books!” She pointed at the shelves. “And even worse”—she whipped around to face Eddie—“he ignored you completely. You’re sitting right there, looking all regal, and he doesn’t say a thing. What kind of person can ignore a cat?”
I knew how she felt, but professionalism dictated that I keep my opinions about patrons to myself. It would be best if I didn’t have any opinions at all, but since I was still living and breathing, I didn’t see that happening.
The sound of multiple pairs of footsteps came across the parking lot. Even before the feet reached the stairs, a woman’s voice called up, “Is Eddie here?”
“He sure is,” Thessie said.
The middle-aged woman, followed by another middle-aged woman, a grandmotherly type, and two preadolescent girls, bounded aboard the bookmobile. “Hello, Bookmobile Lady,” the first woman said, grinning. “And good morning, Bookmobile Girl. We’re going to need a bunch of books, but first we need our Eddie fix.”
All five brushed past us on their way to Eddie’s perch. He graciously allowed their petting, and even lifted his chin while the youngest girl scratched him.
Thessie elbowed me. “Look at that. A month ago, that first lady brought her sister to see Eddie, remember? Then they brought their daughters, and now they brought their mother. Eddie is increasing circulation. Tell that to Mr. Rangel.”
I reached out, picked an Eddie hair off a bookshelf, and handed it to her.
“Well, sure,” she said, putting it in her pocket, “there’s a little bit of a downside.”
I stooped, picked another Eddie hair off the floor, and handed that to her, too.
“Um, Bookmobile Lady?” The grandmotherly woman was poised at my elbow. “Can you help me find a good book?”
“Anything in particular?” Historical novels, I guessed. Maybe a romance.
“Something scary,” she said with relish. “
Silence of the Lambs
,
The Shining
, you know the kind. What do you have that’ll scare the pants off me?”
I smiled. I loved being a librarian. Absolutely loved it.
After I showed her the bookmobile’s small horror section, I helped her elder daughter find the biographies and the granddaughters find the Amish fiction. While I showed the other daughter where the mysteries lived, I overheard Thessie greet a new arrival. I listened to a male request for anything on the Civil War with half an ear, Thessie’s directional response, and his subsequent request a few minutes later, which was to borrow two books even though he didn’t have a library card.
“What do you mean?” he asked Thessie. “The guy I saw in the parking lot said he didn’t have to use a card to check out his wife’s stuff. Why do I need one?”
The granddaughters came up to me, their arms piled high with books to be checked out. I didn’t hear Thessie’s response, but whatever she said resulted in the guy heaving a loud sigh and walking out with heavy, dragging feet.
At the end of the forty-five minutes, when they’d allleft, I shut the door and Thessie flopped herself onto the carpeted step that served as both seating and as a step stool to access the higher books.
“Wow, what was with these first two guys?” she asked. “It must be crabby day for men, or something. And that younger one, the guy about your age who wanted to check out books without a library card, did you see? He was wearing socks with sandals.” She gave a fake shudder. “That’s, like, the worst.”
I’d been busy with the Friends of Eddie and hadn’t seen anything but the back of the man’s head. “Oh, I don’t know. He could have been barefoot and tracked in cow manure.”
Thessie snorted a laugh. “Gross. You’re right, that would have been worse.”
“Close the vents, will you?” I asked. “We need to get moving if I’m going to get you back on time.”
• • •
Fifteen minutes later, I dropped Thessie off at her car. She was spending a large chunk of the summer with her
I knew how she felt, but professionalism dictated that I keep my opinions about patrons to myself. It would be best if I didn’t have any opinions at all, but since I was still living and breathing, I didn’t see that happening.
The sound of multiple pairs of footsteps came across the parking lot. Even before the feet reached the stairs, a woman’s voice called up, “Is Eddie here?”
“He sure is,” Thessie said.
The middle-aged woman, followed by another middle-aged woman, a grandmotherly type, and two preadolescent girls, bounded aboard the bookmobile. “Hello, Bookmobile Lady,” the first woman said, grinning. “And good morning, Bookmobile Girl. We’re going to need a bunch of books, but first we need our Eddie fix.”
All five brushed past us on their way to Eddie’s perch. He graciously allowed their petting, and even lifted his chin while the youngest girl scratched him.
Thessie elbowed me. “Look at that. A month ago, that first lady brought her sister to see Eddie, remember? Then they brought their daughters, and now they brought their mother. Eddie is increasing circulation. Tell that to Mr. Rangel.”
I reached out, picked an Eddie hair off a bookshelf, and handed it to her.
“Well, sure,” she said, putting it in her pocket, “there’s a little bit of a downside.”
I stooped, picked another Eddie hair off the floor, and handed that to her, too.
“Um, Bookmobile Lady?” The grandmotherly woman was poised at my elbow. “Can you help me find a good book?”
“Anything in particular?” Historical novels, I guessed. Maybe a romance.
“Something scary,” she said with relish. “
Silence of the Lambs
,
The Shining
, you know the kind. What do you have that’ll scare the pants off me?”
I smiled. I loved being a librarian. Absolutely loved it.
After I showed her the bookmobile’s small horror section, I helped her elder daughter find the biographies and the granddaughters find the Amish fiction. While I showed the other daughter where the mysteries lived, I overheard Thessie greet a new arrival. I listened to a male request for anything on the Civil War with half an ear, Thessie’s directional response, and his subsequent request a few minutes later, which was to borrow two books even though he didn’t have a library card.
“What do you mean?” he asked Thessie. “The guy I saw in the parking lot said he didn’t have to use a card to check out his wife’s stuff. Why do I need one?”
The granddaughters came up to me, their arms piled high with books to be checked out. I didn’t hear Thessie’s response, but whatever she said resulted in the guy heaving a loud sigh and walking out with heavy, dragging feet.
At the end of the forty-five minutes, when they’d allleft, I shut the door and Thessie flopped herself onto the carpeted step that served as both seating and as a step stool to access the higher books.
“Wow, what was with these first two guys?” she asked. “It must be crabby day for men, or something. And that younger one, the guy about your age who wanted to check out books without a library card, did you see? He was wearing socks with sandals.” She gave a fake shudder. “That’s, like, the worst.”
I’d been busy with the Friends of Eddie and hadn’t seen anything but the back of the man’s head. “Oh, I don’t know. He could have been barefoot and tracked in cow manure.”
Thessie snorted a laugh. “Gross. You’re right, that would have been worse.”
“Close the vents, will you?” I asked. “We need to get moving if I’m going to get you back on time.”
• • •
Fifteen minutes later, I dropped Thessie off at her car. She was spending a large chunk of the summer with her
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