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 [b]”Charles?”[/b]

I looked up to see Gracie eyeing me from across my desk. I was so caught up in first chapter of the book, I never saw her coming. Without checking the page number, I quickly closed the cover.

[b]”Poetry, huh?”[/b] she said, still eyeing the lettering on the cover, [b]”I never figured you for one to read that genre. Emily Dickenson too. Heavy stuff.”[/b] I just nodded along, not really sure what to say. I’ve found, especially with Gracie, sometimes it’s just best if I don’t say anything at all.

[b]”Does this have anything to do with a girl?”[/b] A look of shock crossed my face before I could check it. It reminded me of a question I’d once seen in a textbook ‘have you stopped beating your wife yet? Yes or No?’. No matter what I said there was no good answer. She pondered my silence while I flailed about trying to find something, anything that would make her change the topic. [b]”It’s that roommate of yours, isn’t it?”[/b] Too late. [b]”In my day the government never would have decided to put a single man and woman together but I suppose times have changed and good housing space is a premium.”[/b] I could feel the heat it my face rising as the words continued to flow out of my supervisor’s overly tinted lips.

[b]”It isn’t what you think.”[/b] A million curses ran through my head as I thought of the idiot who chose the book cover. It was their fault I was in this mess in the first place. No one would have looked twice if I’d been reading Anna Karenina.

[b]”It’s okay Charles.”[/b] Gracie said as she patted my right hand, [b]”We were all young and frisky once.”[/b]

I was beginning to see my boss in a whole new light and it wasn’t a nice one. [b]”I’m…uh… going to grab an early lunch.”[/b] I started to walk off, only turn around and grab the book, and head out the door again. By the time I got back the entire library staff would know about my ‘interest’ in poetry and my roommate. To top it all off my headache was still not going away.

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[b]”Ketchup, mustard, or relish.”[/b]

[b]”Mustard.”[/b] I replied to the street hotdog vendor as I pressed my watch against the reader. Despite me feeling that my world had turned upside down, it was a beautiful day outside. The sky was a the kind of blue that reminded me of my childhood days. Fluffy white clouds covered the face of the sun, giving the inhabitants below the occasional reprieve.

[b]”Charles Plygaurd, huh?”[/b] I looked up at the man with a bit of shock but he simply pointed to the watch reader as he grabbed a dog off the rotator. 

[b]”Yeah,”[/b] I said, trying to kill the panic rising up in my mind. [b]”Something… wrong?”[/b]

[b]”Nah,”[/b] he said placing the hotdog and mustard packet in a brown bag. [b]”Here’s the receipt.”[/b] I looked down at the foreign piece of paper, [b]”I know call me old fashion,”[/b] he continued, [b]”but I always give receipts. Use it- use it as a bookmark or something.”[/b] It was like the man was trying to tell me something. I was tempted to study the piece of paper he was handing me, knowing it contained more information than the price of my lunch. Was this one way the Rebels communicated, recipes and other small sheets of paper that flew under the radar? I was tempted to ask him but I knew better. Asking questions got people killed.

[b]”Hey, one more thing,”[/b] he said as he turned to help a different customer, [b]”You work at the library right? They still give out free bookmarks.”[/b]

[b]”Sometimes,”[/b] I said and turned back towards my building, a smile on my lips. It felt like I'd just been given my superpower and I didn't have to sneak around dark alleys or hide in dumpsters. Bookmarks were easy. Even Charles Plygaurd could do bookmarks.