Keeper of Secrets

Three weeks had elapsed since Seth Ryan last visited the library. For nearly six months he'd been visiting at least twice a week, checking out horror and action novels, often sprawling on a seat and reading a few chapters before taking his picks home, so the fact that his tall, broad frame hadn't appeared inside the council building's walls for twenty-four days had not gone unnoticed by the library staff.

Only one of the librarians, Ellie, knew why he'd stayed away. She'd asked a question of him, the sort of question that anyone with an ounce of sensitivity and an IQ above room temperature should know not to ask of a returned serviceman. As soon as she'd finished speaking, he's stared at her, dumbstruck, his dark grey eyes fixed on hers, before suddenly picking up his books and shoving them into his backpack. He'd headed out of the glass doors without responding, and Ellie had immediately realised just how foolish and stupid her question had been.

That had been the last time he'd ventured here until today. Maybe the weather had driven him back. It had been a cold, miserable week of rain. The humidity made everything feel damp, and the unpredictable skies kept people indoors, away for their usual, outdoor leisure activities. Drying clothes became a nightmare in a country where garments were normally dried outside, on a line. Seth was a compulsive reader. He'd have long finished the last four books he checked out.

The gazes of the three library staff on duty turned to Seth as he stepped inside the doors and shrugged off his backpack and his motorcycle jacket in one, rough, manoeuvre. The helmet that had been hooked over his wrist was dotted with raindrops, and his jeans carried the heavy scent of rain. He wiped his boots on the mat, and made his way to the book return facility.

Seth seemed acutely aware of the attention that his presence was attracting, but he seemed equally determined to ignore it as he checked his books back in. He was especially careful to avoid catching Ellie's eye.

Ellie's shoulders slumped and her heart sunk. For a while she thought he might lodge a complaint against her. That would be the end of her, wouldn't it? She was thirty-six years old and single. Without a job, she was sunk. But he didn't. Or, rather, he hadn't, not yet. Maybe he still would. Maybe he was just biding his time, trying to figure out how best to word his complaint.

Another small part of her had hoped that her question hadn't offended him, and his absence was due to him being on holiday. That had been wishful thinking. Deep down, she'd known the truth. She'd asked the unaskable, and he'd responded with the age-old tactic of avoidance.

'Excuse me?'

Ellie turned around to see an international student trying to attract her attention. 'I'm sorry, how can I help?' she asked.

'I'd like to book a room please, for my study group. Next Tuesday, please.'

Ellie forced herself to smile and ask for the preferred time and room. The student knew what she wanted, and the booking was quickly made. All the same, by the time Ellie had finalised the task, Seth had finished checking his books back in and had disappeared amongst the shelves.

The library was busy, but Seth was a man of habit, so she knew he'd probably be in the general fiction area. He liked Dean Koontz and Stephen King and the early Lee Child books. Sometimes he read romance, and sometimes he read comedy, but mostly it was action or horror.

Should she go and find him? Apologise? Or would that just make it worse? He probably wanted to forget it had ever happened. He was here to borrow books, after all, not make small talk with librarians, regardless of how much the two of them may have flirted with each other in the past.

Seth wasn't a man who immediately stood out, but all the same, he'd quickly become the eye candy of the library staff. He'd need to drop a few kilos to have washboard abs, but there was something about the extra weight on an otherwise muscular frame that suited him. His face was proportionate if not handsome, and although his teeth curiously ground flat at the edges, they were straight and white.

From his library card information file the librarians knew he was thirty-nine years old, and he looked his age. Quiet but not shy, confident but not aggressive. A paramedic these days, having retired from service nearly four years ago. He rode a Harley, lived in a rented house two kilometres away, and had listed his mother as his emergency contact.

He wasn't a serial flirt, but at some time over the past few months, his banter with Ellie had shifted from casual to friendly to something more, and she'd responded in kind. She'd anticipated his visits, and her efforts with her hair and make-up had improved. Seth, too, had seemed to be ensuring he was well dressed for his visits. And both of them had kept their flirting as discreet as possible, always cautious not to let the other library staff catch them.

Did you kill anyone while you were serving?

Oh God, the stupidity of the question. If only she could explain. She understood that no matter what she said to justify it, it would still be an insensitive question, but maybe if she could tell him why she'd asked, he'd judge her less harshly.

She spent half an hour agonising over what to do. In the end, she did and said nothing. Seth found some books, checked them out, and left the library.

She wondered if and when she'd see him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seth hadn't really known what to expect from life as a civilian. He waited for PTSD to set in. It didn't. He waited to become an alcoholic. He didn't. He waited to find out his wife had spent years cheating on him. He didn't.

That wasn't to say the adjustment was easy, or that his marriage survived his return, because neither were true. He'd launched himself straight into study, and to bring in a few dollars he picked up weekend security work. He was frequently out of the house, but he was around a hell of a lot more than he'd been previously, and it turned out to be too much for either his or Nicole's liking.

They'd spent ten years together, seven of that married, but she'd never followed him to his postings, instead electing to remain on the Gold Coast. Maybe if she had gone with him, they'd both have realised that the love was long gone, but she hadn't. It was only in the months after his discharge that reality set in. It was over.

The divorce was amicable, and she'd quickly moved on, remarried and had recently had her first child. He was happy for her. Why wouldn't he be? During their union he'd suffered none of the indignities, stress or embarrassment that some of his colleagues had endured with their spouses. He and Nicole had similar spending and saving habits, could live compatibly, and had engaged in decent, satisfying sex. Not mind blowing, but it had certainly scratched the itch.

He'd assumed it would be easy enough to find another partner. He wasn't a fussy man, and judging by some of the dickheads his sisters had dated, women's standards could be abysmal, but he'd been sorely disappointed when it came to dating in his mid thirties. What he'd quickly learned was that a man his age who was studying full time wasn't to be considered a serious prospect. He was viewed with suspicion at best.

Things hadn't perked up when he'd graduated. A shift-worker who was ex-army? Not exactly top of women's hit lists. Oh well. Live and learn. Being single wasn't ideal, but he wasn't someone who needed a partner to be fulfilled, and he'd spent enough time away from his wife to be more than capable of meeting his own sexual needs.

Or, so he'd thought. Ellie had changed that. Ellie and the Cujo incident. He'd accidentally lost 'Cujo' - a book he'd read a decade ago, but had enjoyed re-reading nonetheless - and had been forced to confess his sins to the librarian. Ellie had been sympathetic, and while accepting payment for the lost book, had commented that it must be a novel that made no sense to today's youth, who had mobile phones they always took with them, and would therefore never ended up stranded in a broken down car on a deserted property, unable to move for fear of being attacked by a rabid dog.

He'd had a rough shift the night before, and her casual chatter and pretty smile had caught him off guard. She was cute, too, maybe five foot five or five six with a slim figure and long, glossy black hair. He'd been immediately hooked.

From then on he'd found it impossible to stay away from her. He found excuses to ask her questions and request assistance. The library was set up to allow visitors to check out and return books, make reservations and run searches independent of help, but God help him, she was so lovely he'd managed to rummage up countless excuses to seek her assistance.

She was always exceptionally helpful, which he'd liked to have put down to immediate mutual attraction, but the reality was that it was probably just her natural personality. Everyone liked her, and why wouldn't they? Nonetheless, friendly, casual banter, had become more and more flirtatious as the weeks wore on. He began to anticipate his trips to the library for more than one reason, even though he was flummoxed as to how he might ask her out without coming across as a complete goose. For all he knew, she had a partner at home and was just a flirtatious girl.

He tried to scope her out. Just over a month ago he'd heard a primary school student interviewing her for his school project. From that he'd learned her parents were Vietnamese Catholics who'd fled to Australia on an illegal boat in the late seventies. He was keen to learn more, but Ellie had noticed he was listening in and had glanced up and smiled at him and Seth, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, had quickly moved away.

At any rate, their flirt-fest had seemed to be inching towards a date at slow but steady speed when she'd asked her doozy of a question. If he hadn't been so shocked, he would have asked her if she really didn't know that wasn't a question to ask of anyone, let alone in a crowded library at eleven am on a Tuesday morning.

What had prompted her to ask? Had her parent's experiences made her a pacifist? Was she checking to see if he was a meat-headed racist who had joined so he could knock off as many sand niggers as possible? Or had it been a complete brain fart where the question had slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself?

He had no idea. In the end, he'd realised that sitting at home and pondering her motives wouldn't either give him the answer, or do anything about his current lack of reading material, and he'd skulked back to the library. Everyone had stared at him, which had been disconcerting to say the least. He hoped in time they'd get over it. He, like most people, was a creature of habit. He didn't want to have to travel to another library.

It was currently Saturday morning and he was thinking about Ellie as he did his grocery shopping. Normally he avoided grocery shopping on weekends, but like his trip to the library, his trip to Coles was forced. He had no bread, no milk, no cereal, no pasta, no meat... Well, nothing, really. Breakfast had been half a pack of salted cashews, and he'd had to wipe his arse with a kitchen towel because he was out of both toilet papers and tissues.

'Have a teddy,' a toddler demanded as he stood at the deli counter.

Seth stared at the child, taking in the determined gaze, and the box of Tiny Teddies clutched in his outstretched arm.

'Have one,' the child prodded.

'I, uh...' Seth looked around for the child's parent. A woman who seemed to be his mother was reminding a delicatessen assistant who looked more than a little high - obviously a big night last night - about the type and quantity of ham she'd requested.

The woman caught him staring and followed his gaze, just as her offspring again instructed Seth to have a teddy.

'Sorry,' the woman apologised. She plucked the box from the boy's hands. 'They've been working on 'sharing' in daycare this week.'

The toddler wailed. The delicatessen assistant, who was most definitely off his face, handed the woman her ham and asked if she wanted anything else. Seth fiddled with his ticket and thought about the possibility of putting in an online order next time he needed food.

'He wants to share!' the toddler cried out. 'The man wants a teddy.'

Seth didn't want a tiny teddy, but he ended up taking five of the little biscuits in order to keep the peace. The mother shot him a grateful glance and mouthed 'thank-you'. The toddler was immensely satisfied. The delicatessen assistant paused with his hand hovering over the trays of meat and cheese, and again gormlessly asked the woman what she wanted.

'Two hundred grams of stuffed olives,' she reminded him, in the patient tone of a woman who was accustomed to dealing with tweaker clerks.

'Oh,' the assistant replied, closing the cabinet and walking over to the antipasto section. 'Thanks.'

Madness. It was fucking madness. He'd need to stock up to avoid having to brave the supermarket aisles again anytime in the near future.

Half an hour later he was ready to pay for his purchases. He was still thinking about Ellie as he scanned the registers, trying to find one with a relatively short queue. He'd learned many, useful transferrable skills in the army, but even the best of strategists had been unable to gift him with the ability to gauge which line would proceed the quickest. Hell, maybe there was no strategy to it. Maybe it was like horse-racing - a gamble at best.

The store was in an area heavily populated by Asians, so he didn't immediately recognise the black-haired woman standing in front of him. It wasn't until his gaze settled on her butt and he was admiring how it looked in her loose, white shorts that he realised it was Ellie the librarian. He'd know that arse anywhere.

Should he back the trolley away before she spotted him and find another aisle. Maybe. Maybe not. God, he was gutless wasn't he? After all he'd been through he was worried about a Vietnamese-Australian librarian who wouldn't have weighed more than sixty kilos. Pathetic.

Ellie finished loading her groceries onto the conveyer belt and reached for a plastic separator. As she placed it onto the belt, she caught sight of Seth and the colour drained from her face.

'Oh, hello,' she greeted awkwardly. She glanced at his trolley. 'I wouldn't have picked you as a fan of Tiny Teddies.'

'I'm not, normally, but a toddler at the deli section insisted I take some. I remembered them as tasting awful, but it turns out they're not so bad.'

She eyed him up in a way that was distinctly sexual. He didn't know whether to feel flattered, embarrassed or offended. Hell, who was he kidding? He was flattered. He didn't have half the body he'd had four years ago. Back then, women would stop and stare. Nowadays, not so much. He still worked out, but he'd gotten lazy with his diet and it showed.

But the question. Oh fuck, the goddamn question. He turned away, reaching into his trolley for the heavy items, not wanting to talk to her in case she decided to have a second attempt at asking.

Ellie realised he wasn't interested in chit chat, and hurriedly put her groceries through. It was only when she was waiting for her credit card payment to clear that she turned to him.

'My son's in the army,' she said quickly, embarrassed. 'He joined three years ago. He doesn't speak to me about anything. That's why I asked. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you... I'm sorry. It was stupid. Thoughtless. I'm sorry.'

She had a son? A son who was old enough to have enlisted? He was speechless.

The cashier handed Ellie her receipt and she shoved it into her purse. She turned to him once more, her almond-shaped eyes filled with guilt.

'I'm sorry,' she repeated. 'Really. I can't tell you how sorry I am.'

And then, before he had a chance to reply, she made a beeline for the exit, nearly skittling an elderly couple and two young children in the process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ellie was what many considered an anomaly; an introvert who didn't hate people. Having had a baby two weeks before her sixteenth birthday it was just as well that she enjoyed her own company, because men who were interested in a relationship with a moderately ambitious teen mother were thin on the ground.

Maybe it was because of her background that she felt that it was better to give someone a chance than to write them off based on a first impression. Sometimes she was disappointed, because the person proved to be a cunt, but mostly she was rewarded with a return smile and friendly conversation.

The real estate agent who was selling the house next to hers, if he had a good side, was doing a damn good job of hiding it. He was a man very big on the concept of gentrification and Darra was the suburb currently in his sights.

When Ellie's parents had bought their house, and when Ellie had bought hers, it had been an undesirable suburb, being home to Vietnamese immigrants, working class white people, overhead powerlines and a lot of industry. But as Brisbane's population exploded, and house prices had boomed, it's position near nicer suburbs and proximity to the central business district meant the unthinkable was occurring. Rich white folks were moving in, displacing people who had for years benefitted from low rents and proximity to their workplaces and ethnic communities.

'This prat was taking a couple through the house last night just as I arrived home. I kid you not, Deb, he looked over at me and said to his clients; 'don't worry, she's a second generation immigrant'.' Ellie pulled a face as she complained to her workmate. 'He didn't even bother lowering his voice.'

Her workmate laughed. 'That's bad.'

'Yeah, I know. Happy Birthday Ellie, you're acceptable because you were born here. Too bad if you weren't. I should have yelled out to him that my parents were boat people.' Ellie complained, adjusting her name badge.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Seth. Oh great. Just bloody great. Now he probably thought she was a lunatic, or hated white people. The former was probably true, but the latter wasn't. She smiled at him, and to her surprise, he returned the smile before sauntering over to the book return and checking in his latest returns.

Deb nudged her. 'He's back again.'

'Yeah, I know,' she whispered, eyeing up Seth. He was in knee length shorts and a white shirt, and there was no mistaking the broadness of his shoulders, or the muscular bulk of his arms. 'How do you think little old ladies react when they've had a fall and he comes around to help?'

'Let me just say that if I was a little old lady and he came around, I'd be needing a lot of assistance,' Deb giggled. 'I might also accidentally drop something so he had to bend down and pick it up.'

It was story-time, and they stopped chatting so Deb could go over and read to the young children. Ellie got caught up in her work, helping an elderly man find a book that was showing up on the system as available but wasn't on the shelf, taking room bookings, trouble-shooting wi-fi issues and taking delivery of this week's magazines.

It wasn't until an hour or so later that she realised Seth was gone. He'd obviously slipped out quietly. Once upon a time he'd always found an excuse to talk to her, and to say 'good-bye', but those days had obviously gone.

That night, she went home to her quiet, empty house. She did her washing, weeded her flowerbed, made dinner, and ate it in front of the television. Her life seemed so quiet and lonely these days. She'd always expected Aidan to hang around well into his mid-twenties. She thought he might go to university, and then stay at home until he saved for a deposit for a place of his own. In short, she'd assumed he'd do what she had done.