Providence
formerly known as: Untitled (6)
When we're inside, she goes to look for a book she's heard about while I go to find an employee. I find one putting some books up from a cart.
"Pardon me, but-" I start, then stop once she looks at me. My mouth stays agape in shock and I flounder about, trying to speak, trying to breathe, but I can't seem to pull it together. I glance at her name badge. "Beatrix". Beatrix has shoulder length medium brown hair with a red tint. She also has these piercing blue eyes with a soft edge. She's slim and slightly muscular, as if she works out. She is beautiful. She...
She raises an eyebrow, "Can I help you?"
I force myself to swallow, inhale, then talk (in that order), "Yes. I'd like some..assistance looking through the old newspaper articles." I'm surprised that I could actually make a coherant sentence.
"The machine is really simple to use," she tells me while leading me towards the back of the library. She walks with confidence, using large strides. She looks so happy to be helping someone. I feel a familiar tightening in my throat, and shamefully the same twinge goes through my groin. By the time we enter the room with the machine, my legs are shaking and my eyes are burning.
"You use the browser to choose which date and newspaper you'd like to see, then you can choose it down to the section, the page number..everything," she explains, taking a seat at the computer, "So let's say I want to see what happened in sports on July first of last year in West City. I just type it in.. and press enter and... there you go!" The screen comes up, but it becomes blurred as I battle this internal struggle.
"If you need anything else, don't hesitate t-" she lets her sentence die when she looks back at me.
"S-Sorry.." I choke out, covering my face for her sake.
"Are you alright?" Beatrix inquires, looking genuinely concerned.
I decide to tell her the truth. "You just..You look like my late wife," I explain, trying to smile for her benefit.
"Oh.." she seems taken aback.
"It's alright," I assure her, "It's..not your fault. Please, I do need your help though. I was looking for an event, but I can't remember what year it was."
"Ok," she says, trying to compose herself as if it would do the same for me, "Could you tell me what event it was?"
"The Capsule Corporation merger."
"That was a while ago," Beatrix comments while typing in some information, "A long while ago." She decides to recite what she's doing, I suppose to distract me, or she's trying to make the situation less uncomfortable, "Here you can search the article titles by entering in key words. I'm going to put in 'Capsule' and 'merger' and choose between sixty and forty years ago, because I can't remember what year that happened in exactly. And... Here's our search results. This one looks promising." She opens it up, and it does look promising. "Anything else I can help you with?" she wants to know.
I shake my head and she gets up. She smiles warmly, as if she's trying to cheer me up. "Just ask for me if you need me?" she offers. When Beatrix is gone, I feel both happy and sad. So strange how often I feel both at once.
To distract myself, I browse the papers for awhile, looking for something in specific. I find it, and then I wait for Josie to find me. Eventually, I give up on the waiting game and seek her down. She was waiting in the lobby for me to come out. Go figure. "Hey," I grab her attention, "Come see this." Josie follows me to the back and looks at me quizzically.
"What's this?" she glances at the picture but then looks back at me.
"This is a photo from the Capsule Corporation merger. It was taken fifty-seven years ago," I inform her. She looks at it again before returning to me once more. She's looking in the wrong spot for answers.
"Okay?" she questions. She has no idea why she's looking at this photo. I sigh and smirk.
"Who's standing next to Bulma Briefs?" I ask of her.
When she looks up at the picture - actually looks at it - she jumps to her feet. It's amusing what you don't see when you let your mind be ruled by logic. Logic says I couldn't look the same then as I do now. No way. It simply isn't possible. No matter how much plastic surgery you do, you still won't look the same. Yet, here comes that inkling of a doubt. Could it be, really? Could this be the same man? The photo is so clear. The hair, the eyes, the face..everything is the same. How come he doesn't look any older? Is this truly the same man?
I toss a small photograph on the table in front of her. She picks it up.
"Josie, meet my wife and kids," I speak quietly.
"You'd have to be...that'd make you...you're..you're..." she stumbles for words. Her mind is telling her two conflicting stories. A two-sided logic. One part says that no one can live that long without becoming a mass of wrinkles and false teeth. Another part says that that's true if you're a human. It's almost amusing. I spare her and finish her train of thought.
"I'm quite old. Yes."
She says nothing.
formerly known as: Untitled (6)
When we're inside, she goes to look for a book she's heard about while I go to find an employee. I find one putting some books up from a cart.
"Pardon me, but-" I start, then stop once she looks at me. My mouth stays agape in shock and I flounder about, trying to speak, trying to breathe, but I can't seem to pull it together. I glance at her name badge. "Beatrix". Beatrix has shoulder length medium brown hair with a red tint. She also has these piercing blue eyes with a soft edge. She's slim and slightly muscular, as if she works out. She is beautiful. She...
She raises an eyebrow, "Can I help you?"
I force myself to swallow, inhale, then talk (in that order), "Yes. I'd like some..assistance looking through the old newspaper articles." I'm surprised that I could actually make a coherant sentence.
"The machine is really simple to use," she tells me while leading me towards the back of the library. She walks with confidence, using large strides. She looks so happy to be helping someone. I feel a familiar tightening in my throat, and shamefully the same twinge goes through my groin. By the time we enter the room with the machine, my legs are shaking and my eyes are burning.
"You use the browser to choose which date and newspaper you'd like to see, then you can choose it down to the section, the page number..everything," she explains, taking a seat at the computer, "So let's say I want to see what happened in sports on July first of last year in West City. I just type it in.. and press enter and... there you go!" The screen comes up, but it becomes blurred as I battle this internal struggle.
"If you need anything else, don't hesitate t-" she lets her sentence die when she looks back at me.
"S-Sorry.." I choke out, covering my face for her sake.
"Are you alright?" Beatrix inquires, looking genuinely concerned.
I decide to tell her the truth. "You just..You look like my late wife," I explain, trying to smile for her benefit.
"Oh.." she seems taken aback.
"It's alright," I assure her, "It's..not your fault. Please, I do need your help though. I was looking for an event, but I can't remember what year it was."
"Ok," she says, trying to compose herself as if it would do the same for me, "Could you tell me what event it was?"
"The Capsule Corporation merger."
"That was a while ago," Beatrix comments while typing in some information, "A long while ago." She decides to recite what she's doing, I suppose to distract me, or she's trying to make the situation less uncomfortable, "Here you can search the article titles by entering in key words. I'm going to put in 'Capsule' and 'merger' and choose between sixty and forty years ago, because I can't remember what year that happened in exactly. And... Here's our search results. This one looks promising." She opens it up, and it does look promising. "Anything else I can help you with?" she wants to know.
I shake my head and she gets up. She smiles warmly, as if she's trying to cheer me up. "Just ask for me if you need me?" she offers. When Beatrix is gone, I feel both happy and sad. So strange how often I feel both at once.
To distract myself, I browse the papers for awhile, looking for something in specific. I find it, and then I wait for Josie to find me. Eventually, I give up on the waiting game and seek her down. She was waiting in the lobby for me to come out. Go figure. "Hey," I grab her attention, "Come see this." Josie follows me to the back and looks at me quizzically.
"What's this?" she glances at the picture but then looks back at me.
"This is a photo from the Capsule Corporation merger. It was taken fifty-seven years ago," I inform her. She looks at it again before returning to me once more. She's looking in the wrong spot for answers.
"Okay?" she questions. She has no idea why she's looking at this photo. I sigh and smirk.
"Who's standing next to Bulma Briefs?" I ask of her.
When she looks up at the picture - actually looks at it - she jumps to her feet. It's amusing what you don't see when you let your mind be ruled by logic. Logic says I couldn't look the same then as I do now. No way. It simply isn't possible. No matter how much plastic surgery you do, you still won't look the same. Yet, here comes that inkling of a doubt. Could it be, really? Could this be the same man? The photo is so clear. The hair, the eyes, the face..everything is the same. How come he doesn't look any older? Is this truly the same man?
I toss a small photograph on the table in front of her. She picks it up.
"Josie, meet my wife and kids," I speak quietly.
"You'd have to be...that'd make you...you're..you're..." she stumbles for words. Her mind is telling her two conflicting stories. A two-sided logic. One part says that no one can live that long without becoming a mass of wrinkles and false teeth. Another part says that that's true if you're a human. It's almost amusing. I spare her and finish her train of thought.
"I'm quite old. Yes."
She says nothing.