If people would ask, what place does she always goes to in this institute, she would answer – the library. Do not mistake her as a bookworm. Not even close to any fictional essay enthusiast that her little sister so willingly sacrificed her night just to find the end of such repeated endeavor. She just cannot understand the pull Lily found in those novels. She did try to understand but after so many books she read, the lesser she comes to understand.
Then why she likes to go to the library? There was only one explanation. It was to find a book that supposedly a carbon copy of the book that she had, hidden away inside her wardrobe. It was given to her when it was already old and worn. Many of its pages were hard to read and some of it was missing either because it was ripped, burned or ate by a Moth. Even the musty smell of it gave Lily a fright whenever she came to her attic room while she was reading it.
The library had become her most frequent visits on the second day of the first week of school this year. Her class had recently ended this morning and she had a gap to fill before the next one in the evening. While she still had some time on her own (Gitto was scolded by her mother this morning because he skipped class yesterday and was given a warning for doing so), it was better than she spent her time searching another copy of the book.
She had searched most parts of the library but there were still more than she did not cover. He had a hunch that the book might be a limited publication as the book itself did not contain much information about its author or the year publication. Furthermore, the library itself was a five-level building which includes deep maze-like rows of shelves. If she had some magic, it would be easy to call upon a book yet it would be possible if she had complete knowledge of the book.
She climbed up the big spiral stairs towards the fourth level. This level holds much older books and less concentrated students. The light was dimmed, the curtains were drawn and it was hard to hear any whispering voice. If Gitto would ever think of skipping class, this part of the library would be perfect.
"Hm?"
There was a man, lay down between the shelf and she had nearly stepped on that man face if she had not noticed it. She squatted beside the man. His face was serene. Like he had found a safe haven. Slowly she hovered her fingers below the man's nostril. She could feel the air that he breathed.
"Not dead yet," she whispered.
"Usually when you saw people lie down like this, they would think that 'ah, he is sleeping', not 'not dead yet' miss," the man said, his voice was deep and calm. His eyes fluttered open and she saw those pair of eyes that kept on looking her way yesterday.
She blinked. In the dimmed light, that eyes almost black that she had thought that it was Gitto was speaking to her and not this man.
"I'm sorry if I offended you, sir," she offered. It was not her fault for thinking so because he had laid like a dead man in a coffin with both his hand put on top of his belly, his legs were straight and his head was facing upward. She had gone to several wakes and she had seen many sleeping dead were in his position. Moreover, he had that facial expression. Good thing Gitto and her family had taught her basic manners and what to say in a certain situation. Being alexithymia, it was hard for her to keep track of people's sensitivity.
She touched her end fringes and she tried very hard to conceal her face from that man's eyes. He had kept on looking at her face and she was wondering if he saw her face. If he saw her eyes.
He sighed heavily and it seems as though he took all his might to get up and sit. His right hand was supporting his body and his left hand was supporting his head by putting his elbow on the left knee cap. He looked like he might fall right back to his sleeping position if he did not stay still.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Just a minor light head. I was sleeping on the hard floor, that's why," he replied. His eyes flicked to her when he found stability. "Miss Ghotham, right?"
Should she be wary of this man although he was her instructor? What would Gitto say if he knew her situation at the moment? "You know me, sir?"
He laughed. He was amused. "You're popular miss."
"I am?" she questioned herself. To consider her as popular she felt it was rather an exaggeration. She knew that people know her. She was the human doll and Lily Ghotham's sister to boot. For a newcomer, he must have done his homework to know this faraway town small old gossip. Maybe that was why he kept on looking at her yesterday?
"To me, you are." He got up and Stella followed too. Her legs were starting to feel sore for squatting longer than she intended.
"Thank you?" She does not know if his statement was a compliment but she gave him anyway and her offering was replied with a burst of soft laughter. It was hard to understand people and it was easy to trigger them.
"Why?"
He shook his head. He was still laughing.
"Did I amuse you, sir?"
He nodded. "So, what are you doing here miss?"
"To find books, sir."
His crooked smile bloomed. "Ah yes, and... can I know for what miss?"
"For me to pass my Grand Assessment sir."
His body started to shake that he squatted. "Why do you keep calling me sir, miss?"
"You're an instructor, sir."
In the end, he cannot contain his laughter anymore that his deep and rich voice resounded in every corner of the fourth level. His eyes watered. He even slapped the lacquer wood floor and wheezed.
"Sir?" Stella bent her body forward. She fingered her mouth, a sign to stay quiet and be respectful of the library environment.
"Yes. Yes. I'm sorry. I tried very hard you see but I just can't," he said while wiping away his tears. "You're so funny Miss Ghotham."
"I'm not sir," she replied with her monotone voice. "Apparently, in my conclusion, sir, is that you had low-level humor."
"I do miss?"
"Yes."
"You're so blunt," he joked. "Maybe because it was you miss that made me like this and I have to apologize and thank you at the same time. Where's my manner," he mumbled. He stood up and put both his hand in his trousers pocket.
"What I mean to say is that you made my day miss though after this you had to remind me to ask a lot more brilliant questions. I'll anticipate our classes later miss." He smiled; the kind of smile that Gitto always gave to her whenever that boy was happy.
"Then, why do you keep on calling me 'miss', sir?" she asked. She cannot shake the image of her best friend standing in front of her when it was her instructor that stood there.
He paused; thinking. Maybe she caught him off guard.
"Force of habit I guess miss," he answered solemnly. His smiles wavered and his bright cheer she saw before diminished bit by bit. Though he still wore his smile, it was not the same. Gitto was no longer in front of her but it was that man that kept on looking her way yesterday. It was Effan Knight.