{"id":2117,"date":"2020-12-12T19:23:33","date_gmt":"2020-12-13T02:23:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2117"},"modified":"2020-12-12T19:23:33","modified_gmt":"2020-12-13T02:23:33","slug":"extensions","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2020\/12\/12\/extensions\/","title":{"rendered":"Extensions"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: \u00a0Write a story involving a conversation that\u2019s packed with subtext; the characters aren\u2019t quite saying what they mean….<\/em><\/em>
available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Librarian\u201d wore a dour expression on her lined face. Her grey eyes glared above the half-moon glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. A blush of pink rose with her ire in her porcelain cheeks. \u201cWhat do you mean, another extension?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Samuel shifted nervously from one foot to the other, careful to look anywhere<\/em> but into those piercing eyes. His short stature, thin frame, and smooth, dun skin belied his true age, but fixing his deep brown eyes to her gaze still made him feel like a child. \u201cThere\u2019s\u2026 extenuating circumstances,\u201d he offered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStill and again, eh?\u201d The Librarian dropped a heavy tome with a loud a thud. \u201cThis makes what, fifteen?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEr,\u201d Samuel knew that she was painfully aware of just how many it was. \u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you know why I\u2019m called The Librarian?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEr, no ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She removed her glasses, letting them hang around her neck on the thin, gold chain that linked the ear pieces. \u201cBecause I run this place like a library. We loan. We do not sell or give away permanently.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI trust this will be the last I hear of this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Samuel caught her gaze, and as much as he wanted to answer in the affirmative, feared the outcome if he did and was wrong. \u201cI\u2026 hope so?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou hope<\/em> so!?\u201d The Librarian almost never raised her voice. When she did, as now, the object of her wrath could feel the trembling to their bones. \u201cThat copy has been out so long it\u2019s been superseded, not once or twice, but at least a dozen times! It\u2019s time to retire it, now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With an unexpected bravado Samuel asked, \u201cWhy? If it\u2019s still good enough for\u2026,\u201d he regretted his words as soon as they were out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not \u2018still good enough.\u2019 \u201c The mocking tone of her reply caught him off-guard. \u201cThat copy has been in circulation for so long it\u2019s falling apart. Losing pages here and there, and who knows how many penciled-in edits, revisions and probably flat-out vandalism by now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo buts.\u201d She waved over another of the assistants. \u201cAngela, have you met Samuel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d Angela stood half a head taller than Samuel, her afro extending that to a full head. Samuel didn\u2019t need to look at her to see her eyes so dark the pupils didn\u2019t show, her skin a warm, dark red-brown, her full lips that he often fantasized saying his name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAngela, I\u2019d like you to take Samuel down to receiving.\u201d The Librarian returned her glasses to her nose and began jotting notes on her calendar. \u201cI know you could use some help down there, and it would be good for him to get a better understanding of how we do things here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course, ma\u2019am.\u201d Angela flashed a wide, toothy smile at her. \u201cI\u2019ll get him straightened out in no time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhile I appreciate your enthusiasm,\u201d The Librarian said, \u201cdon\u2019t make any promises you\u2019ll regret.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Angela\u2019s smile was replaced with a more serious, hard expression. \u201cRight you are, ma\u2019am. I\u2019ll do my best to get him on board.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As Samuel followed Angela to the elevator he tried to come up with some way to break the ice. Now that they\u2019d be working together it was his best shot. They entered the elevator and Angela pushed a button for their destination.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the doors closed Samuel hesitated for a moment, and was about to speak when Angela started instead. \u201cAre you seriously that daft?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2026 uh,\u201d he stammered. \u201cWha-what do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFifteen extensions!?\u201d Angela laughed. \u201cYou\u2019re the talk of the place. Sure, maybe<\/em> one extension, on very rare occasions two, but fifteen! You are, without a doubt, either the bravest or the dumbest person here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere are extenuating circumstances!\u201d His voice came out rather more petulant than he would have liked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLook, kid,\u201d Angela said. \u201cYou have to learn how to pick your battles. And this is one you won\u2019t win.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not a kid.\u201d Samuel felt his fantasies about Angela disappear in a cloud of self-doubt. \u201cI\u2019m probably older than you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe, but you\u2019re acting like a child.\u201d She placed a hand on his shoulder. \u201cJust because you like a borrower, or even believe that they have a very good<\/em> reason to extend a loan, it\u2019s not enough. It just isn\u2019t done.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf I could just get her to hear me out, I\u2019m sure she\u2019d change her mind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho, The Librarian?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course, who else would I mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe doesn\u2019t change her mind.\u201d Angela shook her head, her afro bouncing side to side. \u201cNever happens.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The elevator stopped and they stepped into the receiving department; cold grey concrete slab floors and walls enclosing a utilitarian workspace. \u201cDo you,\u201d Samuel asked, \u201cknow her name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Librarian? Sure.\u201d Angela guided him to her office.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI said I know her name, I didn\u2019t say I\u2019d tell you.\u201d Angela stopped him and stared in eyes. \u201cWe. Do. Not. Speak. Her. Name.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Samuel gulped. \u201cI knew she was private, but\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEnough of that.\u201d Angela led him into her office. On a bench to one side were stacks of folders, ranging from massive tomes-worth bundles of documents to those with no more than one or two sheets in them. She pulled one out of the middle of one of the stacks with a deft flick of her wrist. Samuel expected the stack to topple but it dropped into the missing space neatly with a thud. She handed it to Samuel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He recognized the cover, even though he could see the differences right off. \u201cThis is the newest version, I guess?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is.\u201d She opened the cover and leafed through a few pages. \u201cNotice how clean, and notice that the language is more up-to-date.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, but as a remote agent I have only one group to keep happy,\u201d he said. \u201cIf they don\u2019t want the changes, why should I push them on it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know if you\u2019re aware,\u201d Angela said, \u201cbut I don\u2019t spend all my time in receiving. I\u2019m a field customer service agent as well. You\u2019d know that if you came to the meetings. You\u2019d also know that we are no longer called \u2018remote agents.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd how do your customers feel about change?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSome of them are all for it,\u201d she said. \u201cThere are those who don\u2019t like change, and don\u2019t want it. I don\u2019t give them a choice.\u201d Angela walked to the far end of the office where a row of ten folders stood on a shelf. \u201cThese are their next ten. Or maybe nine,\u201d she said, pulling one out part way. \u201cThis one is\u2026 problematic. They may reject it outright.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo you\u2019ve already read them and vetted them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs soon as they come in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Samuel raised the folder he held. \u201cAnd if this one is problematic?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s another thirty or so copies in storage.\u201d Angela stopped herself. \u201cI meant to say versions<\/em>, not copies. There are no exact copies of anything here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhich makes it that much more important that my customers<\/em> get the version they want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not about who wants what.\u201d Angela crossed back to the bench and picked up one of the folders with only one document in it from the stack. The document inside had only a few lines on it. \u201cDo you think anyone<\/em> wants this?\u201d She petted the cover and held it close to her heart. \u201cPoor little thing. No, no one wants<\/em> this, but it still needs to go out all the same.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat happens to the ones that don\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAfter a certain amount of time they find their way to excess shipping.\u201d She leaned against her desk. \u201cThey go out to the lottery draw, and are passed out randomly. I\u2019m afraid that\u2019s the fate for this one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A panic hit Samuel. If those newer versions ended up in the lottery, anyone<\/em> might get them. \u201cUh, I need to find the other versions of this, quick!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Angela laughed. \u201cThe Librarian isn\u2019t very good at explaining the why<\/em>, just telling us the what. I knew you\u2019d come around once you knew the whole story. That\u2019s why the other versions are in the box by my desk.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Samuel let out an audible sigh. \u201cThank you, Angela. But then, what happens when they\u2019re returned? At the end of the loan?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat depends on their contents when they get here.\u201d Angela shrugged. \u201cSome are retired, placed in the private stacks upstairs. A few, if they\u2019re really foul, are shredded and burned; but most are sent to recycling and returned to circulation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Samuel thought about that for a moment before speaking. \u201cWell, she did<\/em> say retired, not chucked in the furnace. I guess maybe it is<\/em> time to get the old version back.\u201d He added the newest version to the box and lifted it. \u201cSo, who is your customer group?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRoman Catholics.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHuh.\u201d He looked at the row of folders on the shelf. \u201cSo that\u2019s the next ten, or maybe only nine, popes, then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYep.\u201d She nodded at the box he held. \u201cAnd now it looks like the next thirty or so Dalai Lamas are in good hands as well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSay, Angela, would you like to\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She cut him off. \u201cThe Librarian does not<\/em> allow any fraternization of Soul Repository employees. Not. At. All.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight.\u201d He cleared his throat. \u201cMaybe I\u2019ll see you around the break room sometime, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Angela smiled. \u201cMaybe. I\u2019ve got to get back to work now, and you need to go tell The Librarian you\u2019ve learned the error of your ways.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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