fill: in the moonlight, on a joy ride [1b]
anonymous
September 20 2011, 14:57:38 UTC
**** He does apply, filling out the form while Hank chortles in the background and it’s only because Emma knows him that he probably gets in. She’s the only one that’s nice out of all the staff. Shaw who’s the Senior Administrative Officer is a nightmare apparently; the Nazi is what they call him.
It’s not so bad though. He learns how to organise the books, how to help Emma enter the cataloguing data into the library's automated system, though Shaw is the one who actually sits down and trains Charles when it comes to the online catalogue and how to search it.
‘You will not put the Bible into the fiction section,’ he tells Charles sternly the first time they meet, and there’s a moment of panic because, well, technically he did do this, but only because Hank dared him to. He can’t say for certain if Shaw is saying this because he suspects Charles’ involvement or because he thinks Charles is a typical hooligan.’ You must label all the books with Emma and adhere to the system…..’ after that Charles sort of zones out, and can’t help but notice the large number of nose-hairs protruding from Shaw.
****
It’s in his second week that Charles struggles a little. It’s simple enough the task at hand but it’s the one thing he can’t always get right, particularly when there isn’t a ladder around.
One of the things Shaw has handed over to him is the job to lug the book cart around for the second floor, it’s his ‘responsibility, the highest honour,’ according to Shaw for a man of his standing. He’s responsible for returning the books on the third floor, which is fine with Charles because it’s the Classics section and it means he can toss around and waste a few hours without Shaw sussing it out. Moody old man that he is with quivering jowls and hacking coughs.
It’s the least crowded area, which is funny because Charles always expected the girls from his English class to be loitering around here, but there’s nothing except for quietness and worn spines and sunlight coming through slightly dusty windows. It’s nice.
He’s got a copy of Sense and Sensibility and it belongs to the top shelf, which would be funny if Charles could reach the damn thing. In his defense he’s a growing boy, there’s still time despite the fact the Raven is only two inches away from his height. He stretches up on his tiptoes, hand gripping one of the shelves as he tries valiantly to reach the top as the hard edges of the wood press against his stomach.
He’s about to give up when he feels a something on his hip and he freezes, the touch like a hot brand searing its way to his skin. Someone snags the book out of his hand, rough skin brushing against his, and places it where it belongs. Charles turns around and comes face to face with a tall man with eyes that are hard to figure out if they’re blue or green. He doesn;t look like he belongs in a library.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I thought you might need help,’ and Charles can’t help but feel the way his thumb is rubbing circles against his hip, he’s damn sure of it, until the stranger pulls back and moves away leaving Charles blushing a furious shade of red.
‘Uh, right….thanks,’ Charles manages, but the man is already moving and turning the other way into the next aisle.
Charles is left feeling slightly dazed and flushed, the edges of the shelves digging into his back.
He does apply, filling out the form while Hank chortles in the background and it’s only because Emma knows him that he probably gets in. She’s the only one that’s nice out of all the staff. Shaw who’s the Senior Administrative Officer is a nightmare apparently; the Nazi is what they call him.
It’s not so bad though. He learns how to organise the books, how to help Emma enter the cataloguing data into the library's automated system, though Shaw is the one who actually sits down and trains Charles when it comes to the online catalogue and how to search it.
‘You will not put the Bible into the fiction section,’ he tells Charles sternly the first time they meet, and there’s a moment of panic because, well, technically he did do this, but only because Hank dared him to. He can’t say for certain if Shaw is saying this because he suspects Charles’ involvement or because he thinks Charles is a typical hooligan.’ You must label all the books with Emma and adhere to the system…..’ after that Charles sort of zones out, and can’t help but notice the large number of nose-hairs protruding from Shaw.
****
It’s in his second week that Charles struggles a little. It’s simple enough the task at hand but it’s the one thing he can’t always get right, particularly when there isn’t a ladder around.
One of the things Shaw has handed over to him is the job to lug the book cart around for the second floor, it’s his ‘responsibility, the highest honour,’ according to Shaw for a man of his standing. He’s responsible for returning the books on the third floor, which is fine with Charles because it’s the Classics section and it means he can toss around and waste a few hours without Shaw sussing it out. Moody old man that he is with quivering jowls and hacking coughs.
It’s the least crowded area, which is funny because Charles always expected the girls from his English class to be loitering around here, but there’s nothing except for quietness and worn spines and sunlight coming through slightly dusty windows. It’s nice.
He’s got a copy of Sense and Sensibility and it belongs to the top shelf, which would be funny if Charles could reach the damn thing. In his defense he’s a growing boy, there’s still time despite the fact the Raven is only two inches away from his height. He stretches up on his tiptoes, hand gripping one of the shelves as he tries valiantly to reach the top as the hard edges of the wood press against his stomach.
He’s about to give up when he feels a something on his hip and he freezes, the touch like a hot brand searing its way to his skin. Someone snags the book out of his hand, rough skin brushing against his, and places it where it belongs. Charles turns around and comes face to face with a tall man with eyes that are hard to figure out if they’re blue or green. He doesn;t look like he belongs in a library.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I thought you might need help,’ and Charles can’t help but feel the way his thumb is rubbing circles against his hip, he’s damn sure of it, until the stranger pulls back and moves away leaving Charles blushing a furious shade of red.
‘Uh, right….thanks,’ Charles manages, but the man is already moving and turning the other way into the next aisle.
Charles is left feeling slightly dazed and flushed, the edges of the shelves digging into his back.
****
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