I wake up screaming again and Charlie charges in the room like I'm being murdered. I start crying softly and he sits at the edge of the bed, pats my leg a few times and stays there until I quiet down. When I wake up he's still at the foot of my bed, his legs still hanging off the edge of the bed and at some point he had laid down and fell fast asleep.
"Charlie," I say in a hoarse voice and he barely moves, so I gently kick him, "Charlie," still nothing. "Dad!"
And he's up with a loud snort, sitting straight up and then turns to me, "Bells?"
"I'm okay Dad, you can go back to bed."
He smiles at me, with his eyes still mostly closed and pats my leg before he gets up and hobbles back to his room. I lay back down and feel myself start to cry again, but for a different reason.
A few hours later I get out of bed, the sun still lazily making it's way up over the horizon as I pull on a pair of jeans and another thick hoodie. I pull on wool socks and shoves my feet into my Doc Martens, pulling my hair up in a messy bun as I slowly make my way down the stairs and put a pot of coffee on.
I step outside in the freezing morning air and find the paper on the sidewalk, taking it inside and setting it on the kitchen table as I grab a mug to pour myself some coffee. I sit back down on the kitchen table and begin to peruse the paper. There was a news story about a few missing hikers, a young couple that had left two days ago into the mountains and hadn't been seen, also a sighting of a few extra large bears which was weird, and then I came across the Jobs section and thought I would check it out. I read through a few of the listings for waitressing, a sales clerk at a clothing store, a night shift security officer and then a library technician. I thought about that for a minute: the smell of books, the quiet, the unlimited access to any book in any genre and for the first time in a while I felt excited about something. So I grabbed the flip phone I left on the table to charge that Charlie insisted on me having and took a picture, I think the only picture I had ever taken on my phone. My eyes flicked to the digital clock on my phone: 7:02am. I had another hour until the library opened and I could go in and inquire about the position.
When I finished my coffee I started back upstairs and headed to the bathroom, running into Charlie as he opened his bedroom door.
"Morning kiddo," he says in a hoarse groggy voice.
"Hey," I say, heading into my room to grab a change of clothes.
"Got any plans today?"
"Yeah I'm gonna apply for a job," I say, grabbing a blue blouse that Mom had bought for my for my birthday and a pair of dark gray slacks.
"Really? Where?" he says, his interest piqued as he leaned on my door frame as I gathered up my clothes.
"The library," I say, I hold up the clothing combination to him, "this works right?" I ask and he looks bewildered and holds up a thumb, "nevermind," I say.
"Are the hours flexible with school?" he asks.
"I don't know, but I'll be sure to ask," I say, heading into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and then the showerhead.
"Okay well, as long as it doesn't interfere with your school work and you know…being home for dinner and stuff," he says, crossing his arms in front of him.
I straightened up and met his eyes, the corners of my mouth arc up in a small smile, "yes Officer Swan," I salute him playfully and he rolls his eyes as I shut the door to the bathroom.
"The interview went well, really well actually. The librarian offered me the position," I tell Jacob over the phone.
"That's great! When do you start?" Jacob says cheerfully.
"Monday afternoon after school," I say as I tap my pen on my notepad. I had just finished an English paper on Wuthering Heights at my desk when he called.
"I'll have to stop by the library more often then," he says, "do I even have a library card?."
"Now you have a reason to stop by and see me," I say, starting to draw doodles on my note pad.
"Paul asked about you today," he says, and my stomach does a little back flip.
"Okay," I say, passing off my interest as indifference, although I'm not entirely sure why, "any new developments with that gang of Sam Uley's?" I say, trying to change the subject away from a tall muscular frame and spots of green in a pool of tawny brown eyes.
"Uh, sort of," he says, for some reason struggling.
"Tell me," I say right away. I had a bad feeling about this Sam Uley guy since the moment Jake told me about him a few weeks ago; following Jacob around, saying cryptic shit that made him uncomfortable, watching him from afar and having some of his lackey's follow him…seems like Sam Uley is a creep and I feel bad that Jake is caught in the middle of whatever weird gang initiation Sam was trying to get Jacob involved in.
"He was waiting outside my school," he says, hesitating, "he said he needed to talk with me and so I did."
There was a long pause and the anticipation was starting to wear on me as Jacob was clearly deciding how to tell me what Sam had to say. I decided to stay patient and let him tell me how he needed to instead of acting antsy.
"He…he told me some weird shit…about wolves and the Quileute tribes. He said…he," man he was really struggling and the ants on my skin were getting ravenous, "ugh, nevermind it sounds crazy. He's crazy, Bella."
"Jacob, it's okay. I'm sure it won't be the craziest thing I've ever heard," I say, trying to coax it out of him gently.
"No it seriously might be the most insane thing you've ever heard," he says, his tone turning more serious.
"I seriously doubt it, Jake," I say as I remember Edward telling me about being a vampire, about his family of "vegetarian," vampires, and how there was an archaic vampiric system of government he called the Volturi, that seemed more like a monarchy than anything. Especially with how they were depicted in the off kiltering life size painting the Cullen's had in their home. I suppose you can love something as much as you fear it.
Jacob huffs loudly, "he said I was going to change into a wolf, Bella."
Okay yeah, that's pretty weird. "A wolf," I say, my tone rather incredulous.
"Yeah," he takes another breath, this time a little more steady, "he said that I'd 'phase' soon, whatever that means."
Well this was a weird turn in our conversation, "Jake you said it yourself that Sam Uley's crazy. Why are you believing anything he's saying?"
"Because my Dad is not denying it, Bella," he interjects and that throws me. Why the hell is Billy not storming over to Sam Uley and telling him to back off? God knows Charlie would be and I kind of thought that Billy and Charlie were cut from the same cloth.
"Jake," I say, trying to find a way to comfort him but coming up short, "tell me how I can help."
"I don't know, I'm just…" he says hesitating again, "...I'm freaked out."
Now I want to punch Sam Uley in the face. "I get it," I say, "do you want me to go find Sam and beat him up?"
Jacob laughs which makes me feel like the world makes sense again, "that would be quite the sight, seeing Bella the waif wailing on the wall of muscle that is Sam Uley."
"I may be skinny but scrappy," I say, "like an alley cat."
This awards me much more laughter and the day is somehow less gray and I'm grateful. I say goodbye to Jake and he says he'll try to come by the library on Monday to see me and get a library card. I can't help but think about what he told me about Sam, about him "phasing," into a wolf. So would that make Jake a werewolf? Under normal circumstances, I would just pass that off as something that couldn't exist, it wouldn't be possible, but less that nine months ago I learned that vampires existed which opened up Pandora's box of relative possibilities…so if vampires existed, than I suppose it wouldn't be too far fetched to believe that werewolves existed too.
Interesting fact about librarians: there is actually a degree in being a librarian. I had no idea until the librarian told me when I arrived at my shift on Monday fifteen minutes early. In my mind, I've always seen the quintessential librarian as an older more cranky and strict woman that took filing and silence very seriously, with thick round glasses perched on the lower half of her sharply pointed nose and a a tight white bun on top of her head; I imagined her name would be Ethel or Gertrude. But no, my boss' name is Kelly, she has mahogany hair that she wears loose and curled held back by a black headband most days, she has bright brown eyes that don't need glasses, and she's in her mid thirties. Kelly bought me a coffee from the coffee cart that sits outside the library and I think I might really like her.
She shows me around the library, where the break room is (a small room in the back that looks like a lounge with soft chairs and a couch with shelves and shelves of more books, a tiny kitchenette and a bathroom, also it smells like cookies), and the front desk where I learn how to use the computer system and make library cards. For today, she has me working on putting the books back and making library cards.
I'm making a library card for a twelve year old girl named Sara when I notice a familiar voice coming through the front door. Jacob walks in smiling and chatting with Paul and I feel my stomach do that familiar back flip it did the other day and I swallow, handing Sara her library card.
"Hey Bells," Jake says, striding up to the front desk, "how's the first day going?"
"Good, I think I got the hang of making cards now. I feel like all of Forks has a library card now," I say and Jake laughs, Paul is also smiling as my eyes flit to him, remembering how the green of his eyes lit up in the evening sun. I cleared my throat and looked back at Jake. "I took the liberty of making you one, Jake," and I handed him his newly minted library card and he smiled one of his big and warm Jacob Black smiles.
"Thanks Bells! I'll be in here all the time now!" he said grinning.
"Sounds great but I'll be working," I say, my eyebrow arching up at him slightly, "like I am now."
"Oh yeah, sorry, we'll just go and look around," he says, walking into the library towards the science fiction section and Paul walks after him. He's wearing a navy blue hoodie today and the same well fitted jeans and biker boots he had on when he came over for Thanksgiving. I wondered if he still had his flask in his back pocket.
I had a moment to sift through the bin of returned books and started putting them back on the cart to return them to the shelves. As I placed them on the cart, I came across one about Quileute Tribal legends. I opened it to the chapter index and saw a chapter that said, "Quileute Wolf Legends," and turned to it. It recalled the small tribal nation having magic in their blood, but had little need of its use until the "cold ones" came to their land, killed their people, forcing their tribe to begin to change into wolves allowing them to kill these "cold ones," to save themselves. A warrior chief, Taha'aki, phased into a wolf in one of these battles after his son was murdered by a "cold one," and his wife called The Third Wife, sacrificed herself so that the wolves could finish the last of the "cold ones," and save the tribe. I started to scribble out some notes as I went through the book, the pieces beginning to slot into place easily since I already knew about the vampires and surmised that the "cold ones," from the Quileute legend were vampires.
So it was possible.
Perhaps Sam Uley wasn't completely crazy. I still thought he was a creep but there was something else happening in Forks and now on La Push. According to the legend, the Quileute tribe began to change into werewolves because of the presence of the vampires. So it stands to reason that if people on the reservation are now changing into werewolves, then that could only mean one thing: vampires are still here.
"Can I check this out?" my eyes snap up to an all too familiar baritone voice. Paul was standing there holding a book, Wuthering Heights.
"Yeah, hey I'm reading this one right now," I say, taking the book as he hands it to me over the counter.
"I've read it before," he says, placing his library card on the counter and I don't know why I'm mildly shocked he has a library card.
"Really? What do you think of it?"
"I like that it's complicated…a lot of people get hung up on the love story but it's the revenge that interests me."
"Huh," I say, and I found myself appreciating that, especially since recently I wanted less to do with romance and more to do with darker things, tragedy's and murder mysteries with no potential for love and other bullshit that made me think of Edward. "You don't like the unconventional love between Heathcliff and Cathy?"
"Their love was bullshit," he says and that kind of set me back on my heels a bit, "it wasn't unconventional, it's steeped in hierarchy, societal norms, and money. Also if Cathy really loved Heathcliff why did she marry Edgar? It's ridiculous."
"That is quite the stance, Paul," I say, scanning the barcode on the book, "then why are you checking it out if you hate it so much?"
"I never said I hate it," he says, "I said the love story was bullshit. I don't buy it," he takes the book and his card back, "but the vengeance that I get."
Now I'm starting to wonder what happened to Paul Lahote and his clear aversion to romance. "Are there any love stories you do believe in?"
Paul smiles, putting his card back in his wallet, "yes," and then with an arch of his eyebrow he walks back over to the fiction section where Jacob is standing, reading a copy of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein.
…Their love was bullshit…Paul's statement ran through my head like a vinyl record skipping over the same few lines of music and I hate that I'm starting to see what he meant. I loved Heathcliff and Cathy at one point, but things have changed so much since I read that story and perhaps I had drawn similarities with those imaginary characters and Edward and myself. It was the stuff one does when they find they're in love, but mine was clearly unrequited, otherwise my Heathcliff adjacent would still be here…but he isn't and now I can't wait to get home and steal some of Charlie's whiskey.