quiet, this is a library

[lifes_sake]

Cam's in the library, waiting for Renée. "Waiting" here means "browsing until a quarter hour after ostensible meeting time". Renée is supposed to meet him here - on the way home for both of them, him from high school and her from elementary where she teaches kindergarten - but she is rarely punctual. Her co-workers or stray parents or the principal keep her after and Cam does notebooking, does homework, looks at the contents of shelves. It's a fine arrangement.

Today the contents of shelves don't seem so pleased with the setup, and one attacks him when he stumbles into a stack. Specifically, it tumbles onto his head. That's gonna hurt for a while. He picks it up to tuck it away again.

It says, So You Want To Be A Wizard.

Heh. Mis-shelved. This is a nonfiction row. Or maybe it's about stage magic or something? Cam's not going to find any use in that either, he can just about eat dinner without impaling himself on a fork and certainly shouldn't be handling delicate props, but it could be diverting while he waits for Renée and he wasn't finding anything else. He flips it open.

It's more interesting still than that; it's presenting itself like an actual guide to wizardry. This'll kill a whole afternoon with pleasant escapism. Cam checks it out, then turns around and spots Renée coming down the sidewalk. He bags the book and goes out to meet her.

At home, he takes it out of his backpack. The plastic film on it - it did have some, right? Just like every other library book? - is gone. Maybe it didn't have any. He didn't write it down; he's not sure. It doesn't look like a library book now. But it still says So You Want To Be A Wizard and he still wants to pretend to be a wizard for a bit, kill some time, put off U.S. History homework. He flips it open. He reads.

Comments

[lifes_sake]

"Okay. Boy, I have more work to do than I originally suspected, I guess."

[pythbox]

"What kind of work?"

[lifes_sake]

"Well, I can eat a bizarre diet and not buy wooden things of my own volition, but that doesn't stop anybody else. So I have to learn a lot of magic and find reasonable alternatives to that sort of thing that doesn't kill anything smart. And here I was thinking that I'd just, you know, cure iodine deficiency in sub-Saharan Africa and call that a good day's work."

[pythbox]

"That does sound like a lot," says the tree. "Good luck!"

[lifes_sake]

"Thanks! Have you got a name? You are friendlier than the tree in my yard."

[pythbox]

"Sure! It's—"

The name doesn't translate the way words do; it's a particular pattern of light falling through branches.

"What's yours?"

[lifes_sake]

"...Cam," says Cam. "I don't think I can pronounce yours."

[pythbox]

"I don't think I can pronounce yours either," laughs the tree. "How about I call you Leafless?"

[lifes_sake]

"I am arguably leafless!" Cam agrees. "You can be Leafy. I had better not make friends with too many trees, huh?"

[pythbox]

Leafy giggles.

[lifes_sake]

"What kind of range does talking like you talk have? There's some grass over there, the Harrises have a lawn, can you hear it or should I go talk to it and see if I can extrapolate to cereal grains?"

[pythbox]

"I've never tried talking to grass," says Leafy. "And I don't think grass has tried talking to me either. So I don't know if I can hear it or not."

[lifes_sake]

"Okay. Is it nice, being a tree? I'd probably be bored, but perhaps you are not."

[pythbox]

"It's kind of lonely," Leafy rustles. "But maybe that's just because there aren't many other trees around."

[lifes_sake]

"Yeah, it's pretty dry in Phoenix," says Cam. "Maybe I'll come study out here in good weather, would that be nice?"

[pythbox]

"That would be very nice!"

[lifes_sake]

"All right. Anything else you can think of to tell me that might help me revise my habits in light of more things than previously understood being able to talk?"

[pythbox]

"Sorry," says Leafy. "I'm just a plain old Blue Palo Verde, I'm not especially wise or anything."

[lifes_sake]

"...Hm," says Cam, when it occurs to him to wonder who would have been likely to render the name of this tree's species aloud in its hearing. He pulls out Grace, scribbles in her for a bit, and, while he's looking at his notes, hears her say -

"Your brain's just rendering what Leafy said as words in English, and that's the word in English for this kinda tree," Grace says.

"Yeah," agrees Cam after a moment. "...Ah, Leafy, this is Grace, she's a notebook, I hope that's not awkward."

[pythbox]

"I suppose she can't help how she was made," says Leafy. "Hi, Grace."

[lifes_sake]

"Hi!" says Grace.

Yeah, Cam needs to obtain a computer if he can no longer in good conscience support the book industry. Sigh. Maybe he can buy used books? The secondary sale market can't drive up demand too much, can it?

"I'm gonna go investigate the grass," says Cam. "Later, Leafy."

[pythbox]

"Bye, Leafless! Bye, Grace!"

[lifes_sake]

Cam goes up to the grass. He pretends to need to tighten the laces on his sneakers so he isn't just randomly sitting on the sidewalk.

"Hi, grass."

He'll get used to addressing random inanimate objects any day now.

[pythbox]

"Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!"

...and so on.

[lifes_sake]

"...Hi, this specific tuft of grass!" he says, pointing at one and then going back to tying his shoes. "How smart are you?"