Boil the Wolverines
Jimmy Doogan pushed the cart down the stacks, trying to find the cookbooks. The reference librarian said they were right over here. Biggest section. Can't miss it. But he went up and down every section of the nonfiction collection and could not find them. He stopped near the biographies at the end to look out the window.
The library was a small branch known for the river view against the forest. Jimmy wished he was out playing baseball on such a pretty sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky, perfect weather. Multiple people were out on the library's deck area with their morning coffees and laptops. Some had books and magazines.
All the books on the cart had a little yellow slip of paper in them. When he found the right place, rather than putting them right side up Jimmy was supposed to lay them down on their spine. That way the reference librarian could check if they were in the right place. Only for the first week, they said. Nonfiction could be tough for those new to working in a library. Jimmy thought it was a little insulting, but then he saw some call numbers were damn near math equations with how many digits there were. So he went slow, pretty sure he could figure it out and do right. As if anyone expected much of him.
"Jimmy?" A man's voice said from not too far away.
Jimmy turned around to see the reference librarian waving at him. Alan, he said to call him, but Jimmy had to call him Mr. Taylor. He had known the man's son, playing baseball together since little league. Last year Jason Taylor had damn near blown up the chemistry lab, and Mr. Taylor had to come talk to the principal. Mr. Taylor had come to the school wearing the same Ole Miss ball cap, sweatshirt, and jeans that he was wearing now at the reference desk.
At the reference desk, Mr. Taylor was talking to a large man in a red shirt that had the letters "DILF" in green right across the chest. Jimmy tried not to stare.
"Mr. Taylor?" Jimmy said.
Mr. Taylor held out a small card. "Do you mind getting this book for this gentleman? I'm alone on the desk and watching the computer lab." He motioned to the dozen or so people sitting in front of computers. One man had a bag of chips not so hidden in his jacket and crumbs across the table and keyboard.
Jimmy said sure and took the card, seeing the numbers "599.766 PR."
"It's a book about wolverines by Augustus Pratt. The animal," Mr. Taylor said.
Turning back to the stacks, Jimmy pulled on what he had learned. Animal books. Those were over near the front middle of the collection, right near where the old guy in the blue jacket was sleeping in a chair. Jimmy had shelved two books about rottweilers and a giraffe book that morning.
At the right place, the end of the shelf said "400-629," Jimmy found his way blocked by a giant stroller, a toddler pulling books from the shelf and letting them fall, and the behind of a woman bent over and waggling at him. The woman was also pulling books from the shelf, putting them back with a vengeance reserved for hammering nails into the coffin of an enemy. Jimmy checked again he was in the right place and decided to try the other side of the aisle.
The woman was blocking that side as well. She was right where the book ought to be. The toddler had also moved, now on this side. The little creature grinned up at him from under platinum blonde curls and dropped a book. The small hands reached for another, gripped it strong, and pulled it off and down to the carpet.
Jimmy squatted down to pick up the books the child had dropped. The toddler seemed alarmed by this, stepping back and falling. The blonde hair became more white as the face became red. The eyes squinted and the mouth opened to pull in a deep breath. Instead of a wail, the child let out a deep sigh and began to weep as if in mourning.
"It's okay," Jimmy said. "The books are all okay."
"What did you do to my angel?" said the woman. She squared up and stood tall over Jimmy. She had the same blonde hair but from a bottle and a blue shirt that read "GILF."
"Your child was in the way dropping books," Jimmy said.
"My special angel better not be hurt. Not hurt at all. Where is Greg? Greg? Baby, are you okay?" the woman said. She was talking to two people at once: the child and Greg, who was not there.
Jimmy had a flash of the man in the DILF shirt. "I think he's at the reference desk."
Gilf had the toddler in her grasp, shoving the child into the stroller. She moved herself around the stroller to the handles, all the time saying "Greg" to the empty air and "It's okay, baby angel, we'll take care of the bad man." Jimmy noticed the child was no longer crying. Small hands reached from the stroller to the books on the shelves. Gilf tried to roll the stroller back away from Jimmy, but too many books blocked the wheels. She kicked at them, but then turned to Jimmy.
"Get out of my way," she said.
Gilf shoved the stroller toward Jimmy, running over multiple books. He backed up and tripped, but used the momentum to roll out of the way. He had done the same thing in practice the other day, catching a fly ball and rolling to get back up and throw to second base. The woman lumbered past him and away.
Looking down, Jimmy saw one of the books on the floor was "Wolverines: The Meanest Mustelidae" by Augustus Pratt. He checked the paper still clutched in his hand against the call number on the book. He found it.
Jimmy stacked the books on the floor on a nearby shelf. He would come back later for them. He peered through the stacks while going the opposite way than the woman. She was gone. He walked a long path around the building, keeping an eye out for the blue GILF shirt and the red DILF shirt. Circling around to get a view of the reference desk, Jimmy saw no one but Mr. Taylor there.
Jimmy walked over to the desk. He handed the book to Mr. Taylor, the man smiling at him. "Everything okay?" Mr. Taylor said.
"There he is," said Gilf. She stepped from behind a book display where she had been standing with Dilf and the little one in the stroller. The child had what looked like a shoe string dangling from their mouth. Gilf began ranting about how Jimmy had attacked her and her child.
Mr. Taylor listened with a serene look on his face. The model of calm, he listened and nodded his head. He waited until she had begun to lower her voice and said, "We have the book you were looking for."
Gilf saw the book and turned a darker shade of red. "You been holding that the whole time I went over hell and high water? That boy hid the book and taunted me with it? Git him, Daddy!"
Dilf stepped forward, made a guttural noise in his throat, and reached out a hand for Jimmy. Jimmy stepped back. The man came at him, both hands up now grasping. Jimmy pivoted on one foot and launched himself forward. He had beaten everyone on the team at sprints, and he would get away from this grunting giant. He ran into the closest stacks, turning at the end of the row and going down two, turning down that one. Baiting the larger man into committing into going one way so Jimmy could get farther away going another.
Someone from far away shouted, "No running in the library!"
Behind him he could hear the grunting and heaving breaths. The man was close. Jimmy put on a burst of speed, juking behind different shelves and trying to keep an eye on the man. He felt like that guy in the story trapped in a maze while a bull chased him. Jimmy felt like he had run a mile when he stopped at the windows and looked out.
The sky was dark. No streetlights filled the view. A mountain loomed in the distance lit by a full moon.
"What the fuck?" he said, wondering where the trees and river and sun had gone.