The Mysterious Disappearance of the Reluctant Book Fairy Read Online Free Page B

be deemed “an outfit,” hair that looked as if mowing might be the better choice than a mere cutting, and eyebrows that snaked across her forehead in a manner that could only be referred to as threatening.
    Her voice boomed. “Here. You. Are!” she announced at a volume so stentorian that Annapurna felt it very likely that the police department next door to the library and housed within the confines of the town’s brick city hall might have been well informed of the woman’s arrival. The members of the Red-Hatted Ladies’ Book Club certainly were. More than one furious glance was shot from the discussion room in the direction of the check-out desk. “I. Want. A. Library. Card. Do. You. Hear. Me?”
    Well, obviously , was what Annapurna thought. So does everyone else, my dear woman. And like so many people who feel uneasy with correcting anyone’s behavior, she modeled what was a more appropriate volume, for as far as she knew, the poor woman had never entered a library in her life. Her teeth certainly suggested as much, although the absence of five or six molars couldn’t actually make any kind of accurate testimony as to one’s literacy or lack thereof. “Certainly,” Annapurna murmured. “If you have something to show me that you’re a resident?”
    â€œCourse. I. Do,” Mildred hollered. “I’m. Not. Stupid. Do. I. Look. Stupid. To. You?”
    Annapurna lowered her head in embarrassment. “No, no. Not at all. If you’ll just—”
    â€œYou’re. Going. To. Have. To. Speak. Up,” Mildred told her. “Or. I. Can. Read. Lips. But. Not. If. You. Don’t. Look. At. Me.”
    â€œYes, yes, of course,” Annapurna said quickly, as she raised her head. “Only … If there’s any way …?”
    â€œWhat?” And when Annapurna looked around the library with a gesture to indicate to Mildred that it was a library and not perhaps what she thought it might be, which seemed to be a hog calling contest, Mildred said, “Oh! Ha! Too. Loud. Am. I? Didn’t. Wear. My. Hearing. Aids. Batteries. Are. Dead. Sorry. Use. This.” And she rooted around in a bag printed with I’ve Been To Disneyland! prominently upon it until she found what she sought, which was a tattered notebook to which a ballpoint pen was attached. “Write. It. Out. Here,” she said. “Mildred. Banfry. By. The. Way. And. You. Are?”
    Annapurna wrote out her name and everything that followed. Did Mildred Banfry have an ID showing she was appropriately domiciled somewhere in Island County? She certainly did. She’d brought along her electricity bill—rather amazingly low so that Annapurna wondered if the woman owned a refrigerator or even turned on a single light—and she had evidence of her checking account as well. This latter wouldn’t do for evidence of her habitation, but it was of no import because the electricity bill did the trick. Annapurna began gathering what was needed to give Mildred her library card.
    It was at this most unfortunate moment that Monie Reardon Pillerton came wandering out of the supply room. As she still had the boat line tied to her wrist and her shoes had been removed for comfort’s sake and the sake of the cleanliness of the aforementioned quilt, she did present a rather startling sight since the reader must recall that she was also dressed somewhat unusually for Langley, Washington. Well, not all that unusually considering the Red-Hatted Ladies in one room and Mildred Banfry in the other, but anachronistic dressing not being what generally went on in the little town, Monie did garner Mildred’s attention. As did the boat’s line tied round her wrist.
    â€œWhat. The. Hell …?” was Mildred’s comment, for she was the first person to see Monie emerge. “What’s. Going. On. Around. Here?” She cast a speculative eye upon Annapurna.