Part 1 (2/2)
”May I help you locate a resource?”
The youth's slouch and greasy hair was at odds with a shy smile.
”Could you help me, I guess, I want to please know how would I address a letter to the Queen. Of England. Please.”
Books and covers, Marian thought. ”We have several texts on etiquette, but a simple Web search might be fastest. Did you want just that question answered or are you interested in the topic of social etiquette with monarchs?”
”It's for a school sociology project. My final.”
Given the date, Marian thought he'd left his research a little late.
High schools were nearly out. ”Then for thorough research I think you'll want the text.”
Marian led the boy to an open terminal. ”Have you used the public library system before?” The boy cleared his throat, but Marian didn't know quite what to make of the noise that came out.
Now she recognized him. He worked afternoons at the Java House.
”No? Here's the catalog browser and you can use the Internet browser as well. It's of course free and there's no enforced time limit.
Starting tomorrow, new software will limit you to two hours of Internet access per day. Try a catalog search for etiquette and I think we'll see some useful guides. Sorry about the mouse. Just click three times.” Tech Services was taking its time getting a new one.
Even though the day was not going well, the orderly precision of the Dewey Decimal System was comforting as always to Marian. She patiently explained how the cataloging system worked and led him to the nonfiction shelves.
”So all these books in this area could be helpful because they're numbered the same?” The boy looked a bit like he'd found the Mother Lode. Marian was gratified to have been the one to have shown him the Dewey magic, but she was simultaneously peeved that he hadn't been taught in school. As pleasant as teaching the 3 system could be, it was not the be-all and end-all of her career choice.
”Precisely, and related subjects, like cultural standards, are adjacent. The very last Dewey entry, by the way, is the nine hundred ninety-nine series-extraterrestrial.”
”Cool.”
She was very pleased he hadn't grabbed the book she'd pointed out initially and bolted. ”If you find your question hasn't been completely answered, feel free to return to the reference desk. Good luck with your paper,” she concluded cheerily.
Safely back at the desk, Marian congratulated herself for not killing anyone so far.
”I can't find the phone book I need.”
It was an effort, but Marian plastered a smile on her face. Over the patron's shoulder she saw Eric, travel mug in hand, veer abruptly toward the magazines, leaving her to deal with the woman she privately thought of as the Lead b.i.t.c.h from the Seventh Dimension of b.i.t.c.h Universe. ”How pleasant to see you again. What area were you looking for?”
Seventh Dimension b.i.t.c.h tossed her fluffy blonde hair over her shoulder. There was something in the way she did it that made Marian absolutely certain that she should feel inadequate about her own short, dark, unremarkable hair. The woman had all the att.i.tude of Trombone, but likely none of the purring. ”Dallas, of course.”
”Of course,” Marian echoed. ”I'm sorry, but the Iowa City Public Library no longer carries phone books for areas outside of the state.
But you can use several different sources on the Internet. I'd be happy-”
”Never mind! You people never have what I want.” The departing flounce ruffled several papers onto the floor.
After tidying, Marian reached surrept.i.tiously for another square of chocolate. Eric, the chickens.h.i.+t, was back. Under her breath she said, ”How long do you think it would take for someone to die from being repeatedly stapled?”
4.
”It's not worth it. I don't want to visit you in jail.”
”But I look good in orange.”
”You look like a cadaver in orange.”
Marian became aware of the tinny treble from a pair of headphones, but no one in sight had a pair on. She'd have to hunt for the culprit.
A cell phone shrilled from the direction of adult nonfiction, sending razors up her spine. ”I'm at the library, so I can't talk long,” a man's voice boomed.
”I'll go,” Eric said.
”No, I got it. Days like today these cards save lives.”
She slipped the cell-phone user the first card, which politely asked the patron to end the call or to step outside, and nodded pleasantly at the man's annoyed face. Had he no clue at all that everyone in the vicinity could hear his opinion of last night's date? She waited until he shuffled slowly toward the exit, then let her ears guide her toward the still audible static and ba.s.s of headphones.
The young woman read the card in surprise but mouthed an apology and turned the volume down sufficiently so that Marian could no longer hear anything.
Fair enough, Marian thought. She gave the patron a thumbs-up and went back to the desk. She had another hour of desk time before she could retire to the shared works.p.a.ce in the back to review new acquisitions. No one had had to be gutted and grilled. It was a relief.
Eric wasn't there, but Seventh Dimension b.i.t.c.h was.
It took a very deep breath to find even a businesslike smile. She dealt with the next series of statements about the library system's inadequacies without losing her cool, though she felt like a cartoon character with steam coming out of her ears.
Please, she thought, let my period start now. Or someone is going to die.
Eric had moved all the staplers to his end of the desk.
5.
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