A Story Without Me 5

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jobob

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A Story Without Me

Chapter 5: Love, B.

It's two-for-one day here at The Maze of Jobob's Imagination! We're unloading chapters while jobob tries to concentrate on her final week of grad school. She'll post another at the end of this week. If you see her on the blue crack before Friday night or Saturday, slap some sense into her, okay?

Disclaimer: Bono still belongs to Bono and not to yours truly. I reserve the right to replace his green hat with another hat. B's sorta Bono, sorta not. B's spending his time here with J. Bono's had a busier year. Bono truly deserves the 2005 Nobel Peace Prize for his successful work towards African debt cancellation, convincing Bob Geldof to stage Live 8, fighting "stupid poverty," and being the most unusual person ever considered for the World Bank presidency. As you already know, Bono also is the co-founder of One. Visit www.one.org and sign the ONE Petition, or text your name to it during a U2 show. We now return you to our fictional alternate universe.

Saturday at the library. You're not happy about being called in to work this morning. You and B had made other plans.

You were sitting together on your couch on Monday. The daily paper had a special section on the Ann Arbor Art Fairs that weekend. B began leafing through it.

"Art fairs? I love viewing paintings, sketches, and photography. Have you ever been to this fair before? Is the art good?"

"I went to college near Ann Arbor. When I took summer classes, I went to the art fair. I've been back a few times since, It's huge. It's spread out throughout the entire downtown area. Yes, there are paintings and photography on exhibit, along with pottery, jewelry, textiles, glass, sculpture. The artists are always there to talk to you and to sell their works. There's also street performers, and lots of restaurants and bars and some music venues downtown. We'll also be on the University of Michigan campus. And we can take a side trip to my old college."

"Want to go there Saturday? We can walk through the fair and the campus hand-in-hand ..."

"Yes, we wouldn't want to get separated in that huge crowd." You wink at him.

"We'll need to eat lunch and dinner. Maybe hear some live music? How far is it to Ann Arbor from here, anyway?"

"You know where the airport is. Ann Arbor's about another 30 minutes west of the airport."

"Depending on how late we stay, we may want to get a room on the way home." His turn to wink.

And so you and he made plans for him to pick you up at your house early Saturday morning, your place being closer to the freeway and him being more than chivarious enough to want to meet you. As you finished packing your small duffel bag for your possible overnight stay, your phone rang. Dales Public Library on the Caller ID.

Oh, no.

You answer the phone as you let B in at the door. Is it too soon for you to exchange keys?

"Jo," the weekend supervisor says. "We know you weren't scheduled today and you haven't had a Saturday off before. We're short-handed. Paula is sick, and Janice went into labor late last night. Would you help us out?"

B.sees you on your phone, sees your upset face.

"May I put you on hold for a second? There's someone at my door." You walk to B as you press the hold button you really do have on your phone. "Bad news. They're asking me to come in to work in the library today. One librarian called in sick and the other is having a baby a week before she was going to start her maternity leave. What do I do? What do we do? I could use the extra money for my student loan payments. I hate to tell them no when I'm new there and I'm supposed to be on call, and there's a chance they could hire me there full-time. I know you were looking forward to today. Believe me, love, so was I." You reach for him, hold him. "I'm sorry."

He sighs. "Tell them you'll go to work. Tell me when your shift ends, We'll see each other later at my house."

"You know, my town usually has an art fair in August. Much smaller, and quality stuff. If that doesn't work out, there's a small gallery near my house. Or there's always the Detroit Institute of Arts, they have wonderful collections and some well-known works."

"Is the art institute open tomorrow?"

"I think the DIA may still be open on Sundays. I'll check their web site."

You press the cordless phone's hold button again, put it back to your ear and mouth. With B's arms around you, reluctance in your heart but, you hope, not in your voice, you say:

"Yes, I'll be in. When do you need me?"

They asked you to work the circulation desk. Meaning you're the one who actually checks out the books. There's also a "Self-Checkout" machine next to you. Sort of like the self-service scanners at Kmart and the grocery store: Open the book's cover, scan your library card, wave the book's bar code under the scanner light, tear off your due date receipt. However, most people still prefer old-fashioned personal service.

MId-afternoon, you're checking out "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" for a brown-haired boy. He looks about nine years old, just old enough to begin the books.

"I want to read the other books first so I can understand the new one," he told you as you saw the cover and smiled.

" 'Sorcerer's Stone' is a very good book, and it starts the story. I loved it. It can be very funny, sad at times, and a bit scary. You'll wish you could be a wizard so you can study magic at Hogwarts, be a loyal and noble Gryffindor, and play the game of Quiddich on high-flying broomsticks." you tell him. His young face lights up.

"Wow! Did you read Harry Potter when you were a girl?"

"Harry Potter hasn't been around that long. I'm reading about him now, just like you. A lot of adults like Harry Potter. You're right to want to read the books in order. They're meant to be read that way." You finish checking out the book and hand it to him. "This is due back on the sixth. Enjoy!"

"Thanks, library lady!" The boy yells, nearly running out of the library -- and nearly runs into B, as he walks towards you.

"Hey there!" B watches the boy weave around him and race out the door, book in hand. "Enthusiastic young reader, isn't he?"

"He reminds me of how excited I was about reading at his age."

"Library lady, how are you?" B's wearing his summer weekend attire. Dark blue v-neck t-shirt, blue Dockers, too hot for jeans. (He gets sunburned in shorts.) Sunglasses and sandals, A Detroit Tigers baseball cap on his head from his first baseball game with you. After seeing how good Comerica Park looked on TV during the All-Star Game, B wanted to see a game in person. The Tigers lost, of course. You still had fun together in the sun, rooting for the home team. You even made a little bet with B on the game. You were never so happy to see the Tigers lose.

"I'm doing okay, considering. And you?"

"The same."

"What brings you here this afternoon?" As if you didn't know.

"I came in to search the catalog for something. For a few things, actually."

"Be sure to finish your search by six." You wink.

"Will do."

For a moment, you watch him walk away from you and to the nearby bank of computer terminals. Such a nice rear view. Then, it's back to the books.

About 45 minutes later, you're working your way through a line at circulation. A few people wander over to self-serve. Five are still lined up.

"Hello, would you check these out for me?" It's B. He's put two books and his library card in front of you.

The first is an art book. "Modern 20th Century Paintings." You lift it, open the cover, scan his card and the barcode, put the due date slip in the pocket. You smile at him.

The second is "A Guide to Weekend Trips in Michigan." My, my, my. Someone wants to take a road trip. You open the cover to find a small piece of paper in its pocket. You remove the paper, scan the barcode, put in the date slip.

"Read the note later, when you have a minute to yourself," he whispers in that irrestible way of his. You take out the note. Slip it into your pants pocket. You scan the book's barcode, put the due date slip in its pocket, smile again. He takes the books from you, smiles at you.

"These are all due back on the sixth. Have a good afternoon, Mr. Hewson." You know you and he will have a very good evening.

About 20 minutes later, the line ends and your supervisor relieves you for a 15-minute break. You go to the bathroom and take the note out of your pocket. It was written on a small piece of paper, torn out of his small day planner. It's dated with today's date.

Dear, dear J:

The first book was so we could see some art together today after all.

The second is for us to make some plans to go away together soon.

I haven't seen much of the rest of Michigan yet. I'd love to explore it with you.

I love you.

Love, B.

You laugh, you cry, you can't wait to see him, to talk to him ... wait, you're on your break. You have a cell phone. God created cell phones for moments such as this. Didn't He? You rush for your phone, speed dial his cell phone, pray he answers ... B does! In the background, you hear numbers being called and orders being said at a meat counter. B's gone food shopping.

"Hello, J. Caller ID's amazing, isn't it? I don't even have to hear your lovely voice to know it's you. Are you on your break from the circulation desk?"

"B, I just read the note. I love it! I can't wait to see you. I love you."

You said "I love you" to him for the first time over your cell phone?

"Oh, I can't believe I told you I Iove you for the first time over my cell phone. So 21st century, isn't it? Saying I love you to someone for the first time is something which needs to be said face-to-face, isn't it?"

"Or in a love letter that your lover can save for the rest of her life."

Yes, save the letter, by all means. Maybe scan it and file away a copy, just for backup?

"I will save your letter. Should I come to your place to tell you I love you, or are you coming here to walk me to your home?"

"Come to my place? I'm now at the shop, in the middle of trying to decide what to cook you for dinner, and how to cook it."

"Too bad your cooking-lessons-with-cookbook-checkout idea never went anywhere."

"Aye, but what do you think of my other ideas?"

"They have a great deal of possibilty." You smile, even though he can't see it. "I love you, B! I love you! And I'll finally say it to your face after six tonght. Bye."

"I love you, J." He hears his number called. "Fourteen! Gotta go. Bless you," He disconnects.

After dinner -- B bought shiskabobs, grilled them for you on his balcony, and served them with a salad and beer -- you look though the art book in each other's arms.

"Mackinac Island is one of my favorite places Up North, it's got to be described in here," you tell him as you pick up the weekend getaways book. "It's very quiet, scenic, romantic. It's also the only place in this car-crazy state where cars have always been banned. Everyone gets around either on foot, on bicycles, or by horse-drawn carriage."

"No cars? Perfect place for someone in the auto business to go forget about business for awhile," he says. "And to be with his lady love."

"I love you."

"Tell me again ..." he says, kissing you.
 
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