Eugene Downtown Library Novels & Stories

"Yeah. Why?" "There's a library downtown hiring part-timers," he said, sliding a glass of water toward me. "Pay isn't amazing, but it's steady. Quiet. Better than dealing with creeps." Zoe snorted. "Chelsea at a library? She'd alphabetize the shelves by how many dollar signs each book could earn." I gave her my best 'you're not funny' glare, but a small laugh slipped out anyway. Alex shrugged. "It's there if you want it."

He started immediately and I was left alone to myself, but halfway through the ride, I got a call from Liam. “Hey, what's up? Were you able to tell her?” He asked me. "Not exactly,” I sighed. “Well, it seems we have another problem on our hands,” Liam sighed over the phone. I massaged my temples, feeling the migraine coming back. I couldn't deal with any bad news. “What’s wrong?” I queried. “Eugene is throwing a party at the Lancaster Grand Hall,” Liam informed me. I groaned, “Could this day not get any worse?!”

At the far end stood what looked like a massive radio tower, compressed down to fit in the underground space. "This is it," I breathed. "This is where Eugene worked. Where he built the prototype." "Then let's find what we came for," Fabian said, but his voice was tight. "This place feels wrong." He was right. The air down here wasn't just cold, it was oppressive. Like the weight of centuries pressing down on us. Like we were standing in a tomb that didn't want visitors. I went straight for the section labeled Augustus-Gustav Research Archives. The shelves here were organized, almost obsessively so. Eugene had been meticulous in his record-keeping.

He called after me. Oh! I hope you will. Sofia Eugene slid to where I was seated in the library, with the usual grin on his face. A senior nearby was ogling at him. “What are you doing here? Don't you know you are trying to get eyes on me?” I whispered. The librarian could send us out if I increased my volume. “Are you scared of that?” I thought his question was not right. “Apparently. Look, I don't mind you staying away from me.” I packed my things and rose to leave.

True to its reputation and size, the salary was also satisfactory. Eugene ran his hand over the suit once before closing the closet. Then he poured himself a cup of coffee and went to the window. It was a bright day. Thanks to his apartment's location in Little Italy on Canal Street, he had a clear view of Chinatown across the street. Beyond the window, as always, red lanterns, red signs, and the distinctive black hair of Chinese people swayed. Eugene's hair and eyes were also black, but quite different from those of the Chinese.