The roar escaping from John fills the air of the library like a buzzsaw with a loose bearing. The veins on his neck stick out like miniature sleeping policemen, or cord pulls; his good eye bulges almost out of his head. Blood weeps from cracks in the blackened side of his face.
The Borrowers pause. The sound John is making keeps them at bay, it interferes with their thinking, like that earlier noise.
The pink cardigan draped over his shoulders flutters, cape-like, for a moment.
Arms poised in mid-throw, the Borrowers jostle and quake, transfixed by the apparition in front of them.
John steps forward, still screaming, and smites the nearest Borrower with Google Search and Rescue for Dummies. The Borrower falls to the ground and does not move. The horde step back in as one.
Pulling his arm back, John stops roaring and draws breath.
The Borrowers press forward once more.
The lift chimes as the doors open.
"Get back on the other side of the pigging counter!" barks Bob, "This is a Staff Only area!"
Bob hurls a large print edition of the RHS Plant Finder like a shot put, taking out two more.
Rosalyn pushes the book trolley out of the lift uttering a high pitched ululation like a demonic smoke alarm.
John begins to roar once more, and smashes another Borrower to the ground, taking another out another one on the upswing.
The Roar and the Ululation combine into a intestine-trembling, kneecap-shaking, eardrum-rattling lightning ball of noise.
The Borrowers quake in terror. John smites and smashes with Google Search and Rescue for Dummies. Rosalyn rams the book trolley into Borrower shins. Bob grits his teeth and throws tomes into the the mob with straining muscles.
Garry and Katerina cover their ears.
The Borrowers begin to retreat.
Showing posts with label Rosalyn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rosalyn. Show all posts
66: The Lingering Smell Of Sellotape
This chapter was submitted by Michael Frearson. Good work, Michael.
Rosalyn has a plan. She abandoned Garry up there, up there alone to fight their battle. Alone with Bob and Katerina and John. But Rosalyn knows what it’s like to be abandoned, rejected, left behind. She knows how that feels, and it feels like trying to play table tennis with only one player. And Rosalyn won’t do that to Garry. She’s going to be his hero, just as Garry is hers.
The basement holds no sanctuary anymore. Under the cold fluorescent strip lights everything looks plastic and lifeless. It used to be a living, breathing world, with green hair ribbons and red leather gloves. Now it’s just a poorly ventilated storage room with broken glass all over the floor.
Rosalyn shunts a wasted monitor off a wheeled computer desk and pulls it out from the wall. She drags it over to the book maze. The walls of the book maze are over six feet high. There must be enough ammunition down here to hold out for an entire weekend – perhaps even a bank holiday. There are some really flimsy volumes at the top, like individual Shakespeare plays, but down at the foundation lie the behemoths like The Complete Works, the original 1606 King James Bible and The Complete Illustrated Lord of the Rings. Rosalyn topples the wall and begins to load the desk.
She doesn’t hear the lift chime. She doesn’t hear the whine of the doors as they slide open. She doesn’t hear Bob’s tentative footstep on the concrete floor.
She hears Bob say ‘Rosalyn?’ in a long forgotten sort of way and she pauses mid-stack. ‘Rosalyn, I –’
She resumes her task. Heroes remain calm under pressure. Heroes maintain focus.
‘Rosalyn, I – will you stop what you’re doing and listen to me?’ Bob reaches out for her shoulders, but Rosalyn shrugs him off with a grunt. The computer desk is almost full.
‘Rosalyn, please, I…I came down here to apologise…I mean I should have done it years ago, I know, I just…I’m not very good at this…’
Rosalyn looks up and grips the edge of the computer desk. She begins to wheel it towards Bob, who takes a couple of steps back. Then a couple more.
‘Rosalyn, what on earth are you doing? Don’t you understand, I’m trying to…I’m trying to –’ Bob takes another step back and is in the lift, with its unfamiliar hum and mysterious lingering odour of sellotape. Rosalyn continues wheeling the book-laden computer desk into the lift, forcing Bob against the back wall.
‘Bob,’ she says, ‘that’s ancient history. Forget about that now, and help me win this war.’
‘Right,’ says Bob, as the lift doors shudder closed. Then, ‘That’s pigging right, m’lady,’ he says, tipping an imaginary hat.
A faint growl begins to sound just before the lift doors open. Bob springs astride the computer trolley, gripping onto the edge with his left hand and brandishing The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Second Edition in his right. Rosalyn is poised behind, ready to charge.
The lift chimes as the doors open.
The growl becomes a roar.
Rosalyn has a plan. She abandoned Garry up there, up there alone to fight their battle. Alone with Bob and Katerina and John. But Rosalyn knows what it’s like to be abandoned, rejected, left behind. She knows how that feels, and it feels like trying to play table tennis with only one player. And Rosalyn won’t do that to Garry. She’s going to be his hero, just as Garry is hers.
The basement holds no sanctuary anymore. Under the cold fluorescent strip lights everything looks plastic and lifeless. It used to be a living, breathing world, with green hair ribbons and red leather gloves. Now it’s just a poorly ventilated storage room with broken glass all over the floor.
Rosalyn shunts a wasted monitor off a wheeled computer desk and pulls it out from the wall. She drags it over to the book maze. The walls of the book maze are over six feet high. There must be enough ammunition down here to hold out for an entire weekend – perhaps even a bank holiday. There are some really flimsy volumes at the top, like individual Shakespeare plays, but down at the foundation lie the behemoths like The Complete Works, the original 1606 King James Bible and The Complete Illustrated Lord of the Rings. Rosalyn topples the wall and begins to load the desk.
She doesn’t hear the lift chime. She doesn’t hear the whine of the doors as they slide open. She doesn’t hear Bob’s tentative footstep on the concrete floor.
She hears Bob say ‘Rosalyn?’ in a long forgotten sort of way and she pauses mid-stack. ‘Rosalyn, I –’
She resumes her task. Heroes remain calm under pressure. Heroes maintain focus.
‘Rosalyn, I – will you stop what you’re doing and listen to me?’ Bob reaches out for her shoulders, but Rosalyn shrugs him off with a grunt. The computer desk is almost full.
‘Rosalyn, please, I…I came down here to apologise…I mean I should have done it years ago, I know, I just…I’m not very good at this…’
Rosalyn looks up and grips the edge of the computer desk. She begins to wheel it towards Bob, who takes a couple of steps back. Then a couple more.
‘Rosalyn, what on earth are you doing? Don’t you understand, I’m trying to…I’m trying to –’ Bob takes another step back and is in the lift, with its unfamiliar hum and mysterious lingering odour of sellotape. Rosalyn continues wheeling the book-laden computer desk into the lift, forcing Bob against the back wall.
‘Bob,’ she says, ‘that’s ancient history. Forget about that now, and help me win this war.’
‘Right,’ says Bob, as the lift doors shudder closed. Then, ‘That’s pigging right, m’lady,’ he says, tipping an imaginary hat.
A faint growl begins to sound just before the lift doors open. Bob springs astride the computer trolley, gripping onto the edge with his left hand and brandishing The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Second Edition in his right. Rosalyn is poised behind, ready to charge.
The lift chimes as the doors open.
The growl becomes a roar.
57: A Barrel Sailing Over A Waterfall
Katerina hovers while John drinks the tea she’s made. Her cup is on the desk. She is letting it cool. Garry and Rosalyn have cups too. Garry sips his quietly, but Rosalyn is slurping hers loudly, like only a person who’s lived alone does. Garry beams at her. He finds the noises she makes endearing. This impromptu tea party is a singular point of normality in the timetable of the day’s events. The fact that they are all still at work, well after hours, in various states of shock and confusion is by the by. The tea is a magical elixir, making everything fine for the moment.
John uses the sleeve of Katerina’s cardigan to wipe the teardrop from the horse book. He is relieved to find no permanent damage has been done. The book will still be able to go out into stock, where it will stand spine outwards or maybe even face on, until it is checked out by an adolescent girl. Suddenly self conscious, John shrugs the cardigan off his shoulders and hands it back to Katerina.
‘Thanks. You feeling a bit better?’
John nods. His head hurts. He thinks all the blood vessels have burst. He can feel tiny gunpowder explosions behind his eyes. It’s preventing him from thinking straight. But he does feel a bit better than he did.
Bob, the only one at the tea party not actually drinking tea, paces behind Garry. He is bothered by the fact that Rosalyn is sitting on his desk, and by the presence of Garry in his chair. Bob’s territory is being violated, but he is impotent. He is not himself. He wants to tell Garry to shift, and to shove the hairy bint off so she falls on the floor, but he doesn’t say a word. He can’t even bring himself to glare at Garry. He fixes his eyes on his stapler, marooned in the river of Rosalyn’s hair. It’s like a barrel about to sail over the edge of a waterfall. A hairy, cascading-over-the-desk waterfall.
Katerina catches Bob’s eye and mouths,’Who’s she?’
‘Trouble,’ Bob mouths back, shaking his head.
51: A Cup Of Tea Solves Everything
The lift doors open. Garry strides out, Rosalyn still in his arms. Her shoes clang against the sides on the way out, but she is unconcerned. Garry plops her down on Bob’s desk. She makes a sound like a disturbed goose. It is part-honk, part-squeal. Garry freezes on the spot. He imagines his heart slowly deflating. But then Rosalyn lifts one buttock and pulls a paper knife out from underneath her, and lowers herself back down, smiling. The paper knife is not sharp. It looks like it has been used for cutting something other than paper. And it doesn’t smell right. The smell reminds her of something she can’t quite place. Rosalyn uses the very tip of her index finger to push the weird-smelling paper knife as far away from her as she can. She smiles again at Garry. He smiles back. His heart is fine. His heart is going to be okay.
Bob stands behind Garry. He is flanked by Borrower Who Eats Scotch Eggs At The Computer and Borrower Who Borrows Black Lace Books But Always Puts A War Book On Top. (Who is he trying to kid?) Bob seems to have shrunk. His usually puffed-out chest is not puffed-out at all. The two Borrowers are looking to him for directions, but he is not meeting their eyes. Bob is looking around the room. Bob is staring at the floor.
‘Oi,’ says Garry, ‘get them out of here. This is a Staff Only area.’
Bob nods and sweeps the two Borrowers back out to the front desk. They rejoin the queue. They scratch their heads.
‘Now let’s get you a cup of tea,’ Garry says softly. Rosalyn gazes after him as he heads off towards the kitchen.
Bob stands behind Garry. He is flanked by Borrower Who Eats Scotch Eggs At The Computer and Borrower Who Borrows Black Lace Books But Always Puts A War Book On Top. (Who is he trying to kid?) Bob seems to have shrunk. His usually puffed-out chest is not puffed-out at all. The two Borrowers are looking to him for directions, but he is not meeting their eyes. Bob is looking around the room. Bob is staring at the floor.
‘Oi,’ says Garry, ‘get them out of here. This is a Staff Only area.’
Bob nods and sweeps the two Borrowers back out to the front desk. They rejoin the queue. They scratch their heads.
‘Now let’s get you a cup of tea,’ Garry says softly. Rosalyn gazes after him as he heads off towards the kitchen.
49: That'll Pigging Do, Bob.
Garry is striding through the dark. He can hear Rosalyn keening somewhere over to his left, but something is telling him he must carry straight on. His hands outstretched, they finally come into contact with the wall.
But it isn't just the wall, and the noise isn't just Rosalyn.
Garry stops, and sniffs.
He can smell Brut. And he can hear panting and shuffling.
'Just a little bit more!' someone says. There's a groan, and the noise of something soft and large falling. A torrent of swearing, and then a laugh.
'I'm in!' Bob says, 'for the love of pig!' It worked!
Garry freezes. He can hear Bob picking himself up off the floor. Garry hurries, feeling the strange boxes and levers on the wall in front of him. He will not be robbed of his glory. Today, he thinks, is Garry Day. Garry holds his breath and pulls the levers down.
There is a crackle, a fizz, a pop, and then the electricity hums into life and the basement is flooded with light.
Garry is standing in front of the fuse-boxes. Bob is in front of the lift. There are a couple of borrowers lying on the floor as if they are asleep, scattered at his feet like fallen skittles.
Rosalyn is on her knees. She has her hands over her eyes. The lights haven't been on down here in years, perhaps decades.
'Garry!' Bob says, 'you beauty!'
Garry blinks, his hand still on the levers. He feels something. A strange feeling. It is swelling in his chest. His heart is expanding, getting bigger and bigger. It is making him spread his legs and stand up straighter. He lifts his chin, feeling like a Roman Emperor. He lets go of the levers and puts his hands on his hips.
'That'll do, Bob,' he says, with great dignity. 'I've got everything in hand now.'
Rosalyn stands up, shakes out her hair and walks shakily towards Garry. Garry doesn't notice her. He is too busy Making Eye Contact with Bob.
Bob seems to shrink and crumple. Katerina is shouting down the lift shaft.
'The lights! The lights are back on! The tills are working!' she says. She sounds delirious with happiness, but neither Bob or Garry answer.
Rosalyn leaps towards Garry. She curls her arms around his neck and kisses his cheekbone. She stands on tip-toe and lets her hair tickle his neck.
There are no words to describe Garry's heart now. He has never, ever been kissed before. He thinks about The Staff Manual. Wasn't there something in there about Relationships Between Staff? Some dire consequences?
Rosalyn smells like a grove of citrus trees and he turns and pushes her hair out of her eyes. Garry puts his hand around her waist. In the light, Rosalyn is a very beautiful woman. Rosalyn puts her head in the space between Garry's chin and his chest. She kind of burrows in, as if she doesn't want to look at Bob.
'Garry, you plumb. She's bad news! Leave it alone!' Bob says.
Garry places one arm around Rosalyn's shoulders and points at Bob with the other.
'Oi,' he says. The kiss has made his voice deeper, more manly somehow. Bob shrinks some more, and then nods.
'Lets get back upstairs,' Garry says, and presses the button on the lift, 'come on Bob. This lady,' he lifts Rosalyn and carries her into the lift, 'needs a hot drink, and something to eat.'
'Are you coming up now?' Katerina's voice bounces down the metal tube and booms around them, 'come quick! John's gone mad!'
42: Rosalyn Versus The Stranger
Rosalyn needs to find the lemon. The music needs her, and without the lemon, she has no power. It is too quiet. As she sweeps her hands across the floor, she feels bits of something sharp piercing them. It is the glass from the observation monitors, the observation monitors that the stranger broke.
Rosalyn doesn’t know why the stranger wants to damage her things. She stays low on the floor. It is her strongest attack position. Her back legs are very very strong. She has had a lot of time to practise her jumping.
There is something Not Right about this stranger, though. His presence makes Rosalyn do those strange whimpers that she has no control of, and her hair feels like it is standing up on end, even though there is too much of it and it is too heavy to do that. She sniffs the air for clues. She is confused. She can’t smell him. He has no scent. Except....there is something she can smell. It is almost shiny. No, not shiny. It just makes things shiny. He has been at her polish!!
Rosalyn begins to shake, sitting back on her haunches. It is completely dark now he has broken her observation monitors, but she is used to it. Her eyes can see the outline of the stranger. He is saying things. Rosalyn only wants to make the music, she doesn’t want to say words. She hisses. She wants him to go away. The shape of him moves backwards and she watches him. He is moving too slow for her. She pushes all her strength down into her legs and waits for it to be ready. She is not going to let him damage any more things. She is a coiled spring. As she propels herself through the air, all she hears is a strange scream. And then Rosalyn hits the wall. The stranger is not where he was. Rosalyn can feel her teeth wiggling in her mouth. It hurts. In the distance, she hears the thump of volumes hitting the dusty floor. The stranger has found his way into the maze of books.
Rosalyn doesn’t know why the stranger wants to damage her things. She stays low on the floor. It is her strongest attack position. Her back legs are very very strong. She has had a lot of time to practise her jumping.
There is something Not Right about this stranger, though. His presence makes Rosalyn do those strange whimpers that she has no control of, and her hair feels like it is standing up on end, even though there is too much of it and it is too heavy to do that. She sniffs the air for clues. She is confused. She can’t smell him. He has no scent. Except....there is something she can smell. It is almost shiny. No, not shiny. It just makes things shiny. He has been at her polish!!
Rosalyn begins to shake, sitting back on her haunches. It is completely dark now he has broken her observation monitors, but she is used to it. Her eyes can see the outline of the stranger. He is saying things. Rosalyn only wants to make the music, she doesn’t want to say words. She hisses. She wants him to go away. The shape of him moves backwards and she watches him. He is moving too slow for her. She pushes all her strength down into her legs and waits for it to be ready. She is not going to let him damage any more things. She is a coiled spring. As she propels herself through the air, all she hears is a strange scream. And then Rosalyn hits the wall. The stranger is not where he was. Rosalyn can feel her teeth wiggling in her mouth. It hurts. In the distance, she hears the thump of volumes hitting the dusty floor. The stranger has found his way into the maze of books.
37: When the Music's Over, Turn Out The Lights
Rosalyn steps forward. Garry can see by the light of the observation monitors that she is holding a pair of red leather gloves. She is ignoring him. She seems to be searching the ground for something. She is making strange noises under her breath. They are squeaking, foxy, animal noises. He thinks she is saying 'lemon' but that would be silly.
'Are you all right?' Garry asks. 'Bit dark down here, isn't it?'
Garry looks towards the observation monitors. There are lots of electrical panels and little flashing LED lights over there. He is thinking logically. He is problem solving. In his interview for the library job he claimed that logical thinking and problem solving were the main assets he could bring to the Library. Now, he thinks, is the time to prove it. There is a puzzle here, and he is the man to sort it out. But first he needs to turn on the lights. Using logic, he thinks the best place to look for the light switch is near the observation monitors.
The observation monitors are flickering. He can see the main library area in one of them. He can see Complaining Borrower ringing the bell at the counter. He slaps it with the palm of his hand, over and over. There is no sound, but Garry can see how hard he is pressing the bell. Nobody comes. Lots of books have spilled from the shelves and are scattered onto the floor.
In another of the observation monitors Garry can see into the computer room. He can see Bob pick himself up from the floor. He can see Mike stand up. He can see John crouching in a corner. He can see Linda and Katerina. None of them seem to hear the bell. Perhaps, Garry thinks, the other librarians think it is part of the music - perhaps they haven't noticed that the music is over.
Rosalyn crouches on the floor and starts to sweep her hands across the concrete. She looks like a woman who has lost a contact lens. Her noises are howly, but quiet. The sound is quite like a baby who has been ignored for a very long time, and has almost no energy left for attracting attention. Where is that light switch?
'I'll be over in a tick,' Garry says, and then the observation monitors explode. There is a crackling noise, and in the dark Garry hears glass and plastic hit the floor. He can feel shards bouncing off his jumper. Something scratches the side of his face, but he isn't hurt.
Now he can see nothing. He is completely in the dark. When he turns all he can see is Rosalyn's eyes, low down because she is kneeling on the floor. It is quite like, he thinks, The Silence of The Lambs. Gary saw that film once, when he was quite young. His mother had told him not to, but he had crept downstairs after she went to bed and did it anyway. He was more adventurous back then. Now he comes to think of it, the thing with the cling-film started after he watched that film. It probably wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that The Silence of The Lambs made Garry into the man he is today. The timid, 86% anxiety man he was on the brink of abandoning.
Garry wonders where his antibacterial hand gel is. Garry clutches the Staff Manual to his chest.
Garry wonders where his antibacterial hand gel is. Garry clutches the Staff Manual to his chest.
'Hello?' he says, 'seems like there's been a power cut. Is there a fuse box down here? Or a button. For an emergency generator. Type of thing. You know. Hello?'
There is no answer. No noise but the snuffling sound of breath through clogged up nostrils, and dry hands sweeping a rough floor. Garry realises that the lift back up to the library won't work if there is no power. The darkness expands around him.
34: Meanwhile, Down in the Basement
Garry is travelling down in the lift. The music is battering at the small bones inside his ear. As the lift moves downwards he becomes more and more certain that he is right: the music is coming from down there.
He's not worried about Restricted Areas. He's not worried about Unemployment. For Garry, this is a chance to be a hero.
The lift stops and the doors slide open. It's dark out there, very dark. As his eyes adjust to the gloom he can see something. It isn't the hidden orchestra he expected. It's a woman. A woman who can't possibly be as old as she looks, with long, long hair that is swirling around her like a cloud.
He can't see how she is making the music, but her eyes fix on him, he can see them shining like two bike lamps. It isn't possible that they are glowing with a light of their own, Garry thinks, and then he realises he is staring, coughs, and steps out of the lift.
Something falls from the woman's hands and rolls away over the floor. The music stops as suddenly as it started. It feels like Garry has been leaning against a wall and it has suddenly collapsed. A wall of sound. And now it has been taken away he wobbles, and feels small and naked in the silence.
Garry walks towards towards the woman.
'Hello,' he says, 'do you work here?'
He's not worried about Restricted Areas. He's not worried about Unemployment. For Garry, this is a chance to be a hero.
The lift stops and the doors slide open. It's dark out there, very dark. As his eyes adjust to the gloom he can see something. It isn't the hidden orchestra he expected. It's a woman. A woman who can't possibly be as old as she looks, with long, long hair that is swirling around her like a cloud.
He can't see how she is making the music, but her eyes fix on him, he can see them shining like two bike lamps. It isn't possible that they are glowing with a light of their own, Garry thinks, and then he realises he is staring, coughs, and steps out of the lift.
Something falls from the woman's hands and rolls away over the floor. The music stops as suddenly as it started. It feels like Garry has been leaning against a wall and it has suddenly collapsed. A wall of sound. And now it has been taken away he wobbles, and feels small and naked in the silence.
Garry walks towards towards the woman.
'Hello,' he says, 'do you work here?'
List Of Chapters
1: 146 Books About Hearts
2: Face Fascists
3: Barcodes
4: Restricted Items
5: Night Eyes
6: Induction
7: 500 Squat Thrusts A Day
8: Green Hair Ribbon
9: 'Existential Crisis'
10: Dirty Shit
11: The Enquiry
12: 78 Rubber Plant Leaves
13: No 'Gun' At All
14: Bob's Peak Peaks
15: This Is More Than Stab-proof Underwear And Glory
16: Now We Have The Internet Librarians Are Going Extinct
17: A Hankering For Pernod
18: The Boy With A Glockenspiel Spine
19: A Message From The Boss
20: The Music Of Lemons
"Commercial Break"
21: Lunch Break
22: Staff Manual
23: The Squid And The Quail
24: Risk Assessment (Google)
25: The Dewey Chakra
26: The Power Of The Pink Wall
27: Working Towards The Same Goal
28: I Used To Work In An Office But I'm All Right Now
29: Forbidden Areas
30: Basement Rapunzel Vibrates Lemon. Angry Penguin Watches On Disgruntled Skateboard. Red Gloves Receive Tune Of Rage
31: Angry Library Music
32: Treason
33: A Number all of His Own
34: Meanwhile, Down in the Basement
35: Sweetcheeks
36: A Charred Man, But a Man all The Same
37: When the Music's Over, Turn Out The Lights
38: A Rescue Rope Made Of Nylon Stockings
39: A Head In The Clouds
40: Adjacent To Miss World
41: Onwards And Upwards
42: Rosalyn Versus The Stranger
43: Big Ball Of String
44: Dead Zone
45: Not Green But Puce: A Story of The Incredible Hulk and the Zombie Borrowers
46: Today Is Not A Good Day To Die
Audience Participation
47: An Orphaned Ice Skater
48: A Genius, A Superhero, And A Dream Of Keyboard Shortcuts
49: That'll Pigging Do Bob
50: It's Me, Katerina
51: A Cup Of Tea Solves Everything
52: Something Nasty In The Library
53: An Army Of Borrowers
54: Dealing With Borrowers
55: The One True Grail
56: Paper Roses, Only Imitation, Just Like Your Imitation Love, For Me
57: A Barrel Sailing Over A Waterfall
58: Relationships Between Staff
59: Hive Mind Hatches A Plan
60: Three Scotch Eggs, Inalienable Rights and A Great Wrong
61: Breaking Out The Big Guns
62: A Smile To Give You Tumours
63: This Isn't War, It's Love
64: The Thin Grey Line
65: Search And Rescue
66: The Lingering Smell Of Sellotape
2: Face Fascists
3: Barcodes
4: Restricted Items
5: Night Eyes
6: Induction
7: 500 Squat Thrusts A Day
8: Green Hair Ribbon
9: 'Existential Crisis'
10: Dirty Shit
11: The Enquiry
12: 78 Rubber Plant Leaves
13: No 'Gun' At All
14: Bob's Peak Peaks
15: This Is More Than Stab-proof Underwear And Glory
16: Now We Have The Internet Librarians Are Going Extinct
17: A Hankering For Pernod
18: The Boy With A Glockenspiel Spine
19: A Message From The Boss
20: The Music Of Lemons
"Commercial Break"
21: Lunch Break
22: Staff Manual
23: The Squid And The Quail
24: Risk Assessment (Google)
25: The Dewey Chakra
26: The Power Of The Pink Wall
27: Working Towards The Same Goal
28: I Used To Work In An Office But I'm All Right Now
29: Forbidden Areas
30: Basement Rapunzel Vibrates Lemon. Angry Penguin Watches On Disgruntled Skateboard. Red Gloves Receive Tune Of Rage
31: Angry Library Music
32: Treason
33: A Number all of His Own
34: Meanwhile, Down in the Basement
35: Sweetcheeks
36: A Charred Man, But a Man all The Same
37: When the Music's Over, Turn Out The Lights
38: A Rescue Rope Made Of Nylon Stockings
39: A Head In The Clouds
40: Adjacent To Miss World
41: Onwards And Upwards
42: Rosalyn Versus The Stranger
43: Big Ball Of String
44: Dead Zone
45: Not Green But Puce: A Story of The Incredible Hulk and the Zombie Borrowers
46: Today Is Not A Good Day To Die
Audience Participation
47: An Orphaned Ice Skater
48: A Genius, A Superhero, And A Dream Of Keyboard Shortcuts
49: That'll Pigging Do Bob
50: It's Me, Katerina
51: A Cup Of Tea Solves Everything
52: Something Nasty In The Library
53: An Army Of Borrowers
54: Dealing With Borrowers
55: The One True Grail
56: Paper Roses, Only Imitation, Just Like Your Imitation Love, For Me
57: A Barrel Sailing Over A Waterfall
58: Relationships Between Staff
59: Hive Mind Hatches A Plan
60: Three Scotch Eggs, Inalienable Rights and A Great Wrong
61: Breaking Out The Big Guns
62: A Smile To Give You Tumours
63: This Isn't War, It's Love
64: The Thin Grey Line
65: Search And Rescue
66: The Lingering Smell Of Sellotape
30: Basement Rapunzel Vibrates Lemon. Angry Penguin Watches on Disgrunted Skateboard. Red Gloves Receive Tune of Rage.
Rosalyn is not tired of making the music. Her back is aching from where she is pressing it against the shelves. Her teeth feel like they are about to judder out of her jaw - the vibrations are strong down here. Her toes are numb, the pictures on the observation monitors are flickering, and things are working their way to the edge of the shelves. But she won't stop. She can't stop.
The first thing to fall is a stuffed penguin riding a skateboard. That's something Rosalyn found in the Children's Library. It bounces off the dirty concrete floor and comes to rest between her feet. Rosalyn can't kick it away, but the floor itself is moving and shifts it for her.
Rosalyn wonders why no-one comes down here for their Lost property. She wonders why no-one loves these objects enough to retrieve them. She wonders why no-one comes to see her. Her hair is loose and is flies around her, crackling with static electricity that sparkles blue and green in the dark.
Rosalyn has very few memories: her years in the dark seem to have obscured them from her. But she remembers one visit, many years ago. A young man, searching for somewhere quiet to lift weights in his lunch hour. Just passed his Working At Depths certificate. They don't let the staff take it anymore. When she heard his footsteps on the stairs, she'd shaken her hair loose then too. She'd pulled the hem of her dress straight. She wondered if there was enough tea in her thermos for two. She coughed, just to test if her voice still worked.
And he'd looked at her, scratched his crotch, and laughed.
'Look at your hair!' he'd said, 'you could stuff a pigging mattress!'
Rosalyn doesn't remember what happened next. It could be that he had wandered around her shelves and cabinets, tutting at dust and ignoring her. It could be that he'd found the dark and the dust and the damp unsuitable to his body building. Perhaps he had pulled her fingers from his shirt material and vanished into the lift before she could show him the treasure down here. It could be that he'd forgotten all about her by now. It was years ago. Long enough for her to stop imagining what lying down on a mattress filled with her own hair might feel like.
She moves her hands slightly, adjusting her grip on the lemon and the red leather gloves. She hisses - she can't help it - and changes the tune. She wants to make the whole building as angry as she is.
20: The Music of Lemons
Sarah Hymas submitted this chapter. Sh was pleased. Sarah is a poet, puppeteer, performer and is currently considering other activities beginning with Pee. More Sarah here and here.
Rosalyn has discovered that if she rubs the petrified lemon against the red leather gloves in her collection it gives off a low-level, slightly sharp, hum, an octave lower than her comfort pitch. She can’t help but join in. Hmmmm. She hasn’t quite hit the right note, but it doesn’t matter because it’s a rather lovely minor chord. She slips the left glove on for better leverage. It sounds better if she doesn’t look, or think too much.
So she stares at the observation monitor and rubs and hums in time with Linda tapping her clipboard. This is not satisfactory. Linda does not have good rhythm. Linda has the rhythm of a fly in a cobweb.
What Rosalyn needs is a third note to make the sound better. But since she’s using both hands and her voice already, she’s unsure what she might do. And the more she thinks about that, the more her voice wavers off the lemon minor. Although this isn’t so bad.
The sound now reminds her of a picture from the Hubble telescope, of Omega Centuri. She images the cluster glittering in her ribcage as she pings and hisses against the rub of leathery lemon, and realises what she needs is not another note but a bigger sound.
The LED lights blink in agreement.
The old books are absorbing her music like moss does light. She paces up and down past the shelves, hearing how when she passes bare metal the lemon becomes more limey. This isn’t satisfactory either. And has the added effect of reminding of her Linda again.
She rubs the lemon more vigorously, so it chafes her palm through the glove. If she judders while she does it, she can create a new, slightly more resonant effect which she likes. Still not loud enough.
Rosalyn suddenly has a flash of The Boss hearing her music right at the top of the building, and joining in with her, like Pavarotti without the beard. She wouldn’t be able to resist. In fact no one who hears her could resist. She is the Siren of the Basement. She flicks her hair, feels the green ribbon slide against her neck. Her larynx opens.
8. Green Hair Ribbon
Down here in the dark, the ribbon hardly looks green at all. She remembers it though. She remembers green. And she remembers how she found it - tied around the leg of one of the chairs in the Periodicals Section, as if it was a clue - a rosette at the end of a treasure hunt. This is the newest addition to the collection. The one she likes best. She almost puts it back on the shelf - she doesn't want to use it up too quickly.
Perhaps, she wonders, someone other than The Boss knows she is here. Perhaps someone left it for her. Perhaps it was a present.
She holds it up to her nose. If it smelled like anything, the smell is long gone now. That makes her sad. It makes her think of moss and flowers and the fact that it is so dark down here nothing can hold its colour. Nothing can grow.
She shakes her hair over her shoulders and begins to plait. Her hair is so long that if she tilts her head back, it touches the floor. The ribbon will keep it out of the way. It will help her to think. It doesn't matter that no-one will see how nice she looks.
Perhaps, she wonders, someone other than The Boss knows she is here. Perhaps someone left it for her. Perhaps it was a present.
She holds it up to her nose. If it smelled like anything, the smell is long gone now. That makes her sad. It makes her think of moss and flowers and the fact that it is so dark down here nothing can hold its colour. Nothing can grow.
She shakes her hair over her shoulders and begins to plait. Her hair is so long that if she tilts her head back, it touches the floor. The ribbon will keep it out of the way. It will help her to think. It doesn't matter that no-one will see how nice she looks.
5: Night Eyes
Rosalyn lives in the basement. She's almost certain that kind of thing isn't allowed. But it's been a long time since she's thought about that. It's been a long time since she's thought about her other life. Before. She thinks it's because she lives in the dark. She knows it has affected her skin. Probably her eyes too. She used to struggle with seeing in the dark. She considered buying a helmet with a fitted torch. But after a while, she got better. It's all all right now. Everything is. Everything is all right. It's fine.
The basement is a nice place to be. There are electric lights, but she prefers to leave them off. The red and green LEDs from her machines and the glow from the 'observation monitors' is more than enough illumination for her.
Rosalyn is Night Staff. The only person who knows she exists is The Boss. Sometimes, when she is watching the borrowers come and go and counting the beeps on the People Counter Console, she thinks that if she died down here she'd rest on the concrete floor, either dissolving into dust, or becoming a kind of moss for flowers to grow in. She likes that idea. The moss and the flowers. No-one knowing. A kind of secret garden, just below their feet. They'd never know. She's the only one that doesn't get a box of Turkish Delight at Christmas. She likes secrets. She likes the idea of becoming a secret.
No-one would ever know. Not until the bins needed emptying, that is.
Bins. What curious things these people throw away! What strange objects end up in Lost Property! What unexpected surprises and treats. She has quite a collection now.
Rosalyn goes over to the first rack of shelves and starts taking out objects, holding them in her hands and smelling them. Each one is a memory. Each one has a story attached to it.
1. One pair of red leather gloves.
2. Postcard to 'everyone' from Malta, from Bob.
3. Toe-nail clippers.
4. A lemon.
5. A toy penguin riding a plastic skateboard.
6. Cactus seeds in a brown envelope.
7. Spare keys.
8. A green hair ribbon.
The basement is a nice place to be. There are electric lights, but she prefers to leave them off. The red and green LEDs from her machines and the glow from the 'observation monitors' is more than enough illumination for her.
Rosalyn is Night Staff. The only person who knows she exists is The Boss. Sometimes, when she is watching the borrowers come and go and counting the beeps on the People Counter Console, she thinks that if she died down here she'd rest on the concrete floor, either dissolving into dust, or becoming a kind of moss for flowers to grow in. She likes that idea. The moss and the flowers. No-one knowing. A kind of secret garden, just below their feet. They'd never know. She's the only one that doesn't get a box of Turkish Delight at Christmas. She likes secrets. She likes the idea of becoming a secret.
No-one would ever know. Not until the bins needed emptying, that is.
Bins. What curious things these people throw away! What strange objects end up in Lost Property! What unexpected surprises and treats. She has quite a collection now.
Rosalyn goes over to the first rack of shelves and starts taking out objects, holding them in her hands and smelling them. Each one is a memory. Each one has a story attached to it.
1. One pair of red leather gloves.
2. Postcard to 'everyone' from Malta, from Bob.
3. Toe-nail clippers.
4. A lemon.
5. A toy penguin riding a plastic skateboard.
6. Cactus seeds in a brown envelope.
7. Spare keys.
8. A green hair ribbon.
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