Paragomania

[6]

Ainsley couldn't say no to you. He just couldn't. You were a god, for the paragon's sake. Your argument was sound... in a way. It didn't need to make sense to him, he was meant to protect you, but Father Carlisle would kill him.

Your nails were digging into your sides as you stared down your appointed protector. You had to focus to make sure you seemed strong and confident. If he could see you shaking the way you were, he would be able to see through your bullshit and say no. Ainsley forced some air into his lungs.

"Fine, okay," he sighed, his eyes on the floor. "I'll ask Caleb to drive us to town." You grinned, your stomach still spinning in anxiety. As he stepped out, you slipped your dead phone in your pocket. You needed this to work.

Caleb seemed annoyed if not angry, but nevertheless, he was a follower of the Paragon. You and Ainsley sat in the backseat as he drove you through the empty country roads. You entered the town through a small street with several businesses that looked empty. As you leapt out of the van onto the sidewalk, Caleb rolled down his window.

"I'll be back for you at sundown," he said in a gruff voice. You nodded and started off in a direction, Ainsley following behind. His commune robes stood out in the street. There was almost no one around, but the few who were out stared directly at him. The poor boy followed you close behind as you looked around. Just down the street around the corner from where Caleb dropped you off, there was a sign in the centre of the road.

STREET CLOSED FOR FESTIVAL

You shrugged. Apparently there was a festival happening on the street. You looked back and forth, seeing what looked like people putting together floats and food stands. You had to stay focused, there was a mission at hand. Then your eye caught the large sign.

CHELBA PUBLIC LIBRARY

You darted down the street, almost forgetting Ainsley was behind you. He ran after you, his eyebrows furrowed. He hadn't seen such floats before. He hadn't left the commune in years. He felt almost naked amongst the outsiders, his clothing looking so incredibly different. You opened the door to the library, holding it open for Ainsley to slip in. You glanced at him, rubbing his hands together and trying to remain calm. He was failing badly.

You went to the librarian, who was an older man balding on top. He wore a dark green v-neck sweater and large squarish glasses frames. You tapped the desk twice, making him sit up and look at you.

"Do you guys have mobile device charging stations?" The librarian glanced at you, then to Ainsley who stood beside you, looking at the ceiling and floor. Nothing had changed since he had been there years prior with the other children, and yet it all seemed so different. The lights felt brighter, the sound of people walking around upstairs, the buzzing of the things plugged into the walls. What was all this?

"You guys aren't those cult deprogrammers, are you?" he asked. "We can't let you use the conference rooms anymore after last time, like, legally." You scrunched up your face in confusion.

"What? No. I just need to use a charger." He pointed to a wall covered in phone chargers of all types next to a series of tables. You walked over, with Ainsley close behind, and found a plug that matched your phone. Ainsley sat at one of the tables as you looked him over. You looked him over, anxious and wearing weird cult clothes. "Give me a second, I'll be right back." He opened his mouth to protest but you were already walking away.

You walked over to the library lost and found, finding six right handed gloves, two hats, multiple socks, a pair of boots, and a big brown coat lined in fur. You grabbed the coat and rushed back to Ainsley.

"Put it on," you commanded. He hesitated, but slipped his arms into the sleeves. "We can't have everyone asking if you're a cult member."

"What's a cult?" he asked. You glanced at him and opened your mouth before closing it quickly. There was no real way to explain this to him. He grew up like this, this was just life. How do you explain? You just rolled your eyes.

"I'll explain later. I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back." He stood up.

"Can't I come with you?" he asked. He didn't like being left alone in such an unknown world. He knew nothing of what was around him, and as much as you seemed more comfortable, he needed to keep you safe.

"No," you said. "I need you to stay here and protect my phone." He hesitantly sat back down, twiddling his thumbs in his spot. You walked over to the front desk and whispered to the librarian. "Can you give me directions to the nearest police station?" The librarian nodded and wrote it down on a small piece of paper. "And hey, keep your eye on him." You pointed towards Ainsley, who was staring at his own hands and bouncing his left leg. The library grumbled something quietly. "Don't worry, I don't think he's gonna go anywhere, just... you know."

Ainsley looked around at the walls. They were all a pale beige colour, except for one down the hall where he could see the children's area. There were a couple small kids sitting in a circle, all listening to a woman dressed in a red afro wig, a big red fake nose, and white face paint. The woman read a page then honked her nose, making a loud noise. All the children giggled to themselves. It looked so fun, Ainsley couldn't feel the dumb grin on his face.

Ainsley wanted to go sit in the circle. He wanted to go listen to the story with the children. He glanced at your phone charging beside him. No, no. He had to protect your phone like you told him to. He had to stay put. He couldn't hear the story the woman was telling, but he could hear the honking of her nose and the giggling of the children. He just kept glancing back and forth between them and your phone.

The station was only a street over and a couple blocks down. You burst through the front doors and past a hooker in handcuffs to the front desk. Behind the desk stood a tall man with cropped blonde hair in his uniform red coat. You slammed your hand down on the desk, making the officer jump.

"I gotta report a death."

*****
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