If it wasn’t for my birth certificate saying Dallas on it, I’d almost assume my mother had an at-home birth, and it was a miracle I didn’t die. That didn’t happen though. As far as that piece of paper states, I was born in a huge hospital in the city of Dallas. I even have a picture of my mom holding me in the delivery room as further proof.
When I was little, I’d dream that my nonexistent father was there waiting for me to return. I wish that were the case. I highly doubt my mother has a clue who the lucky man was, to begin with. And it’s not like there have been any men popping up over the years claiming to be my father, so who knows.
If it wasn’t for the computer and school, there’d be an entire world out there that I didn’t know existed. My old high school teacher said it’s borderline neglect keeping kids cooped up in these insignificant, good-for-nothing towns. I’m taking her advice and working on college courses to get out of here someday. She showed me how to get financial aid, and it’s been a game changer for my future. I work my butt off to get good grades, so they never question whether I’m worth funding.
The change of scenery couldn’t come soon enough, either. I want to travel the world and discover everything I’ve missed. Someday I’ll leave this place and never return, just like my mother has.
I haven’t left here yet, but I promise myself I will no matter how long it takes me. I don’t have a car, but I save every extra penny I can. I’m hoping after I finish this degree that I’ll find a job online to help with the costs of everything else. I’ll literally move anywhere and give it a shot—just get me out of here. I figure if it comes down to it, I can get a college loan or something to get a cheap car and finally escape if I have to.
My stomach rumbles, and I’m drawn back to my lunch. I’m the only one in the library, so may as well pop open this little plastic container of mystery. Peeling the lid back, I take a sniff.
It doesn’t smell bad, so I grab my spoon and dip into the thick, whipped yogurt. Please be delicious, I silently chant on repeat. I really don’t want to have to chuck it in the trash and be left hungry for the next few hours.
The coolness mixed with the creamy texture hits my tongue, and bam! The delightful sweet flavor of cream and a hint of chocolate hit me like a warm gust of wind. It’s freaking amazing. Carissa is a genius. I can easily see why she’s in charge of the ordering. Pair this with Muddy Buddy’s peanut butter chocolate Chex snacks, and the two are basically life changing. I don’t know how she finds this stuff, but I hope she continues.
The bell above the door jingles, and my sweet vacation with bliss is cut short by Herald coming to exchange the latest book he’s borrowed. What I wouldn’t give to have that crazy life Mrs. Muncey had mentioned as she left. Herald’s not much entertainment for me around here.
“Hey, Herald.”
He’s in his usual khaki slacks, suspenders, and a short-sleeved flannel printed shirt. He tops the look off with a New York Yankees ball cap, and he’s always dressed the same, alternating the colors of his shirts. “Hi, Jude. Good day so far?” he asks, pushing his wire-rimmed specs up higher on his nose.
“I can’t complain much; the sun’s shining outside.”
“That it is,” he agrees, hurrying over to his favorite bookcase.
The strong wooden case is painted a crisp white and consists of five shelves full of mysteries. He’s read them all, probably a few times. He starts at the very top and reads book by book, stopping in every few days to exchange them for others he’s already read.
I wonder what he’d do if one day he came in, and a new book was in the next book's place? I wish Mrs. Turpin wasn’t such a tightwad. I’d be ordering new stuff to read left and right. This town would finally have a spark in their imagination if we got some new paperbacks around for them to devour.
“I scrolled through the order and wanted to let you know, they’re all in the right place, Jude.”
“Oh, thanks, Herald.” Smiling pleasantly, I mark the notebook with his returns and the others he’s checking out. Not that it really matters; he always returns them, nearly to the very hour each trip.
We had to adjust a few numbers because Herald freaked out awhile back saying they were in the wrong order. It doesn’t matter much to us if a few are off, but we changed them, and it made him happy. Since then, he comes in each week and tells me if they’re in the right order. I already know they are though since we never get anything new.
“Any plans today?” I question, changing up our usual exchange as I imagine being able to travel to some far-off place. I wonder if he’s ever lived anywhere else or has an exciting story to share.
“Plans?” He stops his glancing around, his confused gaze locked on me.
“Yeah, anything fun to do later?”
“Nope, just getting an apple and then heading back home. I can’t leave Felix home alone for long, you know.”
“Oh, right. Well enjoy your new book and tell Felix hello.”
“Thanks, Jude.” He takes his recent selection, leaving me in silence again.
I don’t want to end up like Herald, mid-forties and acts like he’s sixty. Felix is his cat, and the furry ball of fluff probably wouldn’t notice if he was gone twenty minutes or two hours. Maybe if he missed a meal, ‘cause Lord knows that cat is fat. In a sense, I guess I already am like him.I do the exact same thing, every day, just like all these people I greet coming in here.
Maybe I should change it up and attempt going to the bar again now that I’m older. I did once when I was fifteen and was kicked out. I doubt they’d care much now that I’m considered an adult, although I don’t want trouble and I’m sure that’s what I’d find there. That or a bunch of old men with drinking problems and that’s not my idea of a good time.
My cell phone beeps. It’s the one that mom’s soon-to-be- ex-husband, Sinner, left behind for me, signaling a new text message. His is the only number I have in here besides the Stop N Shop and the library. I had very few friends when I was in school, and I stopped talking to them once we graduated, so I don’t have to worry about hearing from any of them. The girls got married right away, and most of the guys are busy helping their families with their farms. Those two options pretty much sum up the after-graduation life around here…so exciting.
Sinner: I’m stopping through. Do you have food at your place?
It’s the same message he sends before each of his visits, and every time I do a silent happy squeal inside. The first time he came back, and Mom was gone, I didn’t have any food in the house. I didn’t have any money to buy it since my wonderful mother had stolen it. and he went a little ballistic when I told him exactly that. Since then, he’s made it his mission to make sure I’m fed whenever he’s around.
Me: I have yogurt and popcorn.