“Well I shall, once I get the new items for the museum cataloged and put into place. I just can’t seem to keep up with it all. Thank goodness we’ve got Blanche to look after the library for us. Heavens dear, you trying to attract every man within a ten mile radius?” Ester inquired sarcastically, eyeing the curvaceous, young librarian.
“I hope it’s not too much,” Blanche squeaked out, crossing her arms over her bosom.
“Perhaps we should endeavor to keep your assets a bit more under wraps in the future or we’ll never get these high school students to stop talking about you,” the director smiled politely, turned on her heels to walk away but said over her shoulder. “On second thought maybe we need to put the donation sign on the desk right in front of you today, dear, might be the best day we’ve had in years. See what you can do with that, will you?” And with that she was gone, calling for Mr. Marcus to follow her without turning to address him directly.
* * *
Blanche sat on the bench immediately in front of the library under a large magnolia tree, its glossy leaves providing a haven of shade from the afternoon sun. It had rained for about 30 minutes an hour prior but now the sun was shining and the rainfall had given everything around her a brilliant, clean luster that accentuated the shrubbery and flowers. She did love it here, the city itself was beautiful, the people in general so genuine and caring, her job was a breeze and she loved the people she worked with but most of all she was content.
The poor night's sleep seemed less significant as she sat and looked around at the pretty little square and the laid back atmosphere that seemed to encompass the town and the South in general. The worry of finding a place to live, for whatever reason, seemed less important at this very moment. She was feeling something she hadn’t felt for quite some time, happiness.
“Yes, that was it!” she thought, reflecting on the past few weeks. She had not been able to quite put her finger on it this afternoon but she was sure that this is what true happiness must feel like. Being able to look beyond the events of the day it was interesting to her that such an epiphany was possible, but there it was right in the middle of her chest, that burning sensation that speaks to one’s soul that all is well and life is good.
As she was basking in her new found realization Blanche noted a gentleman approaching the steps of the library, cane in his right hand and a bit slumped over, but she thought he seemed awfully young to be walking with a cane and hunched over in that manner. She watched as he reached the steps, straightened up slightly, and looked around as if expecting to meet someone. Blanche noted that rather than looking through his glasses, he tended to tip his head so he could see over them.
It was what happened on the steps that struck her as odd. He seemed to be having a hard time judging the distance to each step. He would take a step, pull his glasses down his nose, look over them then take the next step. On the final step he failed to perform the same operation and tripped sending him falling. Rather than hitting the concrete as expected, he reacted with cat like reflexes, regained his balance without the use of the cane. Once secure that he was steady, he put his weight back on the cane, bent over and proceeded through the main doors.
The incident hung in her thoughts for only a minute or two chalking it up to her father’s favorite saying, ‘It takes all kinds’, before her thoughts returned to the beauty of the day and the happiness she was feeling. She wanted to remember the way she felt right at that moment, capture it, bottle it up along with the sunshine’s comforting rays before she had to return to her duties inside.
Earlier in the day the burglar had tossed numerous ideas around. Perhaps he should just use the Internet to help him hone his ideas and provide new ones, after all he’d been told to be creative, however, ‘creative’ was not on his resume. Breaking into a home without detection, yes it was on there, not getting caught was on there, but breaking into a home, not getting caught and making a statement for all to see, that was definitely not included in his skill set. He’d had second thoughts about using the Internet; it would be traceable. All they’d need was his list of searches in conjunction with his IP address and they’d be knocking on his door. He’d seen it happen before and didn’t want to be a part of that.
Most of the morning he wrote list after list of what he thought were good ideas only to come full circle with the understanding that most of the schemes sucked. After the press and the police had turned his first outing into a bit of a laughing matter, giving some phantom college student the credit for his well orchestrated crime, he needed something with some pizzazz. Something that says ‘Holy Shit’ to the unsuspecting public, something that will really get their attention without drawing undue attention to himself or the ultimate goal. He obviously needed some help and he knew the trip he’d planned for the library must take place, however, he didn’t want to go as himself just in case they had security cams scattered about. It had been years since he’d visited a public library and he had no idea what to expect, except for an old maid behind the counter and dusty books on the shelf.
Several options for a makeshift disguise presented themselves but he settled on a Gulf War vet with a back injury. His father’s old cane would suffice as a prop and an old baggy, green army issue jacket would complete the ruse. To enhance the look he filled his hands with hair gel and smoothed it through his straight black hair, pulling it back, exposing his forehead and uncovering his ears in the process. Perfect, he had thought, looking in the mirror, and to top it off he pulled a pinch of chewing tobacco from a tin his father had left behind and put it between his cheek and gum.
“Not so bad,” he thought, as the juices filled his mouth and he swallowed.
Big mistake! He couldn’t get to the toilet fast enough and he’d spewed tobacco and his breakfast all over the bathroom floor. It had taken him until almost noon to get things cleaned up and his disguise completed again minus the tobacco. Instead he settled on an old pair of glasses, also left behind by his father, who used them for reading in his later years. They made his eyes look funny in the mirror, kind of magnified and larger than life but he could manage to see through them well enough to get around. The distance vision was poor so he wouldn’t be able to drive with them on but the near acuity was acceptable so he shouldn’t draw any undue attention to himself, especially in a place where everyone would be reading. Before leaving on the appointed mission he stood in front of the mirror admiring the work he’d done.
“Me own mum wouldn’t recognize me,” he uttered under his breath in a funny little accent, and with cane in hand he had headed for the Valdosta Public Library.
Blanche returned to the main lobby of the library to find a donation sign positioned squarely in the middle of the desk with a canister nearby to accept cash and coins. She chuckled lightly before addressing the items filling her ‘to do’ boxes. Seated at the desk she could see a fair portion of the library but failed to see where the green clad fellow had gone.
“Must be upstairs. Hope he didn’t hurt himself,” she thought, returning her attention to the damaged books she was mending with strapping tape on the counter with the assistance of one of the young men from the school program.
She noted that he was having a very difficult time focusing on the project at hand and made a mental note not to wear this sweater again. Too distracting at work but would possibly work wonders under the right circumstances. Once the few mending jobs were completed she excused the young man with the wandering eyes and made her way around the library, checking on the facility and making sure that all was well. The later afternoon patrons tended to be younger and that was the case today. In the far, back corner of the lower level a group of college students were huddled together working on term papers.