Just Browsing [Ginelle]

[Evan Brackett]

It was a Saturday morning, and even though there were probably things more teenage-like he could do with the weekend, Evan was spending his time doing homework. For the most part it was already done, with the exception of the book he had been assigned for English. Normally, he was against doing any English work, and would put it off until the last minute, because it often involved a bland story that he would never pick up accompanied by some ridiculously annoying essay assignment to interpret this or explain that. But to Evan’s pleasant surprise this author’s writing was actually entertaining. As a bonus, it came with a simple set of study guide questions. No essay to write this weekend. Unfortunately, it was also short, and he finished the entire assignment, questions and all, in only a couple hours. It wasn’t even lunch time yet. Figures it to would be the one time I actually enjoyed the homework, he complained in his mind, referring to that fact that this was probably the shortest assignment of the year.

With a sigh, he got up from the desk he was working at and stretched his stiff muscles. It was nice to have his homework done, but he really wanted to read more about the protagonist of the book. So like the little nerd he was, he grabbed his book bag, replaced his school books with some personal reading material he had finished earlier that week, stuffed his sketchbook into it, and slung the bag over his shoulder. Stopping by his bedroom door to pull on his sneakers, he then left for the library.

Upon arrival, Van went directly to the book drop and transferred the due books out of his bag and into the slot. He glanced at the librarian and smiled, but as usual, the guy had his nose in a book and didn’t pay him any mind. So Van found an empty table, abandoned his book bag on it, and wandered over to the fiction section. He quickly found the particular author he wanted, and picked out the first book in the alphabetized line of stories. It looked like a quick read so he started to browse the rest of the fiction collection. The boy wasn’t entirely sure what else he might want to read, maybe something by an author he hadn’t heard of before, so he just scanned the shelves. Every once in a while he’d pick up a particular title that he recognized, scan the synopsis, and put it back in its proper place before continuing to browse.

[Ginelle Leveaux]

Normally, you don’t expect a wide range of clientele at a school library. There were always people there you didn’t except walking in though, the goth, the skater, the ever-popular jock. Some of them only were there for the computers, others were actually there to get research materials. Then, of course, there were students there for the books, the sole purpose in life to read them all. Nonetheless, there were some people you didn’t expect to be there. For example, the little girl in the gingham dress who was desperately trying to reach the top shelf on a bookshelf. There was a person you didn’t expect. The small girl jumped to no avail, and she stared up at the shelf as the book she wanted stared back down at her. The spine of it seemed to snicker at her attempts to get it. She held her stuffed lion, Aramis, in the crook of her arm as she looked up at the book. Oh, if only she were tall, like normal kids! But she wasn’t. She sighed and looked at Aramis, who looked back at her with a smile on his face. She frowned.

“Why are you smiling, Aramis? If we don’t get ‘Island of the Blue Dolphins’ D’Artagnan will be very upset! And if he is upset… Oh my.” A normal person would not be worried about the feelings of their pet turtle, but Ginelle was very in tune with her animals. She began to reach for the book again, straining as her fingers grazed it, and then grabbed hold, just barely. She grinned triumphantly, but her victory was short lived. It was a few seconds later that she realized she couldn’t pull the book out. Pouting, she kept holding on, trying to think of another way to get the book she wanted. She thought about dragging a chair over, but that sounded tiring, not to mention the librarian wouldn’t like her moving the furniture. Stuck there, Ginelle tried standing a little higher, but her toes would not stretch any further. She hadn’t considered the possibility of simply taking off one arm to hold it while it reached for a book. Given time, she’d figure it up, but at the moment her best idea was to try and jump and pull, which wasn’t working.

Close to tears (as a ten year old isn’t very good at handling stress, however small), she did the only logical thing: called for bigger reinforcements.

“Can someone help me?” She called out in a shaky inside voice, an admirable feat for a ten year old. She was worried that no one would hear her. The next course of action, if someone didn’t come in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to scream it next time.

[/size]

[Evan Brackett]

As a teenager, Van was more adept at hunting down books in the young adult and above sections of the library. So while he had noticed the young girl staring at the bookshelf when he passed by it, it didn’t much bother him. Sure, there weren’t a lot of little kids running about at Hammel, but it was a weekend. He figured that at least some of the many adults at the institute had children, and given that day care was usually a weekday thing, they had a right to bring their children to work if they absolutely had to. This was a school after all. Evan simply moved on the next set of shelves. Whatever it was she was up to was none of his business, and it didn’t occur to him at the time that she needed help getting a book.

When he ran across some Dean Koontz titles, Evan had to stop and look. He had never read anything by the author before, but one of his friends had recently recommended it on the basis that “he has a humorous, sarcastic writing style that is just the kind of thing that entertains me.” It seemed appropriate to at least thumb through the pages. After checking out the cover’s side-flap abstract and scanning the first few chapters of several books, he picked out one that sounded most interesting to him. He didn’t think it was necessarily his cup of tea, but you never know until you try.

Two books was plenty reading material for him for the moment, especially considering that he was a student and spent a lot more time doing school work and goofing off than reading. It was when he rounded the end of the shelf on the way to check out that he heard the soft cry for help from the girl he saw earlier. Of course he’d help her; he didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah, hold on,” he said as he briskly walked over the child and pulled out the book she was grasping. “Here you go,” he whispered with a warm smile, hoping it would somehow keep the girl from bursting into tears. The last thing Evan wanted was to see a little girl cry.

Now his curiosity was piqued. "So what's a pretty little girl like you doing here?" he asked. Then he pointed at her lion. "And who's your friend?"

[Ginelle Leveaux]

Still one to believe in fairytales, Ginelle wasn’t surprised when her knight in shining armor showed up after a few seconds, just as she was about to open her mouth and yell. Okay, so he wasn’t a knight, and he was in normal teenager clothes, but hey, she wouldn’t look a gift pony in the face. Or was it horse? How did it go again? As he got the book down for her, the unshed tears dried up and a grin broke across her face, so large it almost split her face in half. Her first instinct was to yell ‘thank you’ at the top of her lungs and skip away, but her managed to grab her attention just as she was about to open up her mouth.

Being called ‘pretty’ by an older boy made any little girl blush, if you don’t believe me, just say ‘you’re cute’ to a playground full of kids. At that moment the boy who saved her book suddenly was a knight anymore, he was a prince too. Ah, the minds of young children. So innocent. She giggled and clutched the book to her chest, her head tilting to one side as she looked up at him. “I’m just getting a book to read to my pet turtle. He’s very smart, for a turtle, anyway.” She nodded solemnly, making it sound as if her turtle had a degree from Oxford or the like. She then looked at Aramis, then at the boy, and presented her lion to him if he wished to hold it. She wasn’t sure why, but a lot of people liked to hold her lion and smile at it and introduce themselves. She wasn’t sure why, it was only a stuffed lion. It didn’t make a lot of sense to her. It was like adults introducing themselves to her imaginary friends. They knew they were only imaginary and not real, right? She realized she hadn’t introduced her lion yet and stumbled to do so.

“Him? This… is Aramis. He’s, he’s…” She paused to think. “He’s a lion.” She said, trying to stall for time. “And, and, he’s from Africa. But he has a French name. From a book my Daddy read me. It’s called ‘The Three Musketeers.’ Only there were four. But I named my turtles the other three names.” She said, a bright smile spreading across her face again. “And my name’s Ginelle! It’s French too. But it isn’t in ‘The Three Musketeers’.” She stated, just in case he thought so.

“What’s yours?” She asked immediately after, hoping she could at least know the name of her rescuer knight person.

[/size]

[Evan Brackett]

Evan was a little old for fairy tales, but even if he wasn’t, he’d hardly feel like a knight in shining armor. He was just doing what he would do for anyone in need, as he felt any decent person should. Not to mention that, yes, his clothes were a far cry from being shiny armor. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt with some inconsequential brand name on it, jeans, and a worn out pair of black converse. Nothing special. Knight or not, the warmth of the girl’s grin almost broke the teenager’s heart. It was nice to see that one simple act could make her so happy.

When the girl blushed he was afraid that he had frightened her by his sudden appearance, and worried that she would run off without another word. Fortunately, she giggled in the next moment washing all his concerns away. The girl’s reason for being there made the teenager grin. "That's nice of you," Evan commented. He guessed that she was about the same age as his younger brother, and she reminded the teenager of him. In general, he didn’t mind little kids. As long as they weren’t screaming or throwing tantrums, they were pretty interesting to talk to, and he enjoyed having conversations with them. Probably because they were usually much less serious than adults and still knew how to use their imaginations.

He hesitated when the lion was offered to him, not actually realizing that the idea was for him to take it. In the end, he decided to give it a few pats on the head. “Hello there, Aramis.” Evan took the paw of the stuffed animal and shook it. Yes, he was one of those weird people who talked to kid’s toys and imaginary friends. At least he listened to her short story before saying with a chuckle, “He’s a very nice lion, with a very sophisticated name.”

The boy nodded when she introduced herself. “Ginelle is too.” Sophisticated, that is. “My name’s Van. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

She hadn’t asked, but since she told him her reason for being there, he thought it was right that he tell her what he was doing in the library. Holding up the books he had picked up, he explained, “I’m getting some books too. I’m going to read them to myself, though. I don’t have any smart turtles in my dorm to talk to.” Evan had plenty of animals on his parent’s farm, but for the most part they were all raised outside, and he didn’t think it was right to try to keep any of them in a small dorm room. All his pets were left back home. Luckily, his parents didn’t live too far away (instate even), so he got to see them frequently enough.

[Ginelle Leveaux]

“Van.” The tiny girl repeated the name in a whisper, committing it to memory. Holding Aramis tightly to her chest now that he had been introduced, she wondered what to do now. She tilted her head to the left, then to the right, her neck feeling stiff. Her joints often didn’t work with her very well, and the crack produced from tilting her head to the far left proved that point well.

“You can borrow one of mine.” She offered, oblivious to the crack she produced as she smiled. “Porthos, he needs a break. He and Athos haven’t been getting along and D’Artagnan is getting very sad.” this time the young girl was totally serious. She honestly thought that she understood the personalities of her turtles to a T. They were, after all, her pets. She thought, like all children do, that pets and their owners have a certain bond that couldn’t be broken.

Cracking her neck again, Ginelle felt a little sore as she shuffled her book from one hand to another and sat it on the bookshelf with Aramis, raising a petite finger. “Can you please excuse me? My head hurts.” Without any other explanation, Ginelle leaned forward and her head, neck attached, abruptly rolled from her shoulders and fell into her outstretched hands. “Much better.” Ginelle said, taking her head and placing it in the crook of her arm. She blinked and smiled, looking to Van.

“My Daddy says to always say excuse me before I take off my head because sometimes I scare people.”

[Evan Brackett]

He laughed when the girl offered him her turtles to borrow. “That is kind of you, but I think I’ll be alright,” he politely refused with a grin. What he had said before was simply to amuse her, and he had no intention of actually reading to any pet. That would make him feel silly. And awkward. He blushed slightly at the thought of his roommate catching him in the act, as if it were like doing something far less kid appropriate. He had plenty of self-confidence issues as it was and he didn't want to have people thinking he was insane too.

The way Ginelle talked about her turtles pleased Van. He might not have been willing to read to them, but he did believe that animals had personalities, regardless of the mocking he received from his older brother whenever he admitted it. It seemed obvious, though. Just like people, no two animals were ever alike. There were good pets, bad pets, crazy pets, pets with fears...the list could go on.

The cracking, which had been ignored before, was painfully obvious when the Ginelle cracked her neck. Is she alright? Van wondered with a small wince. He watched with interest and a tilted head as she shuffled her things around, decreasing the angle when she excused herself. Automatically assuming that Ginelle was referring to a headache, he offered some more help. Pain, although of a different kind, was a symptom of his own power. It was something he made sure he was always had covered. “I have Tylenol in my bag if you…” His voice trailed off as he watched the girl miraculously remove her head. It was a well timed interruption—offering a child Tylenol is seldom a good idea.

“Oh…my…” Was he surprised? Yes. Shocked? Absolutely. Scared? You could bet your life on it.

It was astonishing how wide the teenager’s eyes could get. Sometimes I scare people. That had certainly been achieved. “I-I’ll bet,” he stuttered in response, following up with an indiscrete cough. “That’s an…interesting ability you have there.” When in doubt, turn to flattery? It was better than being lost for words, anyway, and Van didn’t want her to know she frightened him. He still thought she was an adorable little girl despite her somewhat gruesome ability.