I made it past the guard outside using the power of persuasion...or at least I think. The view in the library was outstanding. The library wasn't anything at all like the one in the outer sector. I mean, that's obvious. But, in a different sense. The library wasn't anything like a library. There holograms that showcased amazing moments in history, special places in books, and other spectacles. Each and every book was compiled into thousands of bookshelves. The interior was rustic and old-fashioned but the technology and the details were top of the line! I think I would stay here for the rest of my life if I had the chance. As I was looking around, I saw a sign that said, 'Public Library closing in three hours'. So much for living in here forever.
I strolled across the wooden floor and stopped at a desk on the far opposite side of the entrance. There was a middle-aged woman working the desk with an old man behind her. The woman was reading some type of sci-fi novel while the old man behind her was reorganizing stacks of books. As I neared, I overheard their conversation: The old man said, "Susan, you better help me reorganize all of these books over here!" He pointed to the piles upon piles of books, novels, comics, and magazines that were stacked on their circular desk.
The woman, Susan, was wearing a flowery top and chewing on some gum when she replied in an annoyed manner, "Or what, Stan? Fire me? You know you can't do that, and the higher-ups won't bother taking a look at me. Why can't you just chill for a second or two? We've been here all day and no one actually comes to check out the books anyway."
Stan grunted, "You! The new generation are such slackers! You guys don't have any work ethic or a shred of responsibilities!"
She retorted, "Maybe that's why I don't have wrinkles all over my face." Stan went back to shoving his nose in the books.
Susan noticed me walking over and put her book down. "What do you need, hon?" she asked politely.
I gave her a nice smile and asked her, "Do you happen to have any books on arithmetic?" I might as well learn something while I'm here.
She looked at me weirdly and said, "You mean MATH?" The last part of the sentence came out in a drawl.
I nodded my head. "Yeah, math."
Susan scratched her head. "It's been a while since we heard anyone ask us that. He, Stan, you have any idea where the math section is in the library?" she yelled.
Stan came over and said, "That depends. What is looking for? Algebra, Calculus, Statistics, Euclidian Geometry, Number theory?"
I looked into his cataracts and said, "Do you have a section on combinatorics?"
Stan chuckled, "Be my guest, but it's gonna take a lifetime."
"That's the plan."
I think Susan fell out of the loop when she asked, "Say, why aren't you in school?"
I slowly looked at her. Shit! What do I say?... "He's probably here to actually learn something! The schools these days can't teach shit! Back in my day, we would learn the theory and the application; we would actually find it fascinating. Nowadays, it's just a bunch of test papers being shoved into the kids' faces!" Nice save Stan.
I nodded my head in agreement. "The curriculum moves too fast and there are too many distractions to actually learn something," I added some oil to the fire so that Stan would take over for me. Which, he did.
He tugged me by the arm and gestured me to follow him. "C'mon, I'll teach some tricks that I picked over the decades."
***
When Stan and I located the combinatorics section, he picked out some books for a beginner like me. He then talked about the beauty of it, and how it could be applied in real life. The way he lectured and drew random things in the air really...connected with me. I suddenly asked him a question, "Were you ever a professor?"
Stan looked over at me with his roman nose reflecting some light. He said, "Actually, still am. I only teach a few classes every week, so I have a lot of free time."
I was surprised, but I believed it. What could the old man gain by lying anyway?
We continued to dwell on the topic at hand for two more hours. I think Susan at the desk was talking to someone, which I had assumed was George. As the clock ticked closer to the closing time, Stan ran off to finish his job. I was left alone in the mathematics wing of the library. I strolled around for a bit, looking at all the books that could have been mine if I was born to a more affluent family. I sadly laughed. What a thought.
I soon grabbed the combinatorics book that Stan was showing to me and head to where ever George and Bill were. I guess somewhere in the modern classics, and I was right. They were both sitting juxtaposed surrounded by beanbag chairs and a fluffy carpet. The bookshelves that encircled them were filled to the brim with fantasy books. Dragons, knights, princesses, wizards, and witches all stood right next to their respective shelves. Walking in, I grabbed myself a beanbag and tossed next to George. Bill hastily looked around and sighed in relief when he saw that it was me. I made fun of him, "Totally not suspicious acting." Bill turned red with embarrassment. George was not part of the conversation; he was absorbed in the world of fantasia. I snapped my fingers next to his ears. He jumped a little and said, "What? I was at the GOOD part!"
"What's your plan now genius?" I asked him.
He set his book down and walked over to one of the shelves. He called Bill over and they moved to opposite sides. They nudged the bookshelf a little and made a small but squeeze-through-able crack on one of the edges. "This is my plan," George pointed at the crevice, "Bill and I turned two of the shelves at an angle on the other side, so we should have enough space to sleep in the middle of the triangle-shaped area."
I was still skeptical. "Wouldn't the librarians notice the magical movement of the shelves?"
George shrugged, "That's where you need to trust in fate a little." Bill and George squeezed through the crack and beckoned me to come inside. I sighed. Fuck it. I compressed myself through and nudged the shelf until it touched the other one. We should be mostly invisible to the naked eye.
We made ourselves comfortable by laying down our packs on the ground to make pillows. Other, than that the floor was already pretty soft. It sure beat the bed that I had sleep on back in the orphanage. I think the twins also agreed as they snuggled in sleepily. We slept in a weird pattern, to say the least. Since the 'room' was a triangle, we positioned ourselves in a human two-dimensional triangle. My feet faced Bill, Bill's feet faced George, and George's feet faced my head. The space in the middle was where we set up our little lantern in case of emergencies. It was like camping...if camping included sleeping in a public library surrounded by bookshelves.
I couldn't sleep right away, so I volunteered to be the lookout. I took out a piece of paper and began to write a letter to the Hernándezs. I took out my prepaid card and tucked it into the envelope that I would send later. I knew it was a stupid move since I wouldn't have any left in case of...well, anything. But, I also knew that they would need it more than me. Feeding three kids was not a small task, even if they had a bakery. I wrote the letter; I described some of the things that happened and some of the people that I had met. Truly, it was a way for me to reflect on what happened in the past day. A day. It has only been a single day, yet it felt like a whole week passed. Time and tide wait for no one they say. But, they also don't give any answers as to why.
I tucked the note and the credits card under my shirt and took out the book I snatched from the library. Might as well burn the time.
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Micheal Grey POV:
We finally made it to the hotel that I had booked a couple of weeks ago. The view of Ceandor Island was perfect; I could see all the habitats and with the help of my vision enhancement drug I would be able to see most of the competitors from the balcony.
I went back inside and stretched my arms and legs. The hotel room was great. I mean, it should be great. I paid two hundred thousand per night for this.
I hopped on my waterbed and waited patiently for the water to steady beneath me. I looked up at the ceiling and saw a giant aquarium. Thousands of fish swam around. They were all living their best lives: being fed individually, being cleaned, being groomed, and being taken care of. A small red-scaled fish stopped right above me. I stared down at me with its round, fishy eyes. I stared back. We locked our gazes. The other fish swam behind it. Pushing and shoving. It was an amazing sight. Rainbow-like colors dazzling in the brightly lit tank. I whispered very quietly to the redfish, "Did you...ever get the chance to see what freedom is?" I didn't get an answer. The redfish swam away leaving me to ponder this on my own.