The Story Man

1

God, I hate looking for these stupid things.

Who even reads books anymore?

"Seriously? No books on a goddamned internet?" I mumbled aloud as I squatted in front of the umpteenth shelf I had examined. Shelves upon shelves of books, organized neatly and alphabetically. Learning the ways of the web was never something that interested me, but I had realized recently that an access point to the internet was mandatory.

If only it were still 1910.

"You should use Google to find out how to use the internet." A woman's voice interrupted my thoughts, making me jump. I gave a low grunt when I twisted my knee in an attempt to stand so quickly. My eyes met those of a librarian—a beautiful woman, barely out of her twenties. Her face was slightly round and soft, and her glinting black eyes were even softer behind those dark-rimmed glasses, meeting mine intently. But instead of being drawn to her eyes, I found myself staring at her wild mane of black curls that framed her face like a black sun. Her hair accented her thin, angular brows.

The woman's skin made my lips twitch. She had vitiligo. But, besides the creamy patches of flesh around her mouth, eyes, and spreading in puddles down her arms and legs, her skin was dark as night. Almost as dark as her eyes.

"I don't know what a google is," I replied through gritted teeth.

Then she laughed, her plush, painted-red lips spread wide over pearly-white teeth.

"Here," she said. My brows furrowed as I watched her bend down to the bottom shelf and select a book with her slim little fingers. Her nails were painted a matte black. Gross. The painted fingers didn't match her outfit, though. She wore a deep-purple pencil skirt and a red blouse that encased her in what looked like fluffy clouds of maroon fabric. Why did she feel the need to wear such bright colours? Simple blue jeans and old, weathered jackets suited me perfectly.

"Why hadn't I seen that?" I wondered aloud, glaring at the stupid little novel. But she only shrugged, her lips flashing wider for a moment before she said, "Sometimes people can't find what they need by looking just once. It can take a while."

"Mm... I seem to have that problem often," I replied absently while I opened the book and quickly flipped through the pages. I wouldn't know if it was going to help me until I got home.

"So... are you looking for anything else today? There are some pretty neat war story novels over there that you look like you would enjoy."

"I look like I would enjoy them?" I deadpanned. I just came here for one thing.

She shook her head to rid herself of her thoughts. "Uh, yeah, sorry. I've been recommending them to everyone. They're some of the best books I've ever read." The woman almost seemed guilty with that apologetic smile.

"You like war stories?" I asked. I wish I could forget mine.

The librarian shrugged. "Kinda my guilty pleasure. I read them whenever I should be studying. They always used to inspire me when i was a kid."

I almost asked her what she was studying at her age. I decided it was probably art. Maybe music. I nodded absently, uninterested and tired of this conversation. "Where do I sign this book out?" She jumped and nodded. "Oh, oh yeah! Sorry. Come on, I'll show you." I had no choice but to follow her as she turned and led me through the rows of novels.

——

Four minutes later, she was handing me the book with a grin that made me flinch. "There! You're all set. Just make sure you return it before two weeks from now, or else it'll be overdue. I'll be forced to charge you."

I nodded slowly, giving her one last glance. I didn't mean to pause and absorb her features one more time, but those dark, sparkling eyes drew me in. Did her glasses make them appear bigger? I was sure that they didn't. They were naturally large. There was a birthmark, a dark purple patch of skin on her neck, just over her collar bone, that was much lighter than half her skin colour and much darker than than the rest. She was a piece of art all by herself. I wasn't sure what to think when I realized I was simply mesmerized by her uniqueness.

"Thanks," I choked finally.

"No problem. Have a good day!" Her smile was so wide, I thought her face might split.

"Yeah... I'll try."

——

I didn't enjoy living or driving in Vancouver, but I decided that it would probably be a lot better than some other places. Winters were cold and summers were blistering, thanks to the fact that I didn't own a single pair of shorts, and the city was growing so fast, you could blink and find a new apartment building. When I stepped outside my apartment every morning and night, I took a moment to absorb my surroundings. There was usually a woman who sat out on her porch above me for dinner. In the mornings, a neighbour always left to walk his dog.

Inside my humble abode, life was simple: get dressed in the mornings, eat two eggs, and be out the door by eight. At night, I would eat beans or soup, whichever my eyes caught first in the cupboard, and I would be in bed by eleven. The decorations were kept minimal and quiet in colour. A single armchair sat in the living room. There was little food in the refrigerator, but it would have rotted if it existed. My walls were creamy and the floors were aged, white tile. The first thing that was turned on when I entered my home was the television. Then the coffee maker was set to boil the day-old coffee grounds that I decided could be used a second time.

The only things new about today was the little book that I placed on the kitchen counter and the second-hand laptop I had bought the day before sitting beside it.

As soon as they were set there, I lost my interest. Instead, I opted for a shower.

There were some things I liked about showers, other things I didn't. Some nights, they reminded me of when I would give myself baths in the small tub she placed in our living room in 1864. Other days, I imagined that bucket of bone-chilling water that was thrown over new recruits after their first days on the battlefield in 1940–or it was thrown over the survivors, at least.

Was I lucky to have survived two wars? Sure. Was I lucky to still be alive now?

I still hadn't decided.