The Library Sequence - Part 1
- Waiting by the steps, the brown brick facade of the Park Slope library looms distantly in the immediate foreground. The dark grey sky leaks gently. Then the rain starts pelting me, ferociously drenching my clothes and my body. Lightning cracks the sullen morning and I know that this is the perfect setting for a royal rumble, or perhaps a survivor series. I decide to wait inside.
For nearly just a few days, Oasis the cat has been ripping me a new one on his stupid blog. I’ve come here to gain some sort of mutual understanding with him in which he sees everything my way. I’ll choke that chicken until he gives me his username and password so that I can delete his website.
Crash. Bang. Thunder.
I walk up the drippy granite stoop, open the hefty black iron doors, and enter the building. Covered in wetness, I find a seat at a study table, grab a Men’s Health from the magazine rack and scan with my eyes beyond the magazine for signs of the doomed fleabag. Nothing.
“So that’s how you get terriffic abs in just three weeks,” I say after reading an impressive article on 6-packs. I’ve been doing it all wrong. I flip the pages, drops from my wet hair hit them. “Ohh..what’s this? Secrets to the best sex ever? Huh. I never thought of thrusting...thanks Men's Health.”
So, I’m sitting approximately 5 meters away from the public internet terminals. I figure it’s just a matter of moments before Oasis shows up. I’ve noticed that it’s usually around one or so in the afternoon when he types in his Catster diary, I can only assume it takes eons to write them because he lacks the human digits optimal for a Qwerty keyboard. The whole process is still sort of unclear to me.
I pick up a GQ from the shelves to help pass the time like a painful stool. "Oh, so these are the new fall fashions...corduroy, huh?" I mumble to myself as the storm outside seems to be picking up.
And then, something happens.
A reddish brown streak races across the floor. Swoosh.
Was that a rat? Was that Oasis? WTF??
Again. Swoosh. The streak is so fast. My eyes couldn't even register what it is.
Ker-aack. Baanng. This thunder feels particularly close. I look up at the fluorescent lights as the power in the library flickers.
"AAAaaaahhh!" I scream. A librarian whispers back, "SSShhhhhhh!" My shins are suddenly in searing pain. "God bless America, this hurts!" I look down at my legs and see the bottoms of my pleated khakis turning crimson, blood sopping through my pants.
Something just cut me. Bad.