The Magic of Stories

10 - The abandoned story

She frowned. "Yes, thanks. You look as if you've seen a ghost in there."

"I wish. No, it seems some kids found it funny to remove several shelf pegs. I will have to find out where before someone else gets hurt."

Fortunately, she was my last customer, and I could close shop and return home. In my backpack, I carried the mysterious manuscript.

During dinner, curiosity got the best of me and I started reading. The story of a young man in search of the meaning of life and true love was written from the point of view of Luca's snarky kitten, and it was quite funny. Plus, it was proof to me the writer experienced the magic of the library—the sarcasm and quirks of the kitten reminded me of Cat. I was more and more convinced that Conny must be the author. Why else would she keep this manuscript hidden in her desk?

When I finished the story late at night, I stowed it in an envelope and checked where Marjorie was in rehab. It was time I payed her a visit.

Saturday morning, Paco arrived at eight to help me sort out the mess in the classic section. "Hey Lynn, how are you?"

"Fine, but what about Conny?"

"She should be fine too, but she won't come to work today. Between the doctor, Amber, and me, we could convince her to heed the medical advice and stay home."

I imagined that this hadn't been easy. "I'm glad she didn't get stubborn about coming in."

He grinned and hung up his jacket. "Oh, who said she didn't? The woman can be determined, but it's one trait I admire about her. Shall we see what we find at the crime scene?"

"Sure, and I already have something for you, Sherlock." I showed him the pegs I'd discovered Friday afternoon.

"Nice work, Watson—now we just have to find out where they belong."

With due caution, we checked the shelves. Five more missed pegs, threatening to unload their weight of books as soon as someone manipulated them.

Paco frowned and touched a shelf, careful to support its load. "Can you hand me a peg? I think I can fit it back in."

I shook my head. "If you lift the weight, I will replace the peg."

He nodded, and I slid the tiny metal part into place while he secured the shelf. "One down, but several more to go."

Together, we fixed the shelves long before the library opened and also cleaned up the book avalanche from the day before.

"Thanks a lot. I'm feeling much better now. May I offer you a tea or a coffee?"

"Coffee would be lovely, thanks."

Paco leaned against Conny's desk while I prepared the drinks. When I handed him his cup, Cat appeared only centimetres from his hand. I managed to not drop the mug, but I didn't understand how Paco stayed so calm. Oh, wait, he can't the ghosts, of course.

Cat pulled a face at me and blinked his emerald eyes like always when he wanted something from me. "Don't look as if you'd swallowed your tongue, Lynn, but ask him about his progress with Conny, please."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, glad Paco was busy reading the program of the upcoming library events, unaware of the feline visitor.

Cat put on a pout and turned his back. Unaware, Paco sipped his coffee, placed the flyer back on the desk, and checked his watch. "Thanks for the coffee, but I have to hurry. Will you be fine alone here?"

As if I ever were alone in this place. "Don't worry, I'm glad you helped me with that shelf debacle. I just hope we don't have another class of jokers in here soon."

He handed me the mug and snorted. "I can't help feeling it was my fault for going on about finding the perfect lighting in photography."

"And here I was worrying I bored them with my speech about reading as an irreplaceable part of education."

We both laughed, and he reached out to touch my arm. "At least nothing worse happened. Conny will be fine, and asked to assure you she will be here Monday morning. I promised her I'd think of a way to prevent another disaster. We might glue in the pegs or use screwable ones—I'll find something."

"Thanks. In the meantime, I should probably distribute hard hats to our visitors."

"Neat idea." His chuckle was still as attractive as on the first day I met him. But to my surprise, I saw him as Conny's man now and found my former infatuation childish. Perhaps I was growing up after all.

After he left, I returned to the back of the library to check the shelves one more time when I got help from an unexpected side.

"What are you doing?" Luca leaned against the shelf we had repaired only half an hour ago.

"Checking if all the pegs are where they belong to prevent another accident on my shift."

"Oh, the hubbub yesterday. I watched the youngsters pry out the pegs, but couldn't stop them. When your friend placed a book on the manipulated shelf, I tried to warn her, but she cannot see me. Is she fine?"

"From what I know, yes. Do you remember which shelves were affected?"

He pointed them out to me without hesitation. Paco and I had missed one, but the peg was still halfway in place and I could replace it as soon as I'd taken the load from the shelf.

"Thanks a lot, Luca."

He smiled, and I would have loved to offer him a coffee too, just to spend more time with him. As it was, the door chime announced customers, and he faded away.

At noon, I closed the library, bought a sandwich, and took the train to the rehab centre to visit Marjorie. She still used crutches, but was in good spirits and insisted on taking a walk with me.

"Not far, just up and down the aisle, or even better, let's head for the cafeteria. The nurses tell me to move the new hip."

I was surprised how fast she had been on her feet again and told her.

"Thanks, dearie. It's amazing what the doctors can do these days. But how are you faring? I can see that something troubles your mind."

With a sigh, she sat down on the chair I pulled out for her, and I fetched us two cups of tea before I answered her question.

"It's about Conny. She had an accident yesterday when some kids removed several shelf pegs." Marjorie's shocked face made me stop. "Don't worry, she got away with a nasty bruise and a scare, as far as I know. But—when I searched for the first aid kit, I found this."

I pulled the manuscript from my backpack and handed it to her. With a frown, she took the stack of paper and began reading, looking at me after the first paragraph.

"Is this Conny's?"

"I believe it is, as I found it in her drawer. Of course, I shouldn't have taken it, but with Luca as a permanent guest, I needed to know. I'll put it back tonight."

Marjorie leaved through the pages and nodded. "Yes, I remember how she used to sit on the sofa and write during the slow hours. She never told me what her story was about, but I should have guessed, with Luca becoming a regular in the library."

"That's what I thought. If I ask her to finish it, do you think it will set him free?"

"Luca? I guess it would, but I'm not sure Conny will like to be reminded of this part of her life."

"Can you tell me why?"

Marjorie stirred her cup. "Well, during her first years at the library, she was not unlike you, with a sunny personality and vivid imagination."

"And then she lost it?"

Her face darkened. "Yes—it started when Marcel became ill and the worries overwhelmed her. She's still the same Conny, just that the severe blows life dealt her extinguished her spark. I hope she will recover and discover new happiness, one day. If she does, she might take up writing again."

For Luca's sake, I hoped she would.