Midnight Walk

Everyone at the Wellness Center goes to sleep around the same time. I don't know if it's a rule, or they all follow a similar circadian rhythm. All I know is it soon becomes quiet everywhere. It's peaceful. So peaceful that we're able to fall asleep with them. Syncing up to their patterns is a good sign. It means we're fitting in. Before we know it know it we'll be one of them. Not honorary members, bur real members. Well, maybe Olivia will. I'm not too sure about myself. I toss and turn. I can't seem to sleep. I don't know if it's the first night in a new place or what. All I know is from experience the more I try, the less likely I'll be able to doze. Plus, it wouldn't be fair to keep Olivia up. So I stumble out of bed and walk the lonely corridors of the Wellness Center. I find my self outside the entrance to the Library. It's locked. It shouldn't be a surprise to me, but it is. I could see if the cafeteria is open, or I could head back to the stable. Neither one feels like an option at this point. My legs are weak , so very weak. I slink down on the floor, and and lean my back against the wall. That's when it hits me. That's when I nod off . That's when I sleep.

Our Place

We didn't end up leaving the stable yesterday. We talked about flying away extensively and where we would go. We never went anywhere, but in the end I think that is what we needed. Sometimes talk is just as important as action. Of course action is needed to fulfill one's wishes. It isn't always to necessary to act though. At least not in the body. Ignite the desires of the mind, and the rest will follow. Ideas are wonderful. Ideas are beautiful. It lifts our spirits to talk greatly. Peter sporadically visited us throughout the day bringing us various items. First he brought a lamp, then furniture, after that toiletries. Before we knew it he brought everything but the sink, and would you believe he brought that too? At the end of the day, I could hardly recognize it as the loft we once knew. We had a carpet, a bed, electricity, and running water. Most importantly, we had a place to call our own. It was amazing. Peter apologized many times about the appearance of our room. Even after the final touches were put in place. He said he would still try his best to get us out of there. I hope he doesn't. I can't imagine anything better than this now.

In the Stable

Fight to be heard, fight for normalcy, fight for a place to rest your head. Fight for all the above and more. Nothing comes easy. A sparkling personality will only get you so far. The rest is gumption, or moxie , or whatever you want to call it. One could say I am taking the cynical approach. Perhaps I am, though there must be some truth to my statements. Also, mistake not what I say for whining. Whining is complaining without the foresight or ambition to change anything. It's not the best feeling being shuffled around and going through hoops,but we have a friend in Peter. Currently he is showing us a half loft in the falcon stables. It is neat in a way. You get to climb up a ladder to the loft, but I think that is where my excitement ends. There is no furniture, and I don't feel safe up there. What's to stop a falcon or anything else from coming in? "What do you think?" Peter asks. We are both speechless. "I know it's missing a few obvious touches. I'll see what I can do to deliver them." He continues. He pulls out his pocket watch. "I should be heading back. Anything you need right now?" "Are we ok?" I ask. "I don't see why not. It shouldn't get that cold, but I'll get a space heater just in case." "No, I mean from intruders." I say. "Absolutely, you have an army of birds. This is practically a sanctuary." He assures. "But, is there a possibility they could turn on us?" I ask. Peter's smile fades. "I know you both have had a long day, but that would never happen. The birds are loyal through and through." "I'm sorry." "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to them." I nervously laugh. "I'm serious." He insists. I walk over to the edge of the loft and shout sorry. "Better. Now, is there anything I can get you?" We both say no. "Then I must be off." We wave goodbye to Peter as he heads down the wooden ladder. I take a seat in the hay filled loft. Olivia plops down next to me. "Cheer up." She says to me. "You think he'll find us a place?" I ask. "Maybe. In the mean time we could always go for a ride on a falcon." "You think they'll let us do that?" "They won't have to know." I reluctantly nod. "Besides.." She continues , with a grin. "Worst case scenario, they kick us out and we can never come back."

Trouble at the Front Desk

There may be a hint of irony naming it the Wellness Center. When one has to travel through various levels of bureaucracy to do anything it doesn't exactly put on at ease. I know it's all so that they can better serve us. Most likely I'm finding any little thing to complain about. However, I would be content riding a falcon to work everyday. Peter doesn't see it that way. He views this as an injustice that must be corrected. I don't know why he's sticking his neck out for us. He barely knows us. He argues back and forth with a man at the front desk. The man appears agitated at having to arrange a room for us. We hear snippets of their conversation. The brunt of it revolves around us being outsiders. "Nothing like making you feel welcome." I say under my breath. "We had a deal. We must honor that!" Peter shouts. The man leans back in his seat. "What was the deal?" He asks, though one could tell from his tone that he doesn't care. "The deal was that if they were to find an artifact and bring it back to the Wellness Center then the library would be theirs, and they would be honorary members. You can look them up." The man begrudgingly types away on his computer. After a moment he nods. "Yep, they're here. Looks like the paperwork went through yesterday." Peter claps excitedly."Hold on. That doesn't mean anything." The man interrupts. "What are you saying?" Peter asks. "They're honorary members. They're not real members, so I don't have to treat them as such." The man says, dryly. Peter glares at him, and without saying a word he turns his back. Peter starts to walk out of the lobby. We catch up to him. "Is that it?" Olivia asks. Peter shakes his head. "No, I'll find you a place."

Cafeteria Food

I poke and prod at my lunch. In case you're wondering, it is edible. It is food. It's just...health food. Mostly grains and rice. Don't get me wrong I don't mind health food, but when you are set on a greasy burger nothing else will do. To paraphrase Metallica: "Give me burgers . Give me fries . Give me that which I desire." "You don't like it?" Peter asks. "It's not that it's just-" "You're disappointed?" He interrupts. I slowly nod with a mouth full of flavor less rice. "It does take some getting used to." He continues. "It's healthy, but it doesn't have to be bland." Olivia adds. Peter smiles. "It's a shame you didn't buy the cafeteria instead." "Can we buy it?" I ask. "I think we have our hands full as it is." Olivia informs me. "How are things at the library?" Peter asks. "Well, they are really lacking when it comes to literature." Olivia says . "I suppose we could stand to brush up on the classics." He replies. "Brush up? We don't have any classics." Olivia exclaims. "Alright, I hear you. Just don't rock the boat." "We'll rock the boat just enough." I say. Peter chuckles. "Besides the food, and lack of good books , how are you enjoying everything?" "I like it, but it's gonna be a hell of a commute." I reply. Peter stops eating. "I don't understand." "We like it here, but it's not like we live near by." Olivia explains. Peter has the blankest expression. "What's not to understand?" I ask. "Didn't someone give you two lodging?" "No." Peter pushes his tray away. He takes a deep breath. "Let's clear this up."

The Most Patient Man

Peter must have the most boring job in the universe. Half the time he stares out into the infinite white abyss. Occasionally he'll have an almanac or a big book of names by his side. He usually chooses not to read. He simply folds his hands and stares out into the puffy sky. I know he is anticipating new arrivals, but hardly anyone ever shows up. There is nothing on the horizon. It is beyond me how he can be so patient. I don't get it. I do know one thing though. As patient as he is, he is bound to get lonely. That's why we're paying him a visit. We tip toe, trying our best to creep up on him. Literally seconds before I'm about to shout "boo!" and scare him senseless, he turns around."where you expecting us?" I ask. Peter turns his eyes forward. "I should have. It would be in your character to stop by." He replies. I take a seat on the side of the desk. Peter shoos me off. "Is there anything I can help you with?" He asks. "We wanted to keep you company." Olivia says. "Lucky me." He says, sarcastically. I pat him on the back. "That's right. Anyone would kill for our company, but you get to hang with us for free." "Shouldn't you two be at the library?" "We own it. It doesn't mean we have to be there all the time." Olivia responds. Peter rolls his eyes. "You may join me if you wish, but please be silent." "You won't hear a peep from us." Olivia assures. The three of us stare out into the blank canvas for what feels like eons. "How long has it been?" I ask. Peter pulls out a pocket watch. "Thirty seconds." "You do this all day?" I gasp. "That I do." "What about the Falcons? Don't you tend to them?" Olivia wonders. "They are self sufficient, so I don't need to journey to the stables often." "This is what you'll be doing all day then?" Olivia asks. Peter nods. Olivia and I start to walk away. Perhaps pestering a quiet, old man was not in our cards . Peter glances at his pocket watch again. "Normally I wait another half hour for lunch, but we can go to the cafeteria."

Book Order

The librarian sitting behind the front desk is a meek woman. She wears a faded blue dress. Her light brown hair is parted down the middle, and on her face is a pair of crooked glasses. "May I help you?" She asks as we approach. We don't say a word. We just place the document in front of her. She goes over it briefly. "What does this mean?" She asks. "It means we own the library." Olivia says. The librarian turns white. "But what does this mean for me?" "We're not getting rid of anyone. In fact we probably could use you." I assure her. "There will be some changes though." Olivia adds. The librarian nods, nervously. "Of course... such as?" "First of all, you only have three sections." Olivia informs. "Yes, that's all we need." She says. "No, you at least need subsections. For example what if someone wanted to check out Tom Sawyer? Where would that be?" Olivia asks. "Is that literature?" She asks. Olivia squints. "Are you kidding me? Of course it's literature." Olivia replies. The librarian shakes her head. "We don't carry literature." "Why not?" I ask. "Because we like to keep everyone grounded in reality." "That is the stupidest thing I ever heard. You're a library." Olivia exclaims. The librarian slides a notepad to Olivia. "We can order it, just write it down." Olivia writes down Tom Sawyer on the notepad. "While we're at it, do you have any of the Calvin and Hobbes books?" She asks. "Who?" Olivia buries her face in her hands. "It's the adventures of a six year old boy with an unusually large vocabulary and his best friend who is a tiger." I explain. The librarian nervously laughs. "Is that also literature?" "No, it's a comic strip." Olivia jumps in. "Oh dear, we definitely don't have something like that." "I'm gonna write a list of books you should have. Is there any way you could rush deliver Calvin and Hobbes because we were specifically looking for that?" Olivia asks. The librarian sighs. "Ok." She types away on her computer. "I'm seeing a list of Calvin and Hobbes books. Any in particular I should get?" "There's Treasure Everywhere is good... I don't know, maybe start with the anthology?" I say. The librarian continues typing. "I just point in the order. So you know, even with rush delivery it may still take a week." Olivia slides the the notepad with books suggestions to her. "We're patient. " We start to walk away. "You want to look around more?" Olivia asks me. "No, not right now." "Me either. What do you want to do?" I shrug. "Wanna bother Peter for a while?"