He found it in the third box he dug through.
Tsuris was in his parents’ attic, going through old boxes
for things to add to the community yard sale. So far, he’d discovered some old M.A.S.K.
action figures, a couple of puzzles and a Heffalump named Woozle. All great
memories, but none as good as what lay in the bottom of the third box.
After digging through old baby clothes, his blankie as a
kid, that weird Barbie phase he had at age 17 and his collection of Garbage Pail
Kid Cards, Tris found the book.
Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kablooie.
Oh shit! He thought to himself. I haven’t seen
this thing in forever! I remember when dad used to read this to me at bed time
a long time ago, back in the before time, when we all lived together. Gosh I
miss this shit!
He flipped through the pages. It was a kid’s book, more
colorful illustrations than words. And that’s just the way he liked it. Reading
is for chumps! He flipped to the back inside cover and made an interesting
discovery.
“Property of Rose County Public Library Department” the
sleeve glued to the book said. The card inside the sleeve had a date stamped on
it with one of those generic rubber stamps where you could spin a wheel to
change the numbers to whatever month, day and year you wanted. The date stamped
on this card read: Dec. 8, 1994.
Oh shit, Tris realized with surprise, this was an
overdue library book!
The current project at hand forgotten, Tsuris rushed out of
the attic, tripping over a rocking horse and accidentally falling into a very
cold wardrobe. After brushing snow off his shoulders, he took the ladder two
steps at a time. He hit the landing and made his way upstairs*, and outside to
his car. He turned it on and peeled out of the driveway like a bat out of hell,
eager to get to the library.
Fifteen minutes and two neighborhood pets trapped in his front
grill later, Tris made it to the Bill H. Cosby’s Reputation Memorial
Library. He raced up the steps like his name was Ferris Bueller and
sprinted to the checkout desk, where he spent the next two minutes trying to
catch his breath. Tsuris was pathetically out of shape.
“Here you go ma’am,” he said, passing the book to the
librarian.
“Excuse me,” the librarian said condescendingly, “I identify
as ‘papyrus’ and I need you to respect my pronouns.”
“Ok,” Tris said, slightly confused. “What are the appropriate
pronouns when addressing…yourself?”
“That would be ‘paper,” “sheet,” or the more informal, if
we’re friends, (which you and I are not!) ‘my scroll,’” sheet replied.
“Okay, paper. Sorry for the trouble. I would just like to
return this book. Though, to be honest, I haven’t borrowed a book from this
library in decades, I’m not sure I even have an account here anymore.”
“Let’s see. Name?”
“Tsuris Macher.”
“Alright Tsuris, looks like you checked out…Hamster Huey
and the Gooey Kablooie? What the hell is that? Anyway, you checked it out
Nov. 2, 1994. Yeah, it’s overdue alright. And yes, you do still have an account
with us. We’re like the IRS, we never forget. Your overdue fee is $73,284.29.
But, since I’m in a good mood, I’m willing to wave the 29 cents. So how will
you be paying today, sir?”
Tris began to panic. The sweat rolled down his panicky face in
a monsoon. His eyes flicked back and forth, like a poker player with a hundred
tells. Overdue fee? The hell is she talking about? That book is 25 years overdue;
they can’t seriously be keeping track of that shit? I don’t have anywhere close
to that kind of money. This has got to be a joke, he thought.
“Ummm, you’re kidding, right paper?”
“Sir, I am a librarian. We all have our sense of humor
surgically removed upon employment. Now, I ask again, how will you be paying?”
“Like this!” Tris yelled. He then turned and ran to the
door. He got about five feet from the exit before he felt the electrical shock
hit him between the shoulder blades. All of the muscles in his upper body
contracted and spasmed like he was having a seizure. He lost control of his
legs and fell into a miserable heap on the floor, unable to move any of his
body parts in the way he wanted to. The damn librarian had tazed him!
That’s when the security guards walked up to him in their
hobnailed boots and began to practice their Irish dancing skills on his face
and body until the pain turned into numbness and shock sent him blissfully into
unconsciousness.
Tsuris woke up sometime later in a dark room. Well, he
assumed the room was dark, he couldn’t tell, he had some kind of a mask or bag
over his head. All he could tell about his situation was that the room he was
in was frigid, whatever he was sitting on was very uncomfortable, his hands
were tied behind his back, his feet were tied together and he was barefoot,
which really sucked, because the floor was rough stone and it was like ice.
Out of nowhere, there was the sound of a heavy door creaking
open and a light switch was flicked on. The bag was pulled off his head and he
saw the librarian.
“Well Mr. Macher, welcome to your new home. Don’t try to
escape, nobody has ever been successful. Just cooperate with us and the rest of
your life can be as trouble-free as you make it.”
“Through the fog of pain, concussions, broken bones, blunt
force trauma and who knows what the hell else, sheets words clawed their way
into recognition.
“Rest of my life?” he squeaked.
“Yes. To pay off your debt to the Rose County libraries,
your parents have agreed to make you a permanent ward of the state, so you can
work off what you owe. And with what you owe, you’re going to be working your
ass off and staying in this cell until you die.”
“Please no, paper! There must be something else I can do!”
Tsuris pleaded.
“You’re doing it already,” the librarian said with a smile.
“And please, call me ‘my scroll.’ I have a feeling we’re going to become good
friends…”
^^^Laughter fades out as screen slowly goes to
black. After a good twenty seconds of silence on a dark screen, right when
people are wondering if it’s over or what the hell is going on, the words DON’T
BE A TSURIS MACHER appear.^^^
*Tsuris’ childhood home was built upside-down. Life
wasn’t easy, but man, the price on that house couldn’t be beat!
