Beach Day

17: Gay Librarians Know Things, Too

The setting sun heralds their arrival at the library. That's par for the course. It's winter. The sun sets early enough that Tiff can feel it in her bones, even pre-solstice. (It's only a few days away. She can wax poetic about solstices and moons.)

She hasn't been here in forever. It's an old brick-and-mortar building down on the street just off Main, more trapped in time than the rest of the town. Even after the Sheridans moved to Orlando, they still only had the one computer there— an old, clunky thing tucked away in a corner like an old secret.

Inside, the lights are low, the books stretch back to the corners and the reference desk is as unmanned as it always was. It's a shot of nostalgia to the brain: old carpet, the smell of mildew, the feeling like a world of knowledge is at her fingertips and she just needs to open the right book to get to it. It's like being twelve again, like she's about to become a new person entirely. She loves the library in Lake Wonder; the public library she started going to in Orlando after the move was fine; but nothing has ever matched the pure delight of wandering in here after school to bury herself in Ray Bradbury and Robert A. Heinlein.

She can see some of her old peers in here. There's Jordan Keane himself, sitting at a table off near the corner, yellow lamp illuminating whatever book he's reading, the gentle blue glow of his laptop screen illuminating the rest of him.

A cart with squeaking wheels sounds off somewhere to the left. She knows that's where she has to get in order to get the answers she needs. Not only is this the town's public library, but it's also the workplace of one of the oldest friends she has. If anyone knows about Priscilla Cain going missing and dying— or even where to find that information— it's Mr. Hillam.

She tries to step further into the library, but Matt grabs her hand to pull her back.

She looks back at him, quizzical. "What's up?"

"We can't just leave Kepler out here, can we?"

"Sure we can! The little guy could use some rest, I think. I don't think napping in the truck bed would be out of order, if you're alright with it."

"I mean, I've got a cage back there I could assemble."

"I don't think that'll be necessary." Tiff looks down at Kepler, who stands behind Matt in the doorway. "Go on, then. Get some rest. We've been running around all day. You deserve it."

He gives her a look (like she's a massive hypocrite), but scampers off all the same.

Walking into the library, she whispers to Matt, "I'm not going to ask why you have a cage in your truck."

"Capture reasons." He says it with a shrug, like it's the most normal thing in the world. it definitely isn't and she definitely doesn't know what to say about that. She just moves further in, to where the sound of the squeaking cart tells her she'll find Mr. Hillam.

He's an older man, with sagging, wrinkled skin, cheeks the color of cherries, and a small, thin frame. He habitually wears suspenders. Denny would call that "nerd behavior," but Tiff thinks it's wonderful and sweet.

There's a row of pictures of veterans within the First Church of Fort Reverence where he looks dignified, like a representative of something bigger than himself— but he has always looked more like himself in the library. There's something about the way he smiles as he raises a book to a shelf and hums under his breath like there will never be anything more satisfying than this that makes her want to live in this moment and this building forever. It's like peace originates from here.

She could try to be coy, she knows. They're deep in the bounds of the adult section; she could pretend to be looking for some Patterson or something near there and act like she ran into him by accident, but she doesn't really have the time or energy for a ruse right now. Though she's excited to be back, that doesn't mean she isn't sunburned, exhausted, and secretly near collapse and a breakdown. She's honestly tired enough that she might try to sleep tonight, instead of foraying into the Dream World. She definitely doesn't want to run into that shadow while she's sore and sunburned.