LibraryTales

I lounged back in my seat at the front of the bus, booted foot up on the dash, a romantasy book from a new author cracked open. I was early for pickup, but I usually was. I hated rushing when I could get here early, kick back, and read about some hot fae guy and a weirdly competent human girl fighting and flirting. Some days I rooted for the guy, some days I felt for the girl. Either way, they were fun.

“You here for The Chaos Library?”

I looked up and smothered a sigh. The bus had a paint job you could see from space with the Library’s name in letters big enough for my grandma to read, and that woman refuses to wear her glasses. Good thing she’s not driving anymore. Even so, someone always asked. This time it was a tall guy in a business suit, carrying a briefcase. One of those.

“Absolutely. You got luggage?” I swung from my seat and stepped down out of the bus. The summer morning air was still cool but would heat up quickly. Thank goodness for air conditioning. Best perk of the job, some days. I spotted a carry-on, but nothing else, and grabbed my clipboard from its slot near the door. “Ah, I see. You can keep that with you on the bus then. Name?”

“Peter Miller,” the guy said, reaching for his wallet. “Need to see ID?”

“Nope, they’ll handle that at the Library. You’re on my list, no worries. Welcome to the Library.”

As I stepped aside to let Peter on, I saw a pair of women pulling a cart stacked with luggage, pointing my way. Either they were staying for both sessions this week, or they were over-packers. I checked my list, looked like the latter. Only a couple of participants were staying for both sessions. I never understood the ones who brought half their life with them for a three-day stay, but my therapist would probably say something about security and belongings. Whatever. Not my problem. I unlatched the cargo area under the bus and was ready before the pair rolled up.

“Morning, ladies, welcome,” I said, getting their names and luggage squared away. Yep, over-packers. Cheerful and friendly, though, so no harm.

The next 15–20 minutes were hectic as the bus slowly filled up. I remembered when the Library first opened and the bus would be half full some weeks, but not now. The waiting list was creeping up to a year or more. I’d heard they were putting pressure on Lianne to open a second branch, but she refused, said there’s only one Chaos Library. We’ll see.

Finally, I checked my watch and clipboard. Everyone was loaded except one, a Sam Mendenhall. I wondered briefly if Sam was short for Samantha or Samuel. Not that it mattered, any more than anyone needed to know if Gus was short for Augusta or Gustav. When the last participant finally rushed up, she turned out to be a busty type in a sundress and straw hat, lugging one enormous blue suitcase.

“Oh good, I’m not too late. Sorry, I couldn’t find my bag in baggage claim,” she said, rolling to a halt in front of me.

“No worries.” I smiled as I took the heavy thing from her and heaved it into the space under the bus. “I can see how it could be hard to find this little guy.”

Sam laughed and shook her head. “I know, I brought too much. I didn’t know how much I’d need, and I was afraid I’d spill paint on myself, so I brought extra clothes.”

“You’re fine,” I assured her, checking her off my clipboard and waiting for her to climb aboard. “Although, they do have aprons if you need them.”

Sam turned on the stairs and smiled back at me. “You underestimate my ability to make a mess!”

I laughed. “Fair enough. Just remember the rule: you make the mess…”

Sam jumped in to finish: “You clean it up! I know. I love that about the Library. I heard even the founder has to clean up after herself.”

“Lianne? Oh yeah, she’s good about that. Her dogs, on the other hand…”

“I heard about them too. Pretty spoiled, aren’t they?” Sam paused at the top of the stairs and grinned.

I shrugged. “Not really their fault. Everyone dotes on ’em, of course they’re spoiled. Just don’t overfeed the brown one. She’s getting chubby.”

Sam nodded and wandered down the aisle to find a seat. The bus wasn’t a big one, just what they’d call a “short bus” back when I was in school. I never had to ride one as a kid, but now I was driving one, seemed about right.

I checked my watch. Just after 8:00. With a half-hour drive, we’d be at the Library well before opening at 9:00.

“Alright, folks. Welcome to the Chaos Library,” I said, leaning on the back of the driver’s seat. “Hope you have a pleasant stay and make great memories. Just remember our number one rule.” I paused, and the passengers joined in with me in chorus, “Just be nice.”