Cassandra hit the "Play" button on the remote control as she bounced happily onto the sofa next to Jenkins. As the dvd hummed to life, she snuggled up next to the large, nattily-dressed man waiting for her there.
"Eve loaned me both of these movies," she chattered eagerly. "She said they're a couple of her favorites from Steven Spielberg."
"I'm sure if Colonel Baird recommended them, then they're well worth seeing," Jenkins replied agreeably. Dear God in heaven, he prayed fervently to himself, please don't let one of them be that ridiculous nonsense about that archaeologist fellow and his so–called quest for the Holy Grail...
It turned out to be a far worse ordeal for the old Caretaker than Grail-obsessed Nazis. The movie now playing was 'The Color Purple', and five minutes in Cassandra was already sobbing uncontrollably. As Celie's father took away her newborn baby, Jenkins wrapped his arm around the distraught Librarian comfortingly. Fortunately, there was a box of tissues on the end table for just such an emergency, and he quickly handed her one.
Throughout the entire film, Cassandra cried: Tears of overwhelming sadness whenever something awful happened to Celie; tears of unbridled joy when something good happened. During the especially emotional scenes—such as when Mister drove Celie's beloved sister away from their house after he tried to rape her—Cassandra was inconsolable, though Jenkins tried. He gently hugged her closer to himself, kissed the top of her head, murmured soothingly, handed her a fresh tissue.
"Oh, Jenkins! Poor Celie!" she repeated over and over throughout the entire movie. For two and a half hours, they sat together, glued to the sofa, as the tragic story played out on the large TV screen. When Celie was finally, joyfully reunited with her long-lost children and sister, a fresh burst of tears streamed from the Cassandra's red eyes. As she mopped her face with yet another tissue, she suddenly heard a gasping sob coming from her right. Turning, she was astonished to see Jenkins wiping tears from his dark, red-rimmed eyes and weeping just a feely as she was.
"Jenkins?" she breathed. Surprised to see the normally stoic immortal so emotional, she took his hand and squeezed it hard. "Jenkins! Have you been...crying? This whole time? Because of the movie?"
The older man sheepishly glanced to his left. There on the floor at his feet was a large pile of used tissues, and limply draped over the arm of the sofa was Jenkins's sodden handkerchief. She looked back at him, her own tears forgotten.
"I'm afraid I have a confession to make, my dear," he said, embarrassed to have been caught. "This is one of my favorite films. I've seen it well over 200 times since it was first released."
"Really?" she asked, blinking in wonder. "And you still cry when you see it?"
"Every single time. From the moment it begins until the moment it ends."
Cassandra was suddenly fascinated by the idea that someone as self-possessed as Jenkins could be so moved to tears by a chick-flick. "Why do you like it so much?" she asked.
"Believe it or not, I relate to Miss Celie," he said, moving closer to the sniffling young woman. "Very different circumstances, of course, but I know what it's like to have loved ones torn away from me. I know what it's like to suffer abuse of all kinds at the hands of others. I know what it feels like to have to merely survive life rather than live it. I know what it's like to cling so desperately to hope, no matter how weak and fragile it is."
His dark eyes took on a distant, dreamy look. "One always needs hope, Cassandra. One always has to have the hope of finding happiness one day, of finding joy. To do otherwise would mean suffering an existence infinitely worse than death."
With a deep breath he suddenly came back to himself. He looked into Cassandra's watery blue eyes, and smiled. The Librarian felt her heart skip a beat. She loved his smile, always so gentle and kind.
"Fortunately, my own hope has finally been rewarded," he murmured warmly. "Though it seems that the color of my hope turns out not to be purple." He reached out and ran his fingers lightly through her silky hair.
"It's red."
Cassandra dropped her gaze, blinking back yet another wave of tears. She looked up again and softly brushed his face with her fingers as they moved to stroke his thick locks.
"Mine's white."
Jenkins crooked his finger beneath her chin and lightly tipped her head up as he kissed her. His arms slipped around her and he nuzzled her face affectionately until his lips were next to her ear. "I love you so much, Cassandra," he whispered.
"I love you, too," she breathed back with renewed sniffles. Extricating herself, she quickly reached for the tissue box. "Sorry—Tissue time!" Cassandra sing-songed apologetically.
The immortal chuckled and patted the pretty girl's knee. "Well, shall we watch the second movie now, or are we all cried out for one night?"
The Librarian laughed as she added the fresh tissue to her own pile of soggy ones. "I'm game if you are," she said bravely. "Besides, the second one is an action/adventure, so we don't have to worry about dehydrating ourselves any further."
"Excellent!" Jenkins said. "What's the title?"
She picked up the dvd case and read from the cover as she went to the disc player to switch out the movies. "'Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade'."
Jenkins's head fell back as he closed his eyes and grimaced silently in anticipated pain.
"Ready?" Cassandra chirped as she hurried back to the sofa.
The Caretaker's head snapped back up, a Cheshire cat grin plastered on his face, and he settled back into the sofa. He wrapped her in his arms, quietly steeling himself against the intellectual and historical horror show that was about to begin tormenting him with inaccuracy after inaccuracy after inaccuracy.
"Ready as I'll ever be, my love."