The Magic of Stories

12 - Night shifts

The dimples appearing on Luca's face ignited a sparkly candle in my chest and awoke the butterflies in my stomach, but I pretended to be busy starting my computer. It was awkward, though, since he still lounged in my chair. I couldn't well sit down in his lap, could I?

Cat stood up and swished his tail before he faded away. "Time to give you lovebirds some privacy."

My cheeks felt hot enough to glow the colour of ripe tomatoes, and Luca chuckled. "Did he get to you? He's the Cheshire Cat. You should learn to take him with a pinch of salt."

A customer saved me from further embarrassment, but I didn't dare sit down that afternoon, as I had no way of knowing if Luca had vacated my chair. He probably had a fabulous time at my cost.

Conny's great day was Friday. Amber turned out to support her mother and had promised to come with Danny to the library. We planned to watch a movie together and eat pizza before I brought them home. Paco was already there to pick up Conny when the kids arrived, and Danny shared our program with sparkling eyes. I feared he would ask why Paco and his mother wouldn't accompany us, but he was too excited to think so far.

We spent a fun evening, and while we walked back to Conny's flat, Amber nudged me. "And how are things with Luca?"

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks and was glad it was already dark. "As usual, I guess. He is still trapped in place because of his story being nothing but an unfinished manuscript."

"Oh." She pushed her hands into the pockets of her down coat. "No wonder he's hanging out in the library with sad eyes, then. Did you find the manuscript?"

"I did, and Cat is convinced poor Luca can't move on as long as his story remains unfinished."

Amber walked a few steps in silence before she picked up the thread. "Hm, why don't you ask the author to finish it, then?"

I shrugged, unsure if I should tell her the story was Conny's work. "I tried, but they won't."

Danny stopped skipping ahead and tugged at my sleeve. "Then finish it yourself. You are a wonderful storyteller, even better than Marjorie."

"Why would you think so?"

"Because when you read, I can glimpse the spider and the piglet, and so do some other kids."

His revelation made me stop in my tracks. "You can?" Could I tap into the magic of the library for real? But this didn't make me an author, did it? "Unfortunately, reading and writing are not the same, and I only ever wrote boring essays and a thesis."

"What's an essay and a thesis?"

Amber pulled a face. "School stuff, you'll learn fast enough. But he's right, Lynn, you should at least try. Cat insists that you have a strong connection to the magic."

Cat again—would he ever stop meddling? "I'll think about it—but don't raise the hopes of Cat or Luca, you two. I doubt I have the talent needed for such an endeavour."

They disagreed, but promised to treat it as our secret. What had I gotten myself into this time?

Saturday morning, Conny seemed in seventh heaven. When I asked her how the evening went, her cheeks took on a rosy tint and her eyes gleamed. "It was—nice, and thanks for looking after the kids. They enjoyed the outing very much."

"No worries, we had fun. We can repeat that, you know, if you want to spend more time with Paco."

"Thanks, but I think next time, we will do something together with the kids. I want them to get to know him better before I engage in a relationship."

That sounded sensible enough, and I was happy for her. "I hope this works out for you—for all of you."

"So do I, and I'm glad you made this possible."

I shook my head. "Not my doing, I swear. Blame the teens who manipulated the shelves."

"How could I, if something good came from it?"

She had a point, and I had no intention of mentioning Cat's master-plan, still wondering if he had his hands, or paws, in the accident.

Saturday afternoon, I sat down with my laptop and started writing. At first, I stared at the blank screen, my mind as empty as the document I'd titled Luca's Dream. Was this how the infamous writer's block felt? I'd never experienced something similar while working on my thesis. But that had been before my dip in self confidence and being abandoned by the person I loved.

With an exhausted sigh, I fetched another cup of coffee, pushing my self pity away and mulling about my project while I waited for the water to boil. Where to begin? Back at my screen, I typed four words.

Luca—happily ever after.

Not a promising start, since for the story to have a happy ending, he would have to meet someone first. Someone he cared for and was looking forward to spend time with—like Conny and Paco.

Okay, I if I made the love interest a librarian, I could bring in a few of my own experiences and rely on Cat for the snark in the story.

I typed a few more words, a first sentence, then a second. My coffee grew cold while I wrote out a scene. This wasn't a full chapter yet, but it picked up where Conny had abandoned the manuscript and it introduced a potential love interest for Luca. When I reread my words, I realised there was a way to tie the scene with a chance encounter Luca had at the beginning of the story. Perhaps Conny had planned for the shy girl he'd met in a coffee shop becoming his girlfriend all along? Once I made the connection, it became easy to make them meet again at the bus stop in front of the library where she worked.

The flow of words and ideas set in, and I wasn't able to stop. At dinner time, I saved my work, exhausted but enthusiastic. Fiction writing was more fun than I had expected.

Instead of applying for a new job, I spent every free minute of the weekend on the story and continued plotting and writing in the evenings of the next week. My meetings with Cat and Luca in the library fuelled my ideas and pushed me on. The following Sunday, I finished the draft. It needed editing, of course, but a few night shifts later, I had a passable story. Aware it was still far from perfect, i called it a day. Since it wasn't meant for publishing or for being read by anyone except me, I hoped it would do.

Wednesday morning, when Conny had her half day off, I smuggled the story into her desk and placed it atop the first aid kit. While I closed the drawer, I wondered if I was about to make a fool of myself. Could this even work? If it did, it wouldn't matter where I stowed the manuscript, as long as it remained in the friction zone. Perhaps I should hide it closer to the hot spot in the classic section for maximal impact?

I made a copy of the text, slipped it into an envelope, fetched Paco's folding ladder and placed the story atop the last shelf in the row, well out of sight.

For the rest of the day, I waited for Luca's reaction, but in vain. He didn't turn up, and neither did he on Thursday or Friday. When I found Cat snuggling on the sofa on Saturday morning, I slumped down beside him.

"Why the long face, my favourite assistant librarian?" His whiskers quivered.

"Have you seen Luca lately?"

He rolled over, showing me his belly fur, and purred like an innocent kitten. "No, not since you've set him free."

"Did I? How can you be sure my experiment worked to his best?"

"I can't, but since he disappeared and didn't show up for two days in a row, you certainly changed something. Now, I can't know what you had in store for him, but since you seem rather fond of him, I reckon you didn't kill him off?"

I creased my brow. "Of course not. Still, I'd like to know if he is alright."

Cat sat up and blinked. "Sorry, Lynn, I cat help you. Whatever you did, it set him free, and I fear this will have to be enough for you."