Page 14 of The Love of My Afterlife
I grimace at my computer screen.
“Actually, yes. Do you have, like, records of people? Addresses and phone numbers and things?”
“For members of the public? You want someone’s address? Use a search engine!”
“I just did! But there are millions of results. I’m trying to find someone and there isn’t much time.”
“You sound panicked, love!” Aled purses his lips. “Is…is this serious?”
“It’s literally life-or-death,” I mutter distractedly, scrolling down the Google results and then clicking onto the images page. Nothing of use.
“Hmmm, I see. I see.” Aled rubs his hands together. “I may not have access to private phone numbers, but I think I do have something that can help. A little something called…books!”
8
Aled is super helpful. Oddly so, like he decided that was his personal brand and he was going to lean the hell into it. Trailing me through the library, he calls out to various people perusing the shelves. “Mrs. Marani, I ordered you the new Ottolenghi book. It’s at the front desk,” or “You don’t want that one, Danny—it’s not twisty enough for you. Try the Lisa Jewell instead.” And, strangely: “Mr. Timms, don’t you have an optician’s appointment in five minutes? You’ll be late!”
He chuckles, looking back at me excitedly as we enter the true crime section of the library. It’s packed with people. Disturbing. Aled announces the most helpful books by actually taking them off the shelf and dumping them into my arms.
“I don’t think I need all of these.” I try to unload the three books on missing persons back into Aled’s skinny arms, but he holds his palms out so that I can’t.
“This Jonah character you mentioned…He’s a missing person, isn’t he?”
“Well, not officially a ‘missing person.’ ”
“Can you find him?”
“No, but I don’t really know him…”
“And you say it’s literally life-or-death?”
“Well, yes. Yes it is.”
“Sounds like a missing person to me or, as they say in the biz, amisper.” He taps the spine of another book. “Oh, this one is very good. They don’t end up finding the victim, but the story is heart-wrenching. Very emotional. I did cry, but then I cry at everything. I once cried at an advertisement for bubble bath.”
He piles another three books into my arms, and while I’m usually excellent at shoving off unwanted interactions, Aled is persistent in a way I have not encountered in a while. I’m not quite sure how to respond.
When we get to the library counter, me with five big-ass books about missing persons and true crime, and one calledDetecting for Dummies, Aled asks me for my library card.
“I don’t have one.”
His face crumples like I’ve just revealedhehas ten days to live.
“Did you lose it?”
“Nope. I just don’t have one.”
Aled shakes his head in disbelief, handing me a form to fill in with my full name and address. “Wow. Well, this is an exciting day for you and me both. A library card is a portal, if you will, into any universe you can imagine. Oh, the adventures you will have, eh?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be coming back anytime soon.”
“You have to!” he says, tapping my details into the computer and then handing me a little plastic green card, magically printed with my name. “To return the books! That’s the trick, see? And when you do, I’ll be here with recommendationsgalore.” He claps his hands together. “I’ll start a list as soon as you’ve gone.”
“Okay,” I say vaguely, stacking the books into my arms and heading towards the exit. “Um, thanks…”
“You’ll be back,” Aled says in a robotic impression of the Terminator. He holds up a little stuffed owl from his desk and waves its wing as I walk away. I turn back before I leave the front door.
He’s still waving.
