Jovie & Bash

Two || Jovial

|CHAPTER TWO|

It was a few days later that I went to return The Lost City. I hopped on my bike shortly after my mother left for work and disappeared from the neighborhood for the second time that summer. I even made sure to be a bit more presentable this time, and also remembered my library card.

When I entered the cool building, I quietly slipped the book into the return slot and moved on, eyes flicking in all directions to make sure that the strange librarian from the other day hadn’t seen. It’s silly, but I felt a little at war with him, and taking that book meant he was winning.

I was still holding his pompousness against him—well, not that it was even pompousness, he just plain annoyed me, and it made it worse that I almost hoped I’d see him again, today.

I climbed the steps to the second floor and surveyed the area quickly before moving past the assortment of tables and chairs to the bookshelves. I didn’t plan to mindlessly wander this time, I prepared myself.

In the little bit of time my mother allowed me to use her laptop, I scoured the library’s website in search of an adventure—well, a literary adventure, because at this point in my life, I wasn’t searching for a real one.

I liked comfort and security. It was nice having a plan compete with bullet points and well-organized notes. So, naturally, I was the kind of person whose adventures came from documentaries on the History Channel. I would sit all day admiring the tragedy of the World Wars with my cat, Luis, snuggled in my lap.

However, since I discovered the “real” story of Atlantis in The Lost City, I realized I was in a greater state of wanderlust than I thought, and the only way to cure it was to take my mind somewhere else. I thought maybe I’d search for Pompeii before the wanderlust grew too strong and I did the unwise thing of choosing want before need.

I rounded a row of books and stepped down a new aisle, eyes searching for something of interest. I was just plucking a compact book from the top shelf when a face came level with mine from one aisle over, eyes smiling at me from between a gap in the bookshelf.

“Was it mesmeric?” Asked the face.

I jumped a little, nearly dropping the book I’d just picked out. The word choice and high nose were telltale signs of the strange librarian from the other day. A strange mix of dread and excitement brewed in my gut when I recognized him.  

He laughed quietly and whispered an apology. Then, suddenly, he was wheeling the book cart into my aisle.

“You’re Jovie, right?”

I was startled to hear my name from him since we hadn’t exchanged names before. My brows furrowed in confusion and his expectant expression turned bashful.

“Oh, I searched the registry to see if you ended up checking it out. Wasn’t hard. I was the last person to check it out before you—it was you, wasn’t it?”

My eyes narrowed while my lips twitched in disbelief. “You checked the registry...”

He put his hands up in defense, and quickly began a chorus of “no’s”.  “I wasn’t being creepy,” he claimed, hands waving frantically, “I just didn’t want to embarrass myself by asking about the book if you didn’t read it...”He paused and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.. “Not that I haven’t just embarrassed myself now...” His face turned blotchy and he lifted a book from the cart to hide his face behind. “I am so sorry.”

I pressed my lips together, trying hard not to laugh, but failing when I couldn’t hold back the grin that threatened to appear. There was nothing eloquent about his blundering—and the image he had tried so hard to create the other day just crumbled before him in a string of garbled stutters.