Between the Stacks

Chapter 10

By Monday morning I was feeling discouraged. Mr. Oodles of Noodles hadn't responded to me, I had grabbed the wrong flavor of Pop-Tart for breakfast, and only when I was walking into the library did I notice a huge rip in my tights.

"Are you going for the rocker chic look?" Matteo asked as I threw my bag onto my desk. This early in the morning, we were the only librarians in the staff area; a page was manning the circulation desk, and Melissa was leading a Parents & Tots program. The cataloguers, who didn't work with the public, would be in later.

"I thought I would add some spice to the workday," I said, collapsing into my chair. I tapped my stuffed Kermit on the head as a greeting. He was leaning against my computer monitor. "Is Lakshmi in today?"

"I don't think so," Matteo said, pulling up the schedule on his computer. "Nope. Not until tomorrow."

I winced. "Thanks." I really needed to clear the air with her. I still felt bad about how everything with the fire had played out. And, I admit, I wanted to slide the fact that I had finally read the fire safety manual into the conversation.

There was a staff washroom in our work area, so I luckily didn't need to promenade back into the public section of the library. I slid off my tights and pulled down the hem of my skirt as far as I could. With the black tights my outfit had been classy; with bare legs it looked like I was making a move on the poor citizens of Cherryhill. I made a mental note to slip out at lunch to buy a new pair.

Fortunately I wasn't scheduled to man the circulation desk until the afternoon. In the meanwhile I planned on camping out in front of my computer where I could hide my too-scandalous-for-a-city-employee legs.

I turned on my computer, logged into all my accounts, and tried to remind myself what I had been working on last week. I glanced at my agenda, which wasn't that helpful. I had doodled Wesley's face with devil horns across the page. Only scribbled in the corner was a reminder that I was working on publicity for the summer reading program.

It was an idea I had come up with a few weeks ago, and Lakshmi had given me the green light. The children's summer program was long established; for each book a kid read, they were given a point. For every ten points they got a prize.

I realized there was a gap. What about the adults? I doubted grown-ups would want the same prizes - although personally I would love a finger skateboard - but it wouldn't be hard to buy more suitable prizes. We even partnered with local stores and restaurants to offer gift cards for the most prolific readers.

Now, at the beginning of June, we were just starting to launch the program. I was working on posters and other brochures.

My phone dinged just as I finished opening my file. I fished it out from my bag. You have a new message from GigConnector.

Mr. Oodles of Noodles! It had to be him.

I opened the app and read the first message.

Hi! I'm Mr. Oodles of Noodles, but you can call me Jack. I live in Cherryhill, so there's no need to pay for travel or lodging. I charge $30 an hour, although for an extra $50 charge, I'll bring along my friend Linguine. If you'd like to get an idea of the type of performances I do, I've included a YouTube video.

I brushed aside all thoughts of the summer reading program and plugged in my headphones. Jack's face popped up on my screen when I clicked the link.

The video was a showreel with different clips from various performances. Whether he was indoors or outdoors, whether he was playing the guitar or a keyboard, he was always clad in his pasta-themed sweater.