The Lake and the Library (6 page)

Laughing in his almost noiseless way, he physically zoomed in for another take. The flash went off, but without result. His elation deflated as he shook the thing at his ear.

“It's out of
film
,” I sang tauntingly, stealing the thing back before he could chuck it elsewhere. “I'll get more, don't cry about it.”

After stowing the camera and the pictures safely in my bag, I turned to see that Li had adopted his never-ending stare tactic again, blinking and expectant, eyes boring deep into me like twin mining drills. I pushed a stray bit of hair behind my ear, trying to ignore how my face was getting hot, and looked down.

“Look, I . . . I'm really grateful for yesterday, you know. You were gone before I could
really
thank you, so I'm glad you're here again and that I could say thank you properly . . . even though you're sort of a scary kleptomaniac, but I don't mind, really, there are weirder things to be . . . but yeah, I just wanted to say thanks, and I'm also glad you're here, because there are a few things that have been bugging me about this place, about yesterday, the whole thing with my hand . . . and how you got in here, too—”

When I looked back up he was closer than before, still staring, and I reflexively nudged him on the shoulder to get the message across; if he moved any closer I'd be impaled on his angled nose.

“You've gotta stop that,” I said, standing my ground. “You don't have to keep staring. If there's something you wanna say, just say it.”

Parting his hair from his eyes, Li looked away, ashamed, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap. I waited for him to say something, anything, and just as I was about to lay into him for ignoring me, for playing this terrible game with me that wasn't funny anymore, I saw what little colour he had was draining from his cheeks. He put a slender-fingered hand around his neck, looked me straight in the eye, and shook his head. A breath hissed and caught in my throat as it thickened.

“Oh,” I said, sounding just as dumb as I felt. “Oh. I'm so sorry. I just thought you . . . I don't know
what
I thought, I guess.”
Mute-button eternal. Maybe
you
should practice that every once in a while, Ash . . .

Li waved his hands, trying to make it seem like it really wasn't that big a deal. He patted me on the shoulder, reached over, and picked up half of my pile so he could have a good look, too. We sat in the musty quiet, all the hundreds of questions I had suddenly seeming pretty mediocre and small. I felt like I had no right to talk, worried and embarrassed that it would make Li feel bad. He nudged me in the ribs, probably sensing this, trying to get me to lighten up. I scooped up a Polaroid.

“This one's my favourite so far,” I said, handing over a close-up of the deer clock. “I wish you hadn't wasted all that film. I don't have a proper one of you, but hundreds of me.”

He made a noise like
tsk,
rolling his eyes. The pictures were my proof. Maybe I needed proof that he was real, too. At least today he looked more apt to play, happier, lit up from the inside, even. My mind kept flashing between the relaxed smile of now to the drawn and worried grimace of then. Was he here hiding from something? Or someone . . .

Tabitha
. I fumbled through my bag for my cell, checking the time. Two missed alerts.
Damn, I was supposed to be over there half an hour ago
.

“Oh, God, sorry. I have to go.” I scrambled to my feet. The library was meant to be my apology card, and all the proof of it, too. It had been my bright idea to document everything I could, then flash it at her as a means of bandaging over our sour parting yesterday. But as soon as I had slipped in here, my intentions fell away behind me.

Li got up just as fast, and as I was shouldering my bag and making my way to go, he was in my path. “I really have to go,” I tried, ducking around him. I couldn't play with him forever, even though, I thought suddenly, I'd like to.

He grabbed me by the bag but I yanked free, serving him a triumphant raspberry as I bounded off.

“You're holding me up, crazy boy,” I shouted, words ricocheting here and there off shelves and balcony rails as I skipped down the stairs. “We'll talk more again, sometime . . . Well,
I'll
talk more, right?”

I looked up at the railing where Li had followed as far as the landing would allow, stopping at the edge restlessly. I genuinely thought he was going to try to swan dive after me, his confident trickster mask cracking free.
Will I see you again?
his apprehension whispered.

I tried to offer a flimsy buffer of comfort, because I felt he deserved it. “I'll come back soon. We seem to like the same haunts. I'm sure we'll see each other again.”

His eyes darted around the room, frustrated. He was searching for words without sound, so he plucked them from the air with his fingers. Point to me, point to him, panoramic hand view.

“Me, you, here?” I translated. His nod was more than eager, body dangerously pressed to the railing in order to be close without jumping down. I laughed and rocked on my heels. “What makes you think I spend my summers meeting crazy thief boys in abandoned libraries?”

Shrilling out a whistle, he twirled his finger at his temple and pointed at me.

“
I'm
the crazy one?”

Curt nod.

I couldn't help it. He was master and commander of an entire circus all on his own, and I didn't mind coming along for the tour. He was the colour and poetry that Treade owed me.

“All right!” I agreed. “When?”

He held out his hand, beckoning me for an offer.

“Tomorrow?” I laughed. “How about tomorrow?”

The corners of his lips twitched like nothing could make him happier. I had never felt so wanted with so few words to prove it, and it made my chest expand as I found my exit hole. Could there really be something
that
special about me? A candid thought reverberated sharply through me as I squeezed out into the open, trying to avoid clumps of mud and wall debris.

Li was just one more
last
to add to this summer's list.

I rounded Tabitha's downhill bay, trying to keep my knees in check on the slope so I wouldn't find myself with a mouthful of sidewalk. My sheer, brilliant excitement alone propelled me like a meteor. Two days had been enough time for me to keep all this a secret. Tabs had to know, had just as much right as me to know, and soon there would be no dissension, no hurt, only lasting memories.

And right after, we'd pass the story on to Paul, the words and inspiration slipping out of me like twinkling coins into his lap. Our reunion would electrify our tender souls back to life. The three of us would bask in this new adventure, this new sanctuary, relishing in the tale with each dive into it. After all the time we'd spent dreaming, the mystery would be ours. Our escape. Until time moved us on and tapped us out.

I came to the bottom of the bay hill, bag slapping feverishly against my back. The kingdom would be ours, and I had just the thing to get Tabitha back in on it.

My mind shunted so suddenly onto Li that it made me jerk to a stop just a house away from Tabitha's. His desperate, pleading eyes jutted out like chalk lines on asphalt, gemstones in the depths:

You, me, here?

He'd been in the library before me. The kingdom couldn't truly be mine, Tabitha's, or Paul's. Not really. Not with the brotherhood that Li's feet seemed to share with the floors and the walls, making him able to navigate the darkest shadow to save my sorry self. I had him to thank for letting me live to see this adventure come true. What would I tell them about Li, when I knew so little? Where did he go after I left? And had I ever seen him in town before? A population of under 3,000 made it hard to miss a face, but . . . there he was. At first he was so aloof and closed in, until he transformed into a wild mischief-maker needing chase and attention. So many fragmented aspects. Schizophrenic, joyful stranger — what could I expect from him?
Who
are
you, mystery boy?

But his eyes, afraid of being lied to, afraid I would disappear in front of them. The teasing, the playing. It felt like this sharp expression of gratefulness for something I didn't know I had done. He was the one who had saved
me
, after all.

I'd promised Li I'd see him tomorrow
. I owe him more than I can imagine
, I suddenly realized. More than a promise, anyway. It hit me harder as I walked slower down the sidewalk, the enthusiasm draining into the cracks I stared at. I suddenly felt trapped between two worlds, unable to compromise or cultivate the promises I had made to either one.

Just him and me
. How would he feel if the others were there? He could say nothing, his silence worse than words.

I woke up from all the thoughts shuddering behind my eyes like caged moths, and found myself on Tabitha's doorstep. My hand was poised on the knocker, even though I didn't even remember putting it there. I was so close, but the hesitation reel had caught into my skin and was pulling me back. I wanted to tell Tabs, I did, but a roughshod series of bad reasons made me drop my hand as I talked myself out of being accountable. I mean, to be fair, maybe her spark had gone out after all. If I gave her this last ember back, this little flicker, she'd expect more from me. So would Paul. Just as we were attempting the cut, we'd be freshly reattached at the hip. Maybe she was right. “You've let go, Ash, why can't we?” she had said, and the words assaulted me, even now. No, I decided. I couldn't tell her. My poor string of logic as to why I couldn't, though, was constructed by a careful, quiet shadow, one that wanted nothing and no one else to interfere with what it felt it had so long deserved. I wasn't willing to see that it was there, waiting in the pit of my stomach, so I let it have its way.

As I leaped off the doorstep and paced down the driveway, I suddenly felt like I was doing everyone a favour by keeping the secret close. That maybe it would be a better idea to share it later in the game, after I'd left, after the library was a blank slot in an empty town archive. I didn't want to disappoint anyone anymore, that was for sure, and I never wanted to see that look of absolute disenchantment on Tabitha's face again.

“Ash?”

End of the driveway, getaway averted, I jerked to a stop on one foot and pirouetted. There was Tabitha, door open, eyebrow cocked at me. In my blank surprise, I twitched out a smile.

“Hey, Tabs. Sorry — I, um. Didn't think you were home. No one answered when I knocked.”

Liar.

She shut the door, barring the dog from leaping out behind her as she crossed the front garden and huffed a curl out of her eye.

“Didn't hear a knock,” she said. “You could've texted.”

Trapped. “Right. Well. I left my phone at home. Stupid.”

Still lying.

We were silent, awkward. Then Tabitha blurted, “I'm sorry for yesterday, Ash. It's just . . . it's gonna be hard, you know, when you're gone. It's not because of—”

“No, no,” I sighed, smiling, glad the ice was finally melting, “it's okay, Tabs. I understand. It's okay.”

Looking away, eyes misty, she shrugged one shoulder and the subject dropped dead away into the concrete beneath our feet. I abandoned the stupid idea of not telling her about the library, my resolve cracking. I wanted to heal that heartbreak lining her face and wordless mouth. I pawed around in my bag for my pile of Polaroid Band-Aids — my own remedy for the soon-to-be wounds.

“Hey, I wanted to show you this,” I said, fingers scrounging in excited plunges past my camera. They hit the bottom and found nothing else. I paused and kept looking, nearly putting my entire head in there, but my bag was empty, save one picture I looked at guardedly: the first photo I had taken of the library before going in. There was a fist around my heart.

Tabitha leaned in, speculating from her advantageous height. “Well? What is it?”

I couldn't decide if it was a blessing or not that the pictures had been stolen from me, yet again. Nervously, uncomfortably, I laughed a bit and shouldered the bag. “Damn. Must've left it at home. I have to go, though; didn't tell Mum I was going out. She's been having crazy mood swings with the move so close. She'll flip, you know?”

Tabitha's disappointment was palpable, but her confusion surmounted it. “You came all the way over here, though. Are you sure you can't just tell me what it is?”

I was already taking painful steps to leave her driveway. “No, no. I want to show you first. Anyway! I promise I'll show you tomorrow.”

She just shrugged and came down off the steps to bundle me into a hug before I bounced away with a wave. We'd reconciled halfway. That was better than nothing.

“Bye, Tabs!”

As I curved round the corner, out of Tabitha's view, my eyes winced shut and I squeezed my arms around myself. In a kinetic mind flash I could see, could
feel
, Li grappling with my bag to keep me back in the library. My imagination made up for the interlude where I wasn't looking at him, and he must've grabbed the picture pile. I had felt them in my hand. I had taken them. They were solid. I opened my eyes and looked at said hand, the one that had met with so much trouble still disturbingly uninjured.