At The Library

By: Kyara Caledonii

Copyright February 28, 1993

Karym stood before the library bookshelf and made an irritated hiss, sucking air between her front teeth. That man was still following her. She rounded the end of the stacks and caught him in the corner of her eye for just one second, that was all it took to catch a glimpse of him. Then she hurried down the next aisle and rounded the other end in an effort to lose him.

Having put two stacks between them, she made a leisurely examination of the visual memory she'd just registered. He was handsome in a harsh sort of way. High cheekbones, straight eyebrows, Wavy Brown hair to his shoulders...he looked a bit like a graduate student in his turtleneck and overcoat. Or perhaps an artist of some kind. But she knew both assessments were faulty. He seemed neither of these things in the way he carried himself.

She browsed among the books for a moment, waiting to see if he would follow again, and decided she'd lost him. Only then did she realize she was browsing the home-mechanics how- to books, and she moved along to the foreign-language dictionaries.

This was what she'd come for. Her reference library at home was extensive, but it lacked a Gaelic/English dictionary. She took a nice, thick one from the shelf and went to the checkout. The man following her stepped into line behind her, from out of nowhere, it seemed. She smiled to herself and moved forward as the line to the cash register became shorter.

A bored expression carefully arranged on her face, she turned to notice the book he'd chosen to buy. It was by R.L. Stine. One good look at this man's face, and she nearly laughed. Stine? This guy? Yeah, right. It was either a gift or else he'd picked it up from the remainders table near the coffee counter. Which was the perfect place to observe the checkout counter and be right there handy to step into the line at the opportune moment. It was time to turn the old tables.

She leaned over to read the title, then smiled up at him. "You like R.L. Stine?"

He glanced at the cover as if to check what he'd picked up, then said, "To be perfectly honest, I've never read him. This is a gift for a friend."

Okay, plausible. She gave him the benefit of that doubt. His speech was precise--almost clipped. As if there were a vestige of a foreign accent. French? It was hard to tell from a couple of sentences. He gestured to the book in her hand.

"You speak Gaelic?"

"If I did, I wouldn't need this, would I?"

He gave a tiny smile. "Oh, I'll bet you've got an English dictionary at home somewhere, even though you're obviously fluent in that language."

Her interest in him perked. A man with a brain and a sense of humor! She laughed and said, "Busted."

This time his smile was wide. "So what do you need a Gaelic dictionary for? Are you going on a trip?"

She shook her head. "I write fiction, and I'm writing a character who is Scottish. I don't need to translate all his dialogue, but a word here and there adds a little color."

"Ah." He nodded.

Taking a good look at the man she sighed. Where is he from? she wondered silently.

"So you write colorful fiction?" he asked with a soft smile.

"No, I write Romance Novels, and I'm a research freak. Over the years I've become a treasure trove of worthless information."

A strange look crossed his eyes for a moment, then fled. At the same time his smile faded, then returned. She continued as if she hadn't seen it.

"I never know what little shred of detail I'll find useful in my work, so I try to remember everything."

"You have a photographic memory?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "Well, I have an extremely accurate visual memory. Images stay with me for a long time. It comes in handy."

"I bet it does." Again there was a flash of something in his eyes, but it passed.

It was Karym's turn at the cash register, and she paid for her dictionary. As she gathered her purse and the bag to leave, the man said, "You know, I think it's fascinating that you're a writer."

She turned to him and smiled, waiting for the line she'd known all along would come. She also suspected he knew she knew it. Then he said it:

"Would you have dinner with me tonight?"

Not a bad pickup line.

"How did you know I'm not married?"

He shrugged and glanced around the room, then looked straight back at her.

"No ring, your tone of voice...I don't know, just a hunch I guess."

She nodded. "Ah." He smiled, and she continued, "If you'll answer one thing."

"Were you following me?"

He chuckled, and looked away as if embarrassed. "Yes."

Karym smiled to herself again and waited for him to purchase his book. She was laughing inside. She remembered the conversation she'd had earlier with her friend Lili. Lili had said that the only people who went to the library were ones who thought themselves ugly inside. Boy, was she wrong. Karym laughed out loud, and, he turned to her.

"Something funny?"

Karym shook her head. "Nope. Just thinking of someone who needs to join the library."

He shook his head then offered his arm. She accepted.

"By the way, I'm Roy."

Roy smiled, and, arm in arm, they walked out of the library and into the bright sun.


	AT THE LIBRARY By: Kyara Caledonii Copyright February 28, 1993 All Rights Reserved. Story cannot be reprinted/reproduced without Kyara's permission. Karym stood before the library bookshelf and made an irritated hiss, sucking air between her front teeth. That man was still following her. She rounded the end of the stacks and caught him in the corner of her eye for just one second, that was all it took to catch a glimpse of him. Then she hurried down the next aisle and rounded the other end in an effort to lose him. Having put two stacks between them, she made a leisurely examination of the visual memory she'd just registered. He was handsome in a harsh sort of way. High cheekbones, straight eyebrows, Wavy Brown hair to his shoulders...he looked a bit like a graduate student in his turtleneck and overcoat. Or perhaps an artist of some kind. But she knew both assessments were faulty. He seemed neither of these things in the way he carried himself. She browsed among the books for a moment, waiting to see if he would follow again, and decided she'd lost him. Only then did she realize she was browsing the home-mechanics how- to books, and she moved along to the foreign-language dictionaries. This was what she'd come for. Her reference library at home was extensive, but it lacked a Gaelic/English dictionary. She took a nice, thick one from the shelf and went to the checkout. The man following her stepped into line behind her, from out of nowhere, it seemed. She smiled to herself and moved forward as the line to the cash register became shorter. A bored expression carefully arranged on her face, she turned to notice the book he'd chosen to buy. It was by R.L. Stine. One good look at this man's face, and she nearly laughed. Stine? This guy? Yeah, right. It was either a gift or else he'd picked it up from the remainders table near the coffee counter. Which was the perfect place to observe the checkout counter and be right there handy to step into the line at the opportune moment. It was time to turn the old tables. She leaned over to read the title, then smiled up at him. "You like R.L. Stine?" He glanced at the cover as if to check what he'd picked up, then said, "To be perfectly honest, I've never read him. This is a gift for a friend." Okay, plausible. She gave him the benefit of that doubt. His speech was precise--almost clipped. As if there were a vestige of a foreign accent. French? It was hard to tell from a couple of sentences. He gestured to the book in her hand. "You speak Gaelic?" "If I did, I wouldn't need this, would I?" He gave a tiny smile. "Oh, I'll bet you've got an English dictionary at home somewhere, even though you're obviously fluent in that language." Her interest in him perked. A man with a brain and a sense of humor! She laughed and said, "Busted." This time his smile was wide. "So what do you need a Gaelic dictionary for? Are you going on a trip?" She shook her head. "I write fiction, and I'm writing a character who is Scottish. I don't need to translate all his dialogue, but a word here and there adds a little color." "Ah." He nodded. Taking a good look at the man she sighed. Where is he from? she wondered silently. "So you write colorful fiction?" he asked with a soft smile. "No, I write Romance Novels, and I'm a research freak. Over the years I've become a treasure trove of worthless information." A strange look crossed his eyes for a moment, then fled. At the same time his smile faded, then returned. She continued as if she hadn't seen it. "I never know what little shred of detail I'll find useful in my work, so I try to remember everything." "You have a photographic memory?" She shrugged one shoulder. "Well, I have an extremely accurate visual memory. Images stay with me for a long time. It comes in handy." "I bet it does." Again there was a flash of something in his eyes, but it passed. It was Karym's turn at the cash register, and she paid for her dictionary. As she gathered her purse and the bag to leave, the man said, "You know, I think it's fascinating that you're a writer." She turned to him and smiled, waiting for the line she'd known all along would come. She also suspected he knew she knew it. Then he said it: "Would you have dinner with me tonight?" Not a bad pickup line. "How did you know I'm not married?" He shrugged and glanced around the room, then looked straight back at her. "No ring, your tone of voice...I don't know, just a hunch I guess." She nodded. "Ah." He smiled, and she continued, "If you'll answer one thing." "That is?" "Were you following me?" He chuckled, and looked away as if embarrassed. "Yes." Karym smiled. "I'd love to." He smiled. "Good." Karym smiled to herself again and waited for him to purchase his book. She was laughing inside. She remembered the conversation she'd had earlier with her friend Lili. Lili had said that the only people who went to the library were ones who thought themselves ugly inside. Boy, was she wrong. Karym laughed out loud, and, he turned to her. "Something funny?" Karym shook her head. "Nope. Just thinking of someone who needs to join the library." He shook his head then offered his arm. She accepted. "By the way, I'm Roy." "I'm Karym." Roy smiled, and, arm in arm, they walked out of the library and into the bright sun. The end!