SE-A Short Story 001: A Librarian's Keeping

[Takuya]

A Librarian's Keeping



This is not a short story. I wish I hadn't put those words in the title. There are things... faltering continuation.
>_< I'm stuck at the moment with this story. The following events I have in mind are just so hard to put in.



Introduction

Books again. But shelving books was no bother for the librarian. He positioned them easy and contentedly. The Scribes had been librarians of the family in charge of the Alnwick district for seven centuries. The English morning presented itself as fresh and dark. Scribe got up and stretched his spidery fingers in the same manner a rattlesnake rattles its tail, in slow motion, each finger individually. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, he walked towards the kitchen with a slouch and clacking of shoes. “Oh yeah,” thought Jack, “bacon.” speeding up. The halls of the castle-mansion twist and turn to their master’s whim, traversable correctly only by the master, maintenance, kitchen staff, and the Scribes. Guests never could figure out the winds and were told to follow specific instructions and reminders to their destinations. At this time the master was out of the district to handle with other “responsibilities” he explained was in his department. The kitchen staff still slept while Jack arrived with only the sound of his steps, the whistling of the birds… and an exited appetite.

6:30 in the morning. A house sparrow found Jack running up to a refrigerator, clasping both hands to its white handles, opening both its doors, looking at the contents in the right side of it, closing that side’s door, then inspecting the contents of the left side – the freezer, then excitedly snatching, with an impish grin, sparkling eyes, a package of bacon before ruffling its feathers and flying away for its own meal. He thought to himself, some thoughts forming into sounds:

“Ah, but you know,” Spoke a confident echo.

“Yeah.”

“Then again…” One of the sounds.

“Ok.”

Like an old couple squabbling. Stroking his dark hair, he put ten pieces of thinly sliced ham onto a microwave safe plate from a cabinet right across the ‘fridge before putting the plate into the much-too-big cube. Three-twenty-five. Jack washed the melted fat from his fingers and strokes his hair again, staring out a door-window. A pause in time. He was staring at a lane. The lane had darkened from last night’s drizzle. It was still drizzling. Jack scanned the trees, down at their centers, appreciating the color of green. The interest had faded away as he rolled his eyes “subconsciously” he said, marching feet across the stone towards the microwave…

A gruff man appeared, walking in from a side of the kitchen entrance, wearing a white T-shirt under blue farmer overalls – gruff in words, though his voice was close. He was skinny – with some splatters of paint.

“Put five more pieces there willya?” He said.

“…” Jack seemed to ignore the man’s order. A time passed. It seemed too long for any sane man to tolerate. “Whatever you say.” he said, and loaded 5 more pieces into the oven. One-two-zero.

The man settled himself in the kitchen table, feet on a corner, hands behind his head. Looking up at part of the stone ceiling.

“You know Jack, the master’s been comin’ around less and less these days. Been worryin’ the staff. Would you by any perchance know anything about this?”

The librarian was cracking size A eggs onto a large pan handling sizzling oil. He flicked the shells into a garbage bin within a cabinet. He made a face people would glance once and feel guilty for disturbing his peace.

“Well… he hadn’t really given much to think on.” He made an awkward expression with his eyebrows… the kind a contestant makes when the chili had become unbearable… just out of Merv’s sight. “But Merv, shouldn’t you be worrying about tending the place, and the orders? That goes to the rest of your crew as well.”

A pause. The microwave oven beeped four times and Jack pulled out the plate – his hands were able to adapt to the usual hands-burning heat of microwaved plates – aware of Merv’s eyes on him. He placed the bacon with the eggs, opening the ‘fridge another time to check for oranges, as if they had appeared out of thin air while he wasn’t looking.

Merv observed him. “Well, that’s your opinion, bub. But the staff’s got other things on their mind. So spill it. What’d he say?”

Prim clothed, spider-fingers Jack Scribe took out the food and prepared himself for a short speech.

The guardian-servants took on their stances. They talked. Conversing, planning, and the sounds fade.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -




Chapter 1




A Strange Welcome

It's all in how you word things, in your head. We think using words in our preferred language consciously and subconsciously. A handful of words can make a child glee with laughter, induce doubt in plans, they can make a happy man cry, having learned terrible truths, they can anger, heal, and, sometimes, they can kill; they can change people for better or worse.

Right now Jack was instilling fear into a band of revolutionary squirrels -- they chose to live in the mansion, going against the reasoning of their mothers and chieftains to live in the trees of our ancestors -- with words threatening punishment and possible extinction of their family. The squirrels saw it as a form of song. Jack, taking his warnings further, threw menacing glares and jumps. It seemed to the revolutionaries that they won't be able to continue living peacefully in the mansion as long as they planned. Also, the throwing of the acorns was fun.

~ --- ~

Mervin found himself pacing in the afternoon. Of course, with his job as the "keep-upper" of the mansion, he does much pacing otherwise. But this was a different pace, quick and back and forth, coupled with glances all over his line of sight. He was worrying.

.……….

Was the man right? He never said anything about what would happen today.

The common life you have will change.

It says nothing about how or when, exactly. There has been a brownout. This is a change in my day – but what does that mean about my life? About the future? Erm.

“Jack?”

“Hrm?” I turned to the sound.

A surprised face. “Oh, hello! Sorry, I mistook you for someone else.” Her face was pixie-ish. I’ll never forget that face.

I grinned. “Oh that’s all right. Happens all the time. Who was it you were looking for? Jack? Might I help you look for him?”

.……….

"Saying things like 'I know' won't help you here."

Merv sat suspiciously as Jack walked to the table. He was walking with surety, looking like a rogue for every step in the small kitchen. The curator sat and watched indifferently.

Jack sat down at a chair across Mervin, staring down at the polished brown for a moment. It had gold tarnished borders. "He left scarcely a note nor warning. There was only a look of cheers on his face as he left."

"Thas' weird. Nothing to clue you in to where he was going?" Merv looked out the entrance of the kitchen, at an expensive table in the chandelier-lit the hall. There was a stirring.

[Stitch Fluffy]

Your sense of creativity is fluent, and your words are eyecandy for readers like myself.
It'd be funny to even say 'eyecandy' because there isn't a picture to admire, but words seem to draw a picture--and that for me serves as eyecandy.

Wonderfully written.
I adore.

Update when you have the chance.
I'll follow loyally! :D

[Takuya]

:V :D That made me smile uncontrollably. At school. Then I remembered I had a reputation to keep up of not smiling XD

This is my first literature work in public so etc., bla ba bleh.

Later,
Square-EnixAqua(lolwut. old name.)

[All-Star Gamer]

It's Good. But I think the only thing to work on is to seperate who is talking at the moment. Start a new line whenever somebody different starts to talk.

And what exactly did you want when you posted? It sounded like you wanted something more.

[Snow Candy]

Wow, that's a good story. I think I like Jack. XD And um, yeah, just need to work on the quotes and who's saying it and such.