Page 89 of A Stop in Time
She blinks a few times before turning to me. “All set?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
With a few clicks of her mouse, she’s exited out of her browser and presses her thumb and finger together. I can’t lie and say it’s not freaky as fuck how everything around us resumes without missing a beat.
Before we have a chance to slide out of our chairs and stand, the power goes out in the entire library and all the computers go dark. There’s the telltale sound of the generators kicking on with the backup lights throughout the building.
Mac glances around the library before rising from her seat. She releases a muttered sigh. “Time to call it a day.”
“Shhh!”
The abrupt hissing comes from the librarian, who’s fast approaching the section of computers.
Mac makes a face. “Simmer down, Karine. There’s, like, three of us here aside from you. Pretty sure life will go on if we use a regular voice for once.”
Disgust has the woman’s face mottled red as she glares at Mac. “If you’re not in accordance with library rules, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Mac pouts. “But I wasn’t done watching this awesome porn video.”
Karine’s eyes go wide, and both the kid at the other computer and I barely choke back a laugh at the librarian’s reaction.
The lady sputters and points to the exit. “Out! Now!”
Without a word, Mac rises from her seat and pushes in her chair with composed calmness. I follow suit, watching her curiously as she strides toward the exit that’s just past where Karine stands.
Pausing beside the librarian, Mac nudges the woman’s shoulder. “I bookmarked the best ones for you. Just look for the ones marked Karine’s snatch—”
“Out!” Karine’s voice is high-pitched, bordering on hysterical.
“Inside voice, Karine. Inside. Voice,” Mac calls out in a saccharine-sweet tone as she brushes past the woman.
Once we exit the library, a quiet descends over us, and I get the impression we’re both lost in our own thoughts. We stride along the sidewalk, and I notice the businesses along the same side of the street as the library are out of power. Across the street, though, everything seems to be in working order.
We near a little convenience store whose door is propped open. An employee uses a broom to sweep the threshold.
“Sorry. We’re not hirin’ right now, sweetheart,” someone says from inside.
“Okay, thanks.” The resignation in the girl’s voice clutches at my gut. It’s palpable, like I can feel her desperation and lack of hope.
When she steps out onto the sidewalk, Mac slows. Her features sharpen with recognition and I wonder how she knows the girl.
The girl is probably sixteen but looks like she could use more than a few extra meals. Her clothing is worn and faded and accentuates her gaunt frame.
Blonde hair is swept up on her head in a bun, but it’s the dark circles of worry beneath her brown eyes that bother me the most.
I still remember how it felt to be so hungry I thought my stomach would cave in on itself.
The girl swings a distracted glance our way before using the marker in her hand to cross something off on the paper she holds. It’s clear to see she’s already marked out the other options. Shoulders slumping in defeat, her hands drop limply at her sides.
Before she can walk off in the opposite direction, Mac calls out to her.
“Hey. You looking for work?”
The girl’s head snaps around. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mac winces at the formality but continues. “What’s your name?”
“Annalee. Annalee Whitaker.”