It was what happened on the steps that struck her as odd. He seemed to be having a hard time judging the distance to each step. He would take a step, pull his glasses down his nose, look over them then take the next step. On the final step he failed to perform the same operation and tripped sending him falling. Rather than hitting the concrete as expected, he reacted with cat like reflexes, regained his balance without the use of the cane. Once secure that he was steady, he put his weight back on the cane, bent over and proceeded through the main doors.
The incident hung in her thoughts for only a minute or two chalking it up to her father’s favorite saying, ‘It takes all kinds’, before her thoughts returned to the beauty of the day and the happiness she was feeling. She wanted to remember the way she felt right at that moment, capture it, bottle it up along with the sunshine’s comforting rays before she had to return to her duties inside.
Earlier in the day the burglar had tossed numerous ideas around. Perhaps he should just use the Internet to help him hone his ideas and provide new ones, after all he’d been told to be creative, however, ‘creative’ was not on his resume. Breaking into a home without detection, yes it was on there, not getting caught was on there, but breaking into a home, not getting caught and making a statement for all to see, that was definitely not included in his skill set. He’d had second thoughts about using the Internet; it would be traceable. All they’d need was his list of searches in conjunction with his IP address and they’d be knocking on his door. He’d seen it happen before and didn’t want to be a part of that.
Most of the morning he wrote list after list of what he thought were good ideas only to come full circle with the understanding that most of the schemes sucked. After the press and the police had turned his first outing into a bit of a laughing matter, giving some phantom college student the credit for his well orchestrated crime, he needed something with some pizzazz. Something that says ‘Holy Shit’ to the unsuspecting public, something that will really get their attention without drawing undue attention to himself or the ultimate goal. He obviously needed some help and he knew the trip he’d planned for the library must take place, however, he didn’t want to go as himself just in case they had security cams scattered about. It had been years since he’d visited a public library and he had no idea what to expect, except for an old maid behind the counter and dusty books on the shelf.
Several options for a makeshift disguise presented themselves but he settled on a Gulf War vet with a back injury. His father’s old cane would suffice as a prop and an old baggy, green army issue jacket would complete the ruse. To enhance the look he filled his hands with hair gel and smoothed it through his straight black hair, pulling it back, exposing his forehead and uncovering his ears in the process. Perfect, he had thought, looking in the mirror, and to top it off he pulled a pinch of chewing tobacco from a tin his father had left behind and put it between his cheek and gum.
“Not so bad,” he thought, as the juices filled his mouth and he swallowed.
Big mistake! He couldn’t get to the toilet fast enough and he’d spewed tobacco and his breakfast all over the bathroom floor. It had taken him until almost noon to get things cleaned up and his disguise completed again minus the tobacco. Instead he settled on an old pair of glasses, also left behind by his father, who used them for reading in his later years. They made his eyes look funny in the mirror, kind of magnified and larger than life but he could manage to see through them well enough to get around. The distance vision was poor so he wouldn’t be able to drive with them on but the near acuity was acceptable so he shouldn’t draw any undue attention to himself, especially in a place where everyone would be reading. Before leaving on the appointed mission he stood in front of the mirror admiring the work he’d done.
“Me own mum wouldn’t recognize me,” he uttered under his breath in a funny little accent, and with cane in hand he had headed for the Valdosta Public Library.
Blanche returned to the main lobby of the library to find a donation sign positioned squarely in the middle of the desk with a canister nearby to accept cash and coins. She chuckled lightly before addressing the items filling her ‘to do’ boxes. Seated at the desk she could see a fair portion of the library but failed to see where the green clad fellow had gone.
“Must be upstairs. Hope he didn’t hurt himself,” she thought, returning her attention to the damaged books she was mending with strapping tape on the counter with the assistance of one of the young men from the school program.
She noted that he was having a very difficult time focusing on the project at hand and made a mental note not to wear this sweater again. Too distracting at work but would possibly work wonders under the right circumstances. Once the few mending jobs were completed she excused the young man with the wandering eyes and made her way around the library, checking on the facility and making sure that all was well. The later afternoon patrons tended to be younger and that was the case today. In the far, back corner of the lower level a group of college students were huddled together working on term papers.
Must have been a group project as each appeared to be throwing his or her own ideas into the ring and a cute young redhead was moderating. Blanche approached the group surrounding one of the longer tables, stood at the shorter end and tried to get their attention to no avail. Placing both hands on the flat surface she leaned forward extending her torso closer to the cluster of youth and drummed her nails on the tabletop until they all looked in her direction and stopped talking.
She quietly whispered in a hushed tone, “I know you’re working on something as a group but we’ll need you to keep it down just a bit more than you are now, okay.”
The students responded with a flurry of responses indicating that they understood and would be quieter. A good looking guy sitting next to the redhead must have paid too much attention to the shapely librarian and as Blanche turned to walk away, the redhead gave him a swift elbow in the ribs and a look of scorn for good measure.
Working her way up to the second floor it appeared to be deserted except for a lone patron wearing a green army jacket seated in front of a computer monitor and a stack of books scattered on the table beside him. Blanche's curiosity was peaked so she wandered through the upper level appearing to be busy with adjusting books on shelves, straightening things up as she went, gradually working her way closer to the unusual stranger.
He seemed intent on what he was reading, both on the screen and the books, as he thumbed through them. The curious librarian eventually found herself directly behind him only separated by a bookshelf with his back to her. She quietly slid a handful of books aside and removed a few others to clear a path so that she could see what he was doing. He wouldn’t be the first that they’d had to reprimand for viewing illicit content with a library computer but that was not the case here. She could see the books stacked near him and each appeared to be crime related,
The individual was also working with a notepad he held on his lap, periodically making notes then returning the pad, out of the view of others that may be passing by. It did not appear he had any idea that Blanche was behind him as he googled ‘bizarre crime stories’ and ‘shocking crime stories’.
“Must be a lover of non-fiction crime genre,” Blanche thought. “I wonder if he could use some direction.”
She left her hiding place and stepped around the end of the shelving unit to stand directly at the side of the stranger. In her most professional librarian whispered voice she said, “Is there anything I can help you with?”
It became readily apparent that he’d had no idea that the librarian was even on the same floor as himself, let alone right next to him. He bounced in the chair as if it had been electrified, sending his notepad skidding across the floor and the mouse cord being yanked from the back of the computer tower. Blanche reacted with a slight giggle but maintained her librarian demeanor in the process.
“I’m so sorry, I thought you knew I was standing next to you,” she lied.
“Holy hell lady, you about gave me a heart attack. You work here or something?” the disheveled reader reasoned.
“Yeah, I’m in charge around here in the evenings. I saw you were looking up some non-fiction material. Is there anything I can help you find?”
“No, I uh, I think I’ve got what I came for but thanks for the offer.” He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander up and down the frame of the attractive librarian.
Blanche looked directly in his eyes through the thick glasses that made his iris's look like large, green saucers. It was somehow strange that he was looking at her but not engaging her eyes directly, however, she couldn’t help but notice when those over-sized saucers looked her up and down, then came to rest back on her face
