The Magic of Stories

11 - A Gift

As promised to Marjorie, I went back to the library after my visit and returned the manuscript. On a Saturday evening, the place was quiet and dark, a stark contrast to the friendly premises I was used to. I shut Conny's drawer and was about to leave when the hero of her story appeared beside me in a blue glow. I jumped and pressed a hand to my chest.

"Luca, I told you I'll suffer a heart attack if you keep doing it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to, but it's kind of hard when you can't hear my steps. Cat told me you found my story?"

I took a deep breath and looked into his amazing blue eyes, now filled with apprehension. "Yes, I did, and just as he suspected, it is an unfinished story."

His shoulders slumped as he stared at the floor. "So, this means I'm caught forever in this stage of in-between?"

"I'm not an expert, but Cat seemed to believe that you're bound to this place by the manuscript, yes."

"What if you destroy it, then? Would you do this for me?"

I gazed at him in shock. "No, I can't. It isn't mine in the first place, and I already feel bad for taking it. Besides, how can you be sure you wouldn't disappear together with your story?"

A deep frown formed on his forehead.

"You're right, a destruction might be dangerous. But then, I might get killed in the story, anyway."

"I doubt this. From what I've read, yours is more of a happy tale." Too late, I realised I shouldn't have mentioned that.

Luca's eyes lit up, and Cat appeared on the front desk. "Ha, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist. So, spoil the beans and tell us what it is about."

A sigh escaped my lips. "It's a story about finding an adequate place in the hectic world of adults. I find it quite funny and like it, but it stops somewhere in the middle without a hint on how it will end."

Luca scuffed the floor with one of his trainers. They were the same light blue as his favourite pair in the story. "So, you're sure there is not just one chapter missing, but half of the story?"

I shrugged, unsure if this mattered at all.

Cat ran a paw over his face. "It doesn't change a thing if you can't get Conny to write the rest of the story."

Luca turned towards him and then me. "Your sad colleague is the author?"

"I guess, and Marjorie confirmed Conny was writing on a story before her husband got his blood cancer diagnosis. We suspect that she never found the time or motivation afterwards to finish her work."

Cat paced up and down on the desk, his tail erect and twitching. "There is only one solution—you must motivate her to write again."

Another sigh. "I can try, but I doubt she'll appreciate my intervention."

The sad look in Luca's eyes pierced my heart, but I didn't have a solution. "Listen, we can't solve this tonight, and I should get some dinner and sleep after a long week. I promise I'll talk to Conny next Monday and see if I can do something about this, right?"

Luca nodded, a reluctant gesture, and he avoided my glance. I felt bad for him, but I didn't want to buildup false hopes. "Please, I try to help, but I'm not a magician."

"It's alright, Lynn." He reached out a hand but stopped centimetres before he touched my arm. "Your support and honesty means a lot—at least you helped me understand what my problem is."

"Right," Cat chimed in, "and to recognise the problem is the first step on the road to its solution. Enjoy your weekend, Lynn, and see you on Monday."

"Thanks, boys. Watch out for the library in the meantime, not that some pesky ghosts sneak in."