole. As a sinecure, if I may be so bold.”

Evelyn looked at him and shook her head.

“I don’t know what the hello that word that sounds like ‘sin’ and ‘cure’ means, but I reckon it means that Fred and me don’t do nearly enough to earn our pay,” Evelyn said. She shifted in her chair slightly, more out of embarrassment than discomfort. This scrawny kid had her number and she was ashamed of her actions, especially in light of the situation at hand. This poor kid had to scrap and scrounge for morsels of food and here she was, earning her daily bread by doing nothing more than shelving a few books and reading magazines.

“I apologize for my forthright manner of speech, Mrs. Cole. I meant no disrespect,” Copernicus suddenly stood up and started throwing away fast food wrappers. Evelyn let him do it, more because she was thinking about what to do with this kid, though she knew in her heart what she needed to do. But she wanted to put the little tyke in her pocket and take him home.

“The waste of manhood that was my husband wanted kids,” Evelyn said as Copernicus fussed around the table, wiping it down with paper towels wet with the condensation from the sodas. Evelyn admired his ingenuity, but she figured that this came from necessity.

Copernicus sat himself down and waited for Evelyn to continue speaking.

“But I didn’t, you see. The man loved his drink too much to be a good husband. Well, that’s what I told myself anyway. I reckon the truth of the matter was that I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to live a life of raisin’ kids and washin’ their clothes and cookin’ their meals and just generally bein’ like my momma and all her friends. It all seemed so sad,” Evelyn said.

Her thoughts drifted off to her mom’s countenance. It was always worn and tired. And hopeless. Like she had given up and just wanted to survive each day until it was time to go to bed and escape her life. She would have that same beaten look when she got up in the mornings to cook breakfast. As a child, Evelyn wondered what her mom felt the moment she woke up and her life came rushing in at her.

“I never told anyone this, Copernicus. I don’t know why I’m spillin’ my guts to you.”

Copernicus looked at her thoughtfully before speaking.

“My parents just left me outside some door, and now I have to deal with the consequences of their actions. I wish they had been more like you,” Copernicus said quietly.

“You talk funny, Copernicus. Like some college professor,” Evelyn said, to change the subject.

“I read a lot. When the library is open, I sit down in the boiler room and read. Sometimes I hear voices above me and I try to make out what they say, but most of the time, I can’t. When the library is closed, I’ll watch the little TV you have in your office, or I’ll sit in one of these chairs and read some more. The chairs are very comfortable, and it smells better up here,” Copernicus almost smiled.

“You can’t stay here forever, Copernicus,” Evelyn said. She looked at Copernicus as if he had done something wrong. He hadn’t, and she knew it. He was just another victim of life, but, unlike many, he had taken it upon himself to battle his victimhood with action. He was living in squalor but he was making his own life.

“Why not?”

Copernicus looked at Evelyn squarely, with a thoughtful look on his face. The question had taken her aback.

“Well, land’s sake, boy! You gotta grow up, get a job, find a woman to love. Live your life. Buy yourself a house, maybe. Have kids, if it suits you. Oh! And get a swimming pool! I always wanted one, but I never have,” Evelyn stopped talking, embarrassed by her outburst. She noticed that Copernicus was laughing.

“The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry, Mrs. Cole. A poet named Robert Burns said that. I think it’s pretty apropos in this situation, don’t you?” Copernicus’ eyes were shining with mirth.

“Well, boy, I don’t rightly know what all that means. I know what rye is but I didn’t say anything about mice. I reckon your words are just too high falutin’ for me, Copernicus,” Evelyn said, but without any rancor. She liked this kid.

“It means that plans often have a way of not working out. As with you and your ex-husband. As Flaubert said, live - don't plan.”

“Don’t know the man.”

“He’s a French writer.”

“Oh! Well! Can’t trust those people, you know. They didn’t help us out much during WWII, and all we got from them is French fries and a big statue.

“I trust him.”

“Well, think about it, boy! You really want to spend the rest of your life hidin’ in the basement here and chowin’ down on half-eaten burgers from ungrateful teenagers? What kind of life is that?” Evelyn looked at him with the painful awareness that he might just believe that this would be a good life. He was only ten, after all; no matter how well he spoke, he was still just a kid.

“I thought that I might live in a zoo after I got older. I could walk around at night, visiting the animals. And zoos are big. Many places to hide. I imagine the quality of food in the garbage bins there would be no worse than Dairy Queen fare.”

“You’re foolin’ with me aren’t you?”

Copernicus grinned and nodded.

“But what choice do I have, Mrs. Cole? I am not ready to face the world on any terms but mine. Yes, I live in filth and darkness, but all is sweetness and light when I open a book. I am transported to so many different places, and I am consumed by so many characters that I feel like I have lived a thousand lives so far. Would you take that away from me?”

Evelyn nodded.

“I reckon you’re smarter than you should be and tougher than just about anyone I know, so I guess your opinion on how to live your life is as good as any. Ain’t many kids your age that I trust with such stuff, but you’re…well…unusual.” Evelyn wanted to say “weird,” but he wasn’t weird. He was beaten to hello by life and the kid just wouldn’t give up on hisself.

“I believe that we’re at an impasse,” Copernicus said, sighing. He knew how adults thought; mainly, that they knew what a kid needed. He was living evidence, though, that this wasn’t necessarily true. Despite his squalid surroundings, he lived well.

“I don’t know that word, but if you mean that we’re stuck for an answer, you might be right. I can’t abide lettin’ you live in this here basement and you can’t abide living in an orphanage.”

“They don’t want me there.”

And there it was, Evelyn thought. The truth of the matter. The boy wasn’t gonna stay where he wasn’t wanted. She understood this because she was the same way. She wasn’t wanted by her husband, so she left. She wasn’t wanted even by her own self, so she fled into the comforting arms of food and an easy job in an anonymous town. She worked alone (Fred didn’t count as a co-worker because he was always drunk and he was always messing around outside the library so he didn’t have to do anything inside the library), she ate alone, she slept alone, she watched TV alone, she read her magazines alone, and she was sure that she would die alone. Suddenly, it didn’t feel right.

The night had crept into the library, casting shadows across the floors and rising in sharp angles on the walls. The street lights burned dim and yellow outside, showering the surrounding area with an unsettled, quiet aura of heaviness. The crickets started to settle down and the frogs began their throaty calls into the darkness; fireflies came from the river, adding a blue, soothing light to the banks of the nearby river. The world kept going, though Evelyn felt like her life had stopped. It had. Copernicus had grabbed hold of her spinning earth.

Evelyn shifted heavily in her seat. More heavily than usual. She was feeling the weight of her decisions resting on her shoulders for the first time in a long time, and she didn’t like. But she faced it, just like this skinny little kid in front of her.

“I reckon you could live with me,” she said. Everything in her life hung in the balance now. That one word that Copernicus would speak. Yes. No. There were no other choices.

“Yes. I’d like that. But would you call me Copper? I think it’s a smashing nickname.”

Evelyn breathed again, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Sure thing, Copper. Oh!”

“Yes?”

“And we’ll get a swimming pool!”

Copernicus smiled a smile as bright as the sun. He was wanted.

Evelyn cried quietly. She was wanted.

The swimming pool was not optional any longer.