counsellor. Neve was scared at first, but it turned out OK. She got to hold a big fluffy toy frog, which was nice, and they mostly just talked about things which made Neve mad—which somehow made her feel better about them.
In the end, the counsellor had told her to count to ten, and to drink some water, and to walk away. Neve didn’t know how to do all those things together without making a big mess and getting in even more trouble though, so she didn’t really bother. But she remembered that the counsellor had also told her how important it was to talk about it. She said you could talk to toys, or people you trust, or even write it down.
“That’s probably what they were doing,” Neve told Clarice, “just trying to write down all the things that scared them back then. That’s really good to do, because once you write it down, it’s not as scary anymore.”
Neve thought about the diary she’d started once, back when everything first started to change. She’d written big stories about her dad and her mom and their old house, but it was really hard work, and she’d ultimately given up.
“Oh,” said Neve, flipping through the thin pages with Clarice nestled snuggly in her lap, “this is one of my favourites.” She turned the book upward to show Clarice the full-page picture of the stone man and his lion skin and his big muscles. Then she blushed, shook her head at Clarice, and pulled the book back up with a huff.
“This guy was the son of Zeus—the king of the gods. But Zeus’s wife Hera didn’t like him, and they always fought. He was tormented by Hera, who only showed up when she wanted to make things hard for him and drive him crazy.
“But he never gave up. Sometimes he used his strength, and sometimes he used his brains, but he never gave up. I think that’s pretty important.
“I wonder who wrote this story,” said Neve, searching through the covers and end-pages for some kind of ‘about the author’ section.
“Neve!” The yell sent a chill up her spine.
The jig was up!
“Neve, get back here!” her dad called again. “You know better than to wander off. It’s time to go. C’mon!”
Sinking down against the rigid bookshelf, Neve frowned. ‘Time to go home,’ she thought. That meant a lot of things: It meant that bedtime was near for one thing, and dreams were always sort of a gamble. It also meant a whole day of school; wandering the halls alone and hoping someone would talk to her. She hated that!
Hopefully though, her dad would need to do more work tomorrow, because that would mean she’d get to come back here. She looked forward to being at the library. At any moment, some story could take her to a world she’d never heard of but always needed.
It amazed her how familiar they always felt.
“Neve! Let’s go. Now!”
“Well Clarice, it’s time to go,” she said, replacing the book on the shelf and gently taking her doll up by the hand. “I still think it’s unfair sometimes that people are the only ones who have to wonder why. It hurts to have so many questions. But I’ve gotta admit—I’m glad we have imaginations. At least that way, when we don’t know all the real answers, we can think up something that makes sense, right Clarice?”
“That’s right,” said Clarice, her voice as smooth and comforting as a mother’s touch. “I think we’re going to be just fine, Neve.”
-Brad OH Inc.
PS: This story is available for both digital and physical purchase in the anthology ‘Between the Shelves: A Tribute to Libraries by Edmonton Writers’. All proceeds go to the Edmonton Public Library System.
-Brad OH Inc.
www.BradOHInc.com
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