Work at the Library

I couldn’t stop thinking about my conversation with Hideki after he dropped me off in the gravel-filled parking lot of North Wales Public Library. I had wondered if there was truly a reason for me to keep living after I had lost my job. I guess it had become my identity, lousy job at is was. I carefully lined up books in the shelf.
Up until now, I didn’t seem like I fit in anywhere in mainstream society. I’ve always been able to sense ghosts, ever since I was five years old. My parents always dismissed it as the nattering of a child with a vivid imagination. But in my teens, the sighting and experiences had gotten worse. Instead of merely being amused by these occurrences, as I had as a little girl, I began to become frightened. And there was not really anybody I could turn to for help. My mother, who was raising us alone at that point, took me to see doctor after doctor, once even trying to commit me to a psychiatric hospital. But the doctors were never able to find anything wrong.
And then there came the problem of realizing that I was transgender. I felt that I had been born the wrong sex, and over time, it just gnawed at me, leaving me to sink deeper and deeper into depression. I stood up to walk to the front counter and gather more books to put away. I nodded at the woman up front with shoulder-length blonde hair. She went back to checking her screen.
I’ve always been an outcast, never really been able to fit in anywhere. If it wasn’t my quiet withdrawn manner, it was my curly hair that no amount of gel could ever tame. When I met Hideki, I thought I had met a kindred spirit. I smiled briefly at the memory.
I was sitting in one of the armchairs in the café of Borders Books, across the street from Montgomery Mall. I was reading a book called “Ghosts among us” by James Van Praagh, when I felt somebody tapping my book. I looked up from the book to see a gorgeous Japanese man with startling blue eyes and blonde hair. He had grinned and asked me if I had believed in ghosts. I was a little hesitant in revealing a secret I had guarded for so many years, but I felt that I could talk easily with this man. That he would not judge me.
I searched carefully amongst the titles in my arms for the right books to go into the right section. The library system is painstaking in it’s organization.
It turns out that Hideki has believed in ghosts for a long time. He is actually a ghost hunter in his free time. That got my interest. I watch “Ghost Hunters” on Syfy, but I’ve never had the nerve to really do it. Especially with my past experiences. I found myself starting to let my guard down around him as we both sipped a White Chocolate Mocha in the café. Hideki was easy to talk to, and very friendly and non-judgmental.
I sighed. But it feels like we’ve been growing apart, little by little. I really should have told him about the nightmares, but I didn’t want to analyze them with him. I felt my phone, in a holster clipped to my belt, buzz with an incoming text message. I put down the remaining books to read it.
‘Shao len is asking that we meet at the European Bistro near the train tracks at five-thirty PM today. She says that there is somebody that you need to meet. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not going to argue with her. Can you make it?’

That’s strange. It would make more sense for us to meet privately in Hideki’s apartment, rather than in public, where people might start getting suspicious. What’s this about? Regardless, I sent a return text, saying that I would be able to make it. Now to get through the rest of this day.