Chapter 3
Well, the night was over. First there was that stuck-up snob of a vampire and then there were those furry gangsters. No, Algernon did not like the night, when such unsavory characters were about. He preferred the day, when one was more apt to see the many friendly, if perhaps a little bland, personalities that grow familiar and fond.
"Mail's here." Said one of the volunteers, bringing in the mail from outside. As Algernon lived in the library, he also received his personal mail there. Not that he got much of it. They could mostly be assorted into the various things – bills, taxes, the occasional magazine, junkmail, and what appeared to be a normal, personal letter.
Algernon looked at the envelope, puzzled but not particularly caring. Seeing someone approach the desk, likely for some kind of help, he took the mail and put it into a desk drawer for later reading.
Algernon recognized him. He was that kid who would pick up a certain famous book, read it for a few minutes, and put it back on the shelf.
"I checked the computers, looking for Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, but all the copies in the library seemed gone."
Algernon sighed. Not again. "Must've gone missing. Her books have a habit of doing that. Tell you what – I'll see if I can find it, if I can't, I'll order a new copy. I'll put you on the waiting list and send you an email when-"
"No…" the kid said. "I don't need that. I was just wondering if you had it. Thanks." He said, turning and leaving.
Algernon rolled his eyes. Figures, he thought. Figures that the people who dislike Ayn Rand would be glad to be rid of her books, while the people who do like Ayn Rand probably wouldn't be too fond of public libraries. Ahh, well. Hopefully the book would turn up, or he'd just have to order another copy.
The law students wouldn't be there until next Sunday, as their study group was only once a week. Likewise, it'd be two weeks until the lady who liked the audiobooks would be back.
But there were other people here today. There were some volunteers from the high school there to do some community service work – there was a boy and a girl who came to entertain the little kids who weren't in pre-school for whatever reason. They usually put on a skit or read from Dr. Seuss or Shel Silverstein.
"Knock knock"
"Who's there?"
"Me."
"Me who?"
"That's right!"
"What's right?"
"Meehoo!"
Etcetera.
Algernon took out his pitcher of water and took his medication for the day.
"Yes, exactly!"
"Exactly what?"
"Yes, I have an Exactlywatt on a chain!"
Etcetera. Algernon began to wonder to himself why exactly those two were here at the library instead of at school? Well, it didn't really matter, as his mind was off of the subject as soon as someone presented him with a book to be stamped. One thing that did not leave his mind, however, was that envelope addressed to him. That was unusual.
When he had some time, he took the envelope with him into the office. He looked at it. It was fancy, red, and ornate. On it was written in the most pretentious cursive imaginable,
"To: Mr. Algernon Williams."
Algernon took the letter opener from his desk and opened it. Inside was a sheet of paper, also fancy and also covered in pretentious cursive writing.
"Dear Mr. Algernon Williams,
I really do not believe I'm well-acquainted with you, and I don't believe any our other colleagues know you either. As such, I have decided to extend an invitation to you for a party I am holding this Sunday evening. I thought it might be a nice opportunity for you to come out and meet others like yourself. Also, if you don't mind me saying so, I think it'd do you well to go out a bit more. It isn't healthy for a man like you to stay shut inside all day. That simply won't do. Not for your health and not for your social life. I expect you to attend, as I expect all those who I have sent personalized, hand-written invitations to attend. There might be someone there you'll be surprised to meet.
Sincerely,
Sir Roderick Morgan"
Algernon scanned over it once more before setting it down. "Colleagues?" Really? Was that really the best "not-going-to-alert-mortals-to-our-existence" euphemism he could come up with?
Algernon wasn't particularly one for parties, either. Unless there was a piano in the room, he always found himself painfully bored. Not that a piano would help now, as he was out of practice and his fingers had grown stiff for whatever reason. Parties were a thing that he'd tried in college, didn't enjoy, and never bothered with again. Besides, it's not like he had any friends who would invite him.
Except for some hoity-toity vampires. Why on earth would he want him to come? Probably another crack at buying Algernon's prey. Well, no, Algernon decided. He wouldn't give Roderick a single drop of blood from the library.
Besides, in all his years as a vampire, as few as those may have been, he had never set foot outside of the library.