Dusty Volumes

Chapter 2: Dusty Volumes

The editor was shaking her head. "The boys cannot lay off the techno-babble."

Cho was pounding her desk. "They didn't mention the heroine, and villains do not have dogs named Skippy."

"Channel that passion, love," said the editor. "This tale needs the edge."

"What about our ideas from yesterday," asked Cho, "ideas that cost us dearly?"

"I know," said the editor. "We each had a blueberry muffin, three cafe au laits, and a chocolate eclair followed by a snifter of brandy to elicit our inner sophistication."

"What do we do?" wailed Cho.

"We save the undertaking as per usual," said the editor, grabbing a pen and gracing another blank sheet of paper.

When in the course of literary events it becomes necessary for one group to dissolve the artistic bonds which have connected them with another and to assume the responsibility to which the Dictates of Literature and the very Muse of Inspiration entitle them, a decent respect for the calling of their art compels them to pursue a superior narrative with a truthfulness seen to be self-evident and with a commitment to the unalienable rights of Plot, Character, and the pursuit of High Ideals.

"I know," said Cho. "We'll use that extraneous female character the boys introduced to compare and contrast innocence and depravity. That will make the entrance of the heroine more dramatic."

The door opened, and like the evening draft of cold air that comes down the mountain ravine bringing the scent of pine that oft disguises the accompanying chill, the swinging panel on hinges now brought the fresh breeze of a newcomer that did, at least temporarily, disguise all else.

“What a handsome dog,” said Luna, dropping to her knees.

“What’s his name?” she asked as it deigned to let her scritch his ears while he inhaled and analyzed her essence.

“Skippy.”

When Skippy looked at Miss Lovegood quizzically, the stranger said, “He wants to know why a lover of wildlife is spending her summer days cooped up in a library.”

“Finances,” she said.

“Much the same for both of you,” said the head librarian. “He’s a wandering scholar who’s been invited to stay here for the summer.”

Luna broke her gaze away from eyes she could not remember the color of as he nodded to her unspoken question: How is it that a wandering scholar dresses so well?

It was sometime later when Theo looked over the latest development. "The girls took this on a strange tangent, but it might add some interest, and a little work will get the story back on track."

The man who had introduced himself as Jonathan Wilks looked over the scattered boxes and around the rooms now lined with shelves and asked, "Was this always the library?"

Luna said she didn't know to which he replied that assigned rooms in old buildings changed and if these volumes had laid undiscovered next to the library, there might be some real finds in other parts. They looked unsuccessfully for old room assignments until lunch after which Jonathan asked if Luna would like to show Skippy and him the grounds. She took him on the path down to the lake where he remarked that interesting wildlife happened at boundaries: lake and shore or forest and meadow. He asked why no one seemed to go boating on the lake. Luna gazed out over the chill waters that disappeared into the distance and shivered. He draped his cloak over her and walked her back to the faculty room and tea.

"By now I've heard the story of the founders," he said one day, "or more accurately, I've heard the one paragraph summary that everyone seems to accept without question."

"I hear a note of skepticism," said Luna, pausing in her attempted restoration of some mouse-nibbled volumes.

"You surprise me," he said. "You're willing to hold contrary views about plants and animals, but you're saying you never questioned a story that offers a simple view of a complex era."

"I think more than the simple-mindedness of it bothers you," she said.

"Haven't you ever wondered what really happened? Wouldn't it be brilliant if we found the old library with the founders' diaries?"

That afternoon, Luna was unusually quiet as they walked to the forest. As they strolled along the edge, Jonathan suddenly stopped and said, "If you look up in the oak tree we just passed, you can see the eyes of a Lillimeth. But don't startle it. They're an unpredictable combination of shy and dangerous."

Luna looked. "I don't see anything. Are you making fun of me? You must be because Skippy is alert but he's not acting as if anything of any danger to him is around."

"No, he isn't, is he," said Jonathan.

"Okay, you got the story back on track enough that we can advance the plot," said Biff.

The hooded man walked down an ordinary looking street wishing for what he wanted as he had been advised. A building suddenly seemed inviting and he entered. He strolled through a hallway until he found a door painted purple. It opened and he walked into a Victorian parlor where a lady was seated at a table.

“Miss Parvati Patil, I believe,” he said.

“It is not necessary for you to know my name.”

The man took a seat. “I have only a simple question. Can you perform a simple procedure: the five-card spread with the miner arcana?”

“Certainly,” she said as she handed him a deck and let him shuffle the cards. She cut the cards and dealt,

“The first card represents the present. It is the knight of swords inverted: eagerness to begin an enterprise possibly involving deceit."

“The second card represents past influences still having an effect. It is the three of wands inverted: disappointment, a failed project."

“The third card represents the future. It is the inverted queen of cups: plans will proceed by the treachery of a female. She is fair, perhaps she is innocent of her role."

“The fourth card represents the reason behind the question. It sheds light on the second card, the influence of past events. It is the three of swords: a great loss that remains painful."

“The fifth card represents the potential within and for the inquirer. It is the inverted king of swords: a major enterprise, one that is rash or ruthless. It will be ruthless."

The meaning of the cards swirled before the fortune teller's eyes. Parvati stood and stepped back, away from the hooded figure. “Go.”

“How much do I owe you?” the man asked.

“I do not want your money. Go.”