Gunnar in the Carrels

Part 1

Part 2

The old Anneville Library, built with Carnegie funding in 1903, had started to drip during rainstorms in 1980 and the board made the controversial decision to sell and rebuild rather than repair. The new library was a long, low rectangle of concrete and glass that was hot in the summer, cold in the winter, and had been plagued with roof problems from the outset.

Gunnar felt exposed approaching the two story wall of windows that was the building's front. He could easily be seen by one of his parents' many constituents, party members, or social acquaintances and that is exactly what he was trying to avoid. He reasoned that the library was an unlikely place for anybody of voting age to be anymore. Nevertheless, he tugged the cap down on his forehead and walked faster.

He was almost at the glass automatic doors and was already debating whether or not to keep the aviators on inside - would that draw attention? - when he saw her. He knees nearly buckled and something deep in his bowels gave a liquid churn. Mimi Forrestor. Of all the people to run into - it was Mimi Friggin' Forrestor, his mother's best friend.

Mimi was also heading for the library doors, moving fast in yoga tights and striped TOMS. She must have been in her sixties but, like most of his mother's well groomed but earthy set, looked like she was holding at forty. Gunnar felt a familiar moment of shame and self-loathing as he reflected that all of his parents' salt and pepper friends were in better shape than he was at thirty two. Despite reprimands, fatherly chats, and outright interventions, Gunnar did not possess the same love of team sport and ambitious outdoor activity held by the rest of his family.

Which was why he was in this trouble in the first place.

Mimi's current speed was going to bring them to the entrance at the same time, dammit. There was no way for him to detour without seeming suspicious. With rising panic, he did the only thing he could think to do and increased his pace to a run, swinging his backpack up off his shoulder and holding it between Mimi and his face.

The glass doors automatically whooshed sideways, releasing a puff of book scented air that even in crisis Gunnar registered with something like love, and he sprinted between them, looking straight ahead and not stopping until he had blindly lost himself in the middle of the stacks.