by Mac Flynn
I hesitantly took the book and shuddered when my hands grasped the dry, bumpy cover. I tentatively held it between two fingers and hurried to Miss Hamish's office in the back room. We kept the Lost and Found box back there so nobody could swipe anything from it because sometimes we found expensive items like iPods and cell phones. The large transparent plastic box with the words Lost and Found taped on the front sat beneath Miss Hamish's large wooden desk in her bookshelf-and-book-cluttered space.
I was almost to the office door when I ran into an obstacle, namely my coworker and fellow college student, Marvin Murphy. The boy was as dorky as his name, with his pocket protector in his pocket and thick-framed glasses on his nose. His love of books was only exceeded by his ability to annoy me, and right now he did that by standing in my way. He'd just come out of one of the spare rooms and blocked my path to the office door with his cart. His bespectacled eyes caught sight of the strange object in my hands, and he pointed at the book. "What's that?" he asked me.
"A bomb, and if you don't let me put it in the Lost and Found it's going to go off," I warned him.
He frowned. "Talking about bombs isn't a very bright thing to say on campus. You could get into trouble," he told me.
I rolled my eyes. "I'll be sure to watch my language around the speech police, but could you move? I really do need to put this in the Lost and Found." I tried to get around him, but his cart wedged tight against the wall.
"Let me look at it," Marvin commanded. Before I could object or agree, he swiped it from my hand and glanced over the cover. He wrinkled his face. "What's this made out of? Old cardboard?"
I folded my arms and smirked. "Nope, animal skin."
Marvin's face blanched and he quickly held it out to me. "Take it back," he ordered.
I stepped back and furiously shook my head. "No way. Just put it in the Lost box. That's where I was trying to take it, anyway."
"I won't do your work for you, now take it back," he insisted.
I rolled my eyes and nodded at his cart. "I can't. Your cart's in my way, remember?"
Marvin hurriedly shoved the cart back into the room he'd just vacated and tossed me the book. I juggled it in my hands for a moment before I got a good hold and hurried into Hamish's office with Marvin the Ass bringing up the rear. I dragged the Lost box out from beneath her desk and dropped the book into the pile of miscellaneous things already in there. We stood over the box and looked down at the innocent, if grotesque, book.
"What in the world is someone doing leaving something like that in the library?" Marvin wondered.
"Someone shoved it into the drop slot. Maybe they wanted to donate it to us," I suggested.
"What's the book about?" he asked me.
I shrugged. "Don't know. The pages are blank and there was a title on the front page, but Hamish and I couldn't find it the second time I looked."
Marvin raised an eyebrow and cast a disbelieving look at me. "A disappearing title?"
I scowled at him. "It's possible. Maybe somebody made the book up as a prank and the title appears and disappears," I suggested.
He nodded at the book. "Then open it and see if it's there again."
"You open it."
"Maybe it likes you better."
"Maybe it'll like you if you try it."
Marvin rolled his eyes and sighed deeply as though he was dealing with an annoying child. "Very well, I'll be the brave one." He reached down with quivering fingers and flipped open the cover. The first page was blank. He glanced at me with a triumphant grin on his face. "You were saying?"
"I swear there was a title on that page. It said something about darkness in men's hearts. Would I really think up something that sounded that stupid?" I pointed out.
Marvin frowned and stroked his chin. "Perhaps, but what about that darkness part?"
I frowned at the insult, but shrugged. "Like I told you, the title was something about darkness being in men's hearts. Why?"
"I'm not sure, but I swear I've read a similar passage in another book. One of the Forbidden ones on the top floor," he replied.
"Is that supposed to be important?" I wondered.
"It's more than you know about the title," he argued.
"I know way too much about that book already. Why would I want to learn more?" I countered.
Marvin rolled his eyes. "Fine, be stupid. I'm getting back to work before I get in trouble." He stomped out of the room, returned to his cart and pushed it, and himself, into the maze of hallways.
"Of all the thousands of people on campus I'm stuck with the biggest annoying geek-nerd of them all," I muttered. I turned my attention back to the book, and was surprised to find the cover was shut. I didn't remember either of us shutting it. I leaned into the box and gingerly flipped open the cover. My eyes widened when I saw, in bold golden letters, the title I'd glimpsed earlier. "Darkness Residing In the Heart of Man," I reread. I swirled around searching for Marvin or Miss Hamish, but neither were around. "Just my luck," I muttered.
Fortunately, I had a plan, and I wouldn't leave everything completely up to luck. I grabbed a paper and pen, and wrote down the title so I wouldn't forget it again. Then I gingerly grabbed the book with the cover open and dashed out of Miss Hamish's office to the front desk. There I found both my boss and my coworker talking about the latest Librarian Monthly magazine cover story. Riveting stuff. "The title's back!" I exclaimed.
Miss Hamish and Marvin both turned to me with a disapproving glare, and the head librarian put her finger to her lips. "Your indoor voice please, Leslie," Miss Hamish softly ordered.
I screeched to a stop in front of them and sheepishly grinned. "Sorry, but the title came back," I whispered. I held out the title page to them, and the pair peered at the book. I expected their faces to show interest, but there was only confusion. They glanced at each other, and then to me.
"I'm afraid there's nothing there," Hamish told me.
I frowned and quickly turned the book to look at the page. It was blank again. "B-but it was there! I saw it!" The two stared at me with disbelieving looks, but I had further evidence of its existence. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the slip of paper with the name. "I wrote the name down. It said Darkness Residing In the Heart of Man. See?" I handed the slip to Miss Hamish, who frowned and turned it to one side.
"I'm afraid all I see is your poor handwriting and a blank page in a book," Hamish told her as she handed back the paper.
"Maybe next time you should take a picture. It lasts longer," Marvin teased.
Miss Hamish shot him a warning glance, and then looked back to me with a kinder expression. One somebody would give to a person not quite right in the head. "I'm sure you saw something, Leslie, but right now you need to get to work and finish checking in those books. Understood?"
My face fell, and I glanced down at the floor and nodded my head. I understood all too well. Miss Hamish didn't believe me, and neither did Marvin. As much as I didn't like his opinion, I was desperate for someone, anyone to believe me. "I'll get right on it," I promised my boss.
Miss Hamish smiled and gave a quick nod. "Good, now let's all get back to work before this place is overrun with books and malfunctioning printers." I turned away, but another word from my boss stopped me. "And give the book to Marvin to put back in the Lost and Found. The owner might come for it."
Marvin cringed, and I was hurt. I wasn't insane, and I could do something as simple as put the book back. "I can put it back," I insisted.
"And I'd rather not touch that thing," Marvin spoke up.
Miss Hamish looked at us with such a firm, terrifying glare that I quickly handed off the book to Marvin and he hurried off to put the book in the box. I tried to slink away to the return slot and have a good cry at Hamish's lack of faith, but she put a firm hand on my shoulder. I didn't look back so I could hide the tears pooling in my eyes. "Is there something going on you need to tell me about?" she asked me.
"Like what?" I mumbled.
"Like you
're doing drugs," she bluntly suggested.
I whipped my head around and glared at her. "I'm not that stupid," I snapped.
She pursed her lips together and shook her head. "I'm not saying you are, but you've been acting very strange all night. Stranger than usual," she added with a hint of a smile. "Are you sure there isn't something you want to talk to me about?"
I looked her square in the eye. "Positive."
Hamish sighed and let me go. "All right, get back to work before we're up to our necks in returned books."
Chapter 3
I dragged my feet back to the return slot and worked through the mess. My thoughts invariably drifted back to the offending book and its multiple personalities. First it was literate, then it wasn't, then it was again, and then the letters were gone. It showed me its title, but it wouldn't show anyone else. I would have felt flattered if the attention was from a boy, but not from a book. I didn't even know if the book was a guy. I paused and thought over my last, well, thoughts, and shook my head. "Now you're thinking a book's alive?" I scolded myself.
I quashed any further thoughts and sorted through the books until I reached the spot where I'd found the book. There wasn't any note left behind, but I did notice a slip of paper. I grabbed it and unfolded the piece to see there were a few numbers written in a neat hand. "5th, third from bottom, two books from the right," I read aloud.
"Sounds like a bookshelf," a voice behind me commented.
I jumped and turned to find Marvin standing close behind me. "Could you all just please stop scaring me?" I pleaded. He ignored my request and snatched the paper from me. "What the hell? Give that back!" I demanded. I fumbled for the slip, but he stepped back and scrutinized the contents.
"Did this come with the book?" he asked me.
I scowled and turned away to resume the book sorting. "How the hell should I know? It was just laying here," I told him.
"Very interesting," he murmured. I ignored his attention bait and resumed my sorting of the books on my cart. He shuffled and coughed. "How very, very interesting," he repeated.
I sighed, rolled my eyes, and turned back to him. "I give, what's very, very interesting?"
"This slip of paper is old parchment, and as I mentioned before, these numbers seem to refer to a bookshelf," he replied.
"So?" I asked him.
"Don't you see what it means?"
"No, enlighten me."
"It means this piece of paper came from the 5th floor of this library, and refers to a book on a shelf third from the bottom and two books to the right."
I put a blank expression on my face and gave him a golf-clap applause. "Bravo, Sherlock. Now how about you go see if your theory's right and leave me alone?" I suggested.
He rubbed his chin and slowly nodded his head. "I might just do that. During my break, of course."
"Of course," I absently agreed. I turned back, tossed the last few books onto my cart and stood. "And speaking of breaks, if Hamish asks where I am tell her I went on mine." I strolled past him and down the main hall with the intention of burying myself in one of those comfortable couches on the third floor. I couldn't trust the cleanliness of the ones on the second floor. Like all good intentions, mine was ruined by a strange sound from Hamish's office.
I paused and glanced down the hallway that led to her door. The door was partially open, but I couldn't see anyone in there. I walked up to the entrance and peeked inside. Nothing unusual except for the possessed book standing on its bottom on the desk with the cover facing me. Then, with all the creepiness of a haunted house complete with ghosts, lawyers and monsters, the book opened itself.
My mind demanded I scream and run, but my legs had other plans, especially when my eyes fell on the taunting golden letters on the first page. They glowed so bright they flung shadows on the walls, and I found myself walking toward it. A foot from the desk I stopped and my hand reached for the book. The moment my fingers touched the paper I felt a jolt spring from the paper pages and into me. I yelped and knocked the book onto its back. The tingling sensation raced up my fingers and spread through my body like the warmth of a raging fire. My flesh burned with the flames of a sensual need I'd never known. I shuddered and wrapped my arms to myself. I both feared and delighted in these overwhelming emotions. A bright flash of light from the book caught my attention, and I looked at the pages in time to see the title letters swirl and morph into other words: Take me home.
I gasped and stumbled back into a pair of thin arms. It was my worried boss. "What in the world are you doing in here?" she exclaimed in a voice that was most definitely not for library use. She noticed my pale face and looked me over. "Are you all right? What happened?"
"T-that book shocked me and then the words did something," I stuttered. I pointed at the desk, but the book wasn't there. It was down in the box with the cover closed. "B-but it was just there on the desk!"
Miss Hamish made sure I was steady before she stepped forward and snatched the book from the box. My eyes widened and I held out my hand to grab my boss. "Don't touch-!" Miss Hamish grasped the book, and nothing happened. I was dumbfounded.
The head librarian looked over the page, and then to me with a worried expression. "I am very disappointed in you today, Leslie. First you don't answer your pager, then you make up wild stories about this book, and now I find you sneaking into my office to look at it." I opened my mouth to argue, but swooned when a final blast of heat hit me. Hamish put her hand on my shoulder and steaded me. "Are you feeling all right?"
I frowned at the patronizing tone in my boss' voice. "I'm feeling just fine, but there's something wrong with that book. It was standing on its own and the words-"
"There aren't any words here. See?" Miss Hamish held open the book to me and flipped through the pages. They were all blank. "Nothing there. No title, no words, nothing."
"B-but they were there! I swear it!" I felt annoyed, confused, scared, and my body still tingled from the jolt of something that came off that book.
Miss Hamish sighed and put a hand on my shoulder. "Maybe you'd better go home."
"But-"
"This isn't up for debate. Go home," Miss Hamish ordered.
I hung my head and shuffled out of the office to my bag and coat by the exit. I was intercepted by Marvin, who noticed my glum face. "What was all that squawking back there?" he asked me.
"It was nothing," I mumbled. "Finish the book drop for me, will ya? I have to go home." I pushed past him to the rear exit, grabbed my stuff and headed out to my dorm room.
The late-day, crisp autumn sun was a refreshing difference to the stuffy library, but not even the beautiful sky above me could break through the confused and angry thoughts swirling in my head. Was I going insane? Had I imagined the book standing there and opening on its own? Had those words really stared back at me and literally begged me to take it home with me?
I shuddered. No, I hadn't imagined it, or at least not all of it. There was no way I imagined that lustful sensation that raced through my body. I stopped and held up the hand that touched the page. My fingers still tingled, and a warmth still remained just beneath the surface of my quivering flesh. I let out a shuddered breath of air. Such desire and want, and all aimed at me, was both flattering and terrifying. It felt wonderful to be wanted, but it was a book that wanted me.
I shook my head. "Get a hold of yourself, Leslie. That book probably had a ton of drugs stuffed in the pages and you're just seeing and feeling things," I muttered to myself.
My mind was convinced, but my heart felt differently. It beat a joyful tune as I strode onward to my dorm across campus. I was lucky to have one of the new apartment dorms, the type that had all the amenities that most students only dreamed of. There was a kitchen, small living room-dining room mix, and a bedroom and bath. I climbed the three flights to my place, stepped inside, and collapsed on my worn couch. I draped my arm over my eyes and sighed. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't get that book off my mind.
Outside n
ight fell on the campus. It was quiet except for the parties that dotted the dorms assigned to older students. Though I was lucky with my apartment, luck didn't drive away the loneliness I felt in the empty, quiet rooms. To have something to come home to that was my own was one thing, but to have someone to come home to would be something far more grand. I sighed and shook my head. "There you go daydreaming again. What did Hamish tell you about doing that?" I scolded myself.
After a long day in class and on my feet I just wanted to take a nap, but I couldn't get comfortable. That strange heat from the book, at first diminishing, jumped to the forefront once night slipped into my apartment. My body was awash in a desire I couldn't understand and couldn't fight. It covered me with a sensual blanket and pulled me toward the library, toward that book. Ideas swirled into my head about how I could slip in there and see it again. How I could touch and caress that cover, and feeling that warmth glide through me, exciting me with a pleasure I'd never known.
I grit my teeth and shook my head. "Don't you dare, Leslie Faulkner," I scolded myself.
My mind brushed aside the strong urge, but my relaxation was ruined. Instead I made the meal of college students, ramen, and sat on the couch with the bowl in front of me. I half-heartedly picked at the noodles and mechanically placed them in my mouth, but they had no flavor. They filled my mouth like sawdust while my body screamed and begged me for another look at that book. I tried to ignore it, but the need would not be brushed aside.
I lifted another bland forkful of ramen to my mouth and a rush of heat crashed over me. I gasped and my fork clattered to the ground. My body was on fire. It was a warmth so hot that all I could do was lean back on the couch and let it have its way with me. It covered my body with grasping hands of fire that touched and teased my shivering flesh. I groaned and gasped as the flames pooled in my groin. My panties were soaked with a desire I desperately wanted fulfilled, but the fire refused. It demanded something in return, and that something was the book.
