Summer Reading Sabotage

By Katie Fitzgerald

For a children’s librarian, the deadliest weapon is the paper cutter. With one wrong slice, important papers such as reading forms can be destroyed. I know, because it happened to me last summer. One June morning, I found everything for the Summer Reading kickoff—from bookmarks to tracking charts—on my desk, cut apart horizontally instead of vertically, making them utterly useless, and nearly ruining the biggest program of the year.

“Darnell!” My pulse increased as I summoned our janitor. The most efficient worker in the whole place, he missed nothing. If someone had been over here during the evening shift, or even early that morning, he’d know.

He lumbered over from the entryway carrying the watering can he used to freshen up the plants. “Everything okay, Miss Jenna?”

“Definitely not.” I showed him the disaster. “Did you see anyone here after my shift? Teens, maybe?” Notorious pranksters, some of those middle schoolers. I thought they might still be mad because I said no more Minecraft on the homework computers.

“The usual crowd was thrown out after you went home,” Darnell said. “They were trying to get into your desk drawers, but they were locked. Miss Kelsey caught them in time.”

I should have focused on the fact that those kids tried to get into the locked drawer—where I kept the paper cutter—but hearing the name of the other librarian sent me down a much likelier trail. Kelsey had it out for me, and she had called in sick yesterday. “Kelsey was here last night?”

“She stopped in for a bit, yes.” Darnell nodded slowly, his brow furrowing beneath his bald pate. “Why?”

I smirked. Kelsey was an old-school librarian. She despised my story times when I played ukulele and danced, and she hated that I didn’t demand silence in the library. Add into the mix that I had recently corrected her on the name of an author in front of a patron, and of course she’d want to sabotage my work.

Dumping the ruined paperwork into the recycling bin, I left a bewildered Darnell standing by my desk, holding his dribbling watering can. After rushing up the main staircase, I burst into the staff office. Kelsey’s billowing blonde hair seemed extra wild. She was dipping a tea bag in a mug with her left hand, which was odd since she was a rightie. When she turned, I understood the reason. Her right arm was in a cast up to the elbow.

“Did you need something?” She blinked behind thick red glasses.

“I… was going to ask if you could cut something on the paper cutter for me.” No, it wasn’t strictly true, but it was better than pointing a finger in her face and making an accusation, which had been my plan.

She clicked her tongue. “And how do you expect me to use a machine that requires two hands?”

“I don’t know.” I sighed, deflated. “Is that why you were out yesterday?”

Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

I backed out of the room. I needed to hustle if I was going to get everything reprinted. I didn’t have time to play Miss Marple anymore. Families were coming in an hour, and my materials weren’t ready!

Back downstairs, I started my print jobs then headed to the copier to grab them as they emerged. When the first one was done, I ran it over to my desk, then went back for the second one.

As I waited for the last of the bookmarks, Darnell came shuffling along. “Miss Jenna, your gentleman caller is at your desk.”

I grinned, warmth rising in my cheeks. Darnell’s nickname for Paul always made me giggle. It was so old-fashioned and perfect for him—an antique-collecting, vintage-book-loving, old soul librarian. He worked upstairs but visited me frequently. On this stressful day, seeing his handsome face would be a welcome respite.

Scooping up the last of the bookmarks, I hustled back to my desk. But what I saw when I arrived stopped me dead in my tracks. A key hung from the bottom drawer of my desk, which was now wide open. On the desktop sat the paper cutter, that weapon of mass destruction, with no one else at the helm but Paul. He had a page of reading trackers, which he was about to cut apart. Horizontally!

“Stop!” I jogged the last few paces and snatched the paper out of his hand. “How could you?” The love interest as saboteur—what a horrendous plot twist.

“Hey,” he said, with a confused grin. “I saw you had some more, so I figured I’d surprise you again. I know you’ve been swamped.”

Surprise me? Again? Wait… “Did you work last night?”

Paul nodded. “I thought I told you. I had time, so I did some of your stuff.”

I slid the paper I had taken from his hand back into the paper cutter and rotated it to the correct, vertical orientation. “These go like this,” I said evenly.

Paul’s eyes widened and his freckled cheeks reddened. His voice was an airless squeak. “I cut them all wrong.”

“But not on purpose.” Relief flooded through me, not just because no one was out to get me—not today, at least—but because Paul had recognized my hour of need and tried to rescue me. Gentleman caller for sure.

“I’m so sorry.”

“There’s only one way to make this up to me,” I told him, trying to sound stern but betraying my feelings with a broad grin.

“Anything,” Paul said, with a sheepish smile.

“Cut the rest of them out the right way,” I instructed him. “And ask me out already!”

Paul laughed shyly. “I can do that.”

The paper cutter is almost always known for violent, irreparable separation, but on that day, it brought Paul and me together. And any way you slice it, that makes it a happy memory.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Katie Fitzgerald is a children’s librarian turned homeschooling mom of four daughters and one son. She writes short stories in the mystery, humor, and romance genres, which have appeared in online magazines and print anthologies. When she’s not writing, she’s usually listening to an audiobook at triple speed or buying used paperbacks to add to her to-be-read pile.

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