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The Librarian Did Me Dewey

Page 15

by Lilo Quie

“Fuck.” I sighed and heaved myself up. “Ruined that introduction.”

I pointed up at the little, leggy bastard. “Stay right there!”

It hissed at me by rasping its pages.

I went to see about finding a broom and some butter.

Chapter Eight

Lex

So, there I was, half my fingers papercut from the world’s most unwieldy encyclopedia, putting books on the shelves and minding my own business, when the feathery scuttle of papers drew my attention.

Shuffle, shuffle.

I glanced around, waiting while I held my breath.

The vaulted ceiling above seemed clear of anything, as did the upper shelves, but I couldn’t exactly see atop them.

Seeing nothing, I turned back, replacing the books—a lovely assortment of Lewis Carroll novels. All versions of Alice in Wonderland.

Instructions inside the cover asked that I write a report if the rabbit started rapping or if the caterpillar dropped something other than tobacco in his hookah.

I was also to belt the book shut if the text started moving around and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. What the fuck?

Wasn’t going to question it. Nope. Not my paygrade.

Not even when one of the designs on the book’s leather cover appeared to be an eyeball that looked at me.

I looked back.

It blinked.

I shoved it in the slot a little too hard. Not today, Satan.

Scamper. Shuffle. Click.

I glanced around again.

And from out of nowhere, a man fell from the fucking ceiling, collapsed in front of me, and grinned like a madman.

And if that wasn’t worse, he’d put some book-origami spider-crab thing up on a shelf.

I glanced from the spider to him.

“Oh, hell no. Nope.” I raised my hands and marched off.

Grown men falling from ceilings? Sure, who hadn’t been to a rager of a party?

Giant spider-book-crab origami? Nah.

If he was trying to scare me, good luck. I’d grown up with tales of dibbuks from my Zaydi and done a class on Appalachian folklore. I glared over my shoulder and shot a middle finger that way. Warding off evil and all that.

I went right back to my desk and sat down to stare at that weird copy of Beauty and the Beast again.

So, when the dude passed by with a big broom and a bucket, I didn’t even look up from the scene I sank into—Belle and the beast playing checkers.

Could have sworn that wasn’t there the last time.