I was a librarian in Monte Vista the day the Watcher spoke to me. The idea was a crazy one, romantic and reckless and so much like something from one of my books. I wouldn’t be a librarian anymore, but I could be so much more. If I was up to the challenge. And boy, was I ever up to the challenge.
My name is Eugenie Lore, and I can never resist a lost cause.
This story starts with an abandoned lot on a verdant bluff, occupied only by a golden knight gleaming in the sun. This was my new home. This was my destiny. This was my ruined credit score and imminent bankruptcy.
Thank goodness for Caller ID. Not today, Bank of Simerica!
This wasn’t just a story about a mysterious meadow and a homely librarian. Oh no, this was something straight out of the pages of meta fiction! Which is a very difficult genre to categorize, I’ll have you know! This town was a town of legend and lore, full of the living, breathing iterations of people I’ve read about so much. They are not self-aware, not like I am, and sadly, I am forbidden from marrying them. But, oh! How excited I am to meet my first bonafide celebrity!
I know all of them, of course. Like any good bookworm, I did my research.
Which also presented me with … an interesting loophole on the whole destitution thing. I haven’t quite run it past the Watcher yet, but there isn’t TECHNICALLY a rule against it. What’s “it” you say? Never you mind.
Why bother with tiresome business talk when I haven’t told you yet of my thrilling night in a misty labyrinth, fog swirling around my pale white calves as I rounded the corners of fragrant rosebush!
I know all about the Von Haunts and would’ve visited their home regardless, but how strange that the museum staff keeps the refrigerator stocked and running, don’t you think? With nothing but a flimsy velvet cord between me and strawberry yogurt.
Why, after hours, it’s not as though anyone will walk in on … let’s not call me a squatter, yes? How about “an interloper”
Besides. I didn’t find that obscure article about the abandoned maid’s quarters in the attic for nothing. That’s why, my friends, reading is king. And starting my new life in a mansion with tinkling fountains and fragrant rose blossoms outside my window … I could certainly do worse!
Of course, my first stop was the local library. After all, since I can no longer work the stacks, I have come up with a new idea – a monumental idea! And, as I told the superintendent back in Monte Vista, I didn’t digitize the
entire genealogy of the GilsCarbos and move our stacks collections to the cloud for nothing. I’m very good with computers. Very good.
I introduced myself to the local librarians. There was a blond bearded fellow restocking shelves and the head librarian, a lovely woman named Stella. A kindred soul, I believe! After all, why else would she drift so toward the smell of old leather and crinkled parchment.
Well, Stella is certainly more outgoing than I am, but she runs that library with an iron fist! Her neat trait would never allow otherwise. I complimented her glasses because, like mine, they are of a vintage sort and she snorted and said, “these aren’t
real, Gen. Can I call you Gen? They’re just part of the uniform.”
Well, we got to talking and when she heard that I’d bought “that crazy empty park with the random knight in it”, she insisted on buying me dinner. I insisted I couldn’t spare the expense and she kept saying, “No isn’t an option, come on, I know the cutest little tavern. Off we go, Gen. Ha! Like Gen 1. You’re here to build a legacy aren’t you? Wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole.”
And before I knew it, I’d been whisked downtown. The first thing I noticed when we entered the restaurant was … well, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.
“Morticia, WHERE are the French fries? We ordered ages ago.”
“Be still, darling. Where has Fester gotten to? I told him not to--”
“He’s over there discussing Foosball with Ned Stark, Mom.”
“Don’t interrupt your mother, Puglsy. SERVICE!”
Well, my jaw was on the floor! Wouldn’t yours be? I had half a mind to introduce myself when Stella moaned and cringed away from the bar.
“I say,” I marveled, my head swiveling away from Mr. Addams to focus on the most
fabulous bartender. “I thought he was a doctor.”
“He’s not a doctor. He’s not even a he, he’s just a ... a.”
“I’m a rich weirdo,” the bartender purred, giving Stella a very seductive up-and-down.
“Shut it, Frank!” Stella snapped, “You never return my calls.”
“You’re one to talk, darling,” he shot back. “Besides, you still have my bustier from our last date.”
“Ugh!” said Stella
"That's right!" Frank laughed, "And my Uggs! You do like to wear my things," he cackled.
“So you’ve been dating …” I stuttered. "Dr ... I mean Mr ... Miss ...?"
“You know that mistake you make over and over and over again?” Stella responded with a sigh. “You just met it.”
"I'll see you Thursday, Stella," Frank whispered.
"Just get outside," she said, giving me a little shove and tossing a look over her shoulder.
I got situated and stared at my menu, unsure what to say after all of that. The thing about Stella, the
great thing, is that you never have to sit in silence for long.
“Sooo …” Stella started, chewing on her lip. “Is that … get up. That outfit. Is it part of the kit and caboodle with the Knight lot or was it otherwise forced upon you or what?”
I blinked in surprise, “I don’t know what you mean. I’m very comfortable.”
“Are you though?”
“Shh!” she said suddenly, scrambling for her lip gloss. “It’s that dreamboat from the Secret Agent career who thinks anyone believes he’s a waiter.”
“What!” my eyes darted around, looking for the spy.
“Shh,” she giggled again, grabbing my hand. “I hear he thinks there are
aliens in Windenberg. Of all the absurd nonsense. Ooh here he comes. What a Fox!”
I had to admit. He was very handsome. But, what kind of Secret Agent believes in aliens?
“So, Gen,” Stella sighed, digging into her BLT. “Tell me all about this mission of yours and your big idea.”
some time later“So I’ll find a husband and start a long line. But also through this technology, set the entire tri-town area aflame with romance! I’m quite an expert, you know. And I can't wait to find my own one true love.”
“Hold up,” Stella said. “What do you mean by ‘expert’ exactly? I mean, no offense, babe, but you’re a little on the dowdy side. I get it, I really do, but #LibrarianLife ain’t gotta be all granny sweaters and beehives.”
“Well, I know all about courtly love. Galahad and Lancelot and the magic of Avalon. I live with a golden knight, don’t I?”
“Oh honey.”
“Of course I’ve never gone on a date myself or even been kissed, but surely those things happen on their own. That’s how it happens to all the heroines.”
“Mm.”
Well, the conversation went kind of quiet after that, but then Stella finished her third glass of red nectar, set down the glass, dropped simoleans on the table, and pulled me toward the gate.
"Where are we going?" I asked in alarm, stumbling after her in my sensible boater shoes.
"To a party," she laughed, spinning to face me, her eyes twinkling. "We've gotta get you out of that mumu if you're ever going to find your one true love."
"Oh, but I can't tonight, I have to program for two hours and tomorrow I must call and ask if they..."
She sighed, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh Gen. Just go in there and ask Frank. You can't win an argument with me."
"I'll see you at 10 sharp at the Von Haunt estate, okay babe?"
I sighed. "Oh all right."
