24 Hour Lockdown Read online

  "I-I'm Susan.” She is very hesitant. “My daughter, Amelia, is still in the children's section."

  I was about to say something when the large man comes over and interrupts.

  "Wait a minute. Is your kid the one that was screaming?"

  I watch as Susan frowns. "Amelia was just upset. And I don’t appreciate you talking about her like that."

  The man throws his hands up and moans. "Oh, just peachy! Stuck in a library with a spoiled brat!"

  "My baby is not a brat!" She snaps back.

  I hold my hands out between them, hoping my positive vibes will block the negative. I don’t like arguing and find it a waste of time.

  Suddenly we hear the librarian over the loud system. It sounds as if the poor lady is crying. Susan and the man stop fighting and we all listen.

  "For the time being, you all will have to work things out amongst yourselves. The police will call when it’s over. But for now, shut up and go away!"

  Chapter two

  Susan

  Well, that lady was rather rude! Shouldn’t the librarian be out here with us? Assuring us everything will be alright and keeping things in order?

  I look over at the man who insulted my daughter and glare. He’s nothing but a brute!

  The others are reluctantly leaving the counter. I remain standing where I am, lost in my thoughts. What are we going to do? How long will this last? Mitch will be home late tonight. What will he say when he finds out about this? I hope he doesn't get angry and…

  Suddenly I hear my precious baby calling for me. I drop my bag and take off towards her, calling her name. I finally spot her in an aisle of picture books and catch my breath.

  "Are you alright, sweetie?"

  I walk towards her and she takes off running through the aisle giggling. I run to catch up and the moment I find her, she takes off again. This has become a game. She usually only does this in the grocery. I can’t imagine what brought this on.

  At least she is laughing and having fun instead of screaming.

  This game of chase lasts for a few minutes until she gets tired and decides to grab an armful of books and throw them on the ground.

  I’m worn out from running and can only shake my head and say, "No angel! Mommy says stop."

  Amelia ignores me and throws a book. It lands close to my feet. She laughs and reaches for more.

  I fear for what this section of the library will look like by the end.

  George

  I chuckle to myself watching that train wreck of a mom chase that brat around. My point has been proven on a number of levels. I can’t stand bad parents.

  I go back to my computer to work on my new idea. I’m eager to start on it and I can already see a few decent characters in my head. When I sit down, I find out that that my computer has been shut down. Meaning everything I was working on has been lost! I know it wasn’t 2much but come on!

  I stand up and kick the chair. It isn't fair! Of all the times and places to be! Stuck here with a genius idea and no way to write it!

  Wait… Of Times and Places! That’s a catchy title. The setting could be an, elevator? No, a psych ward! Yes!

  Now just to write it. I check my backpack out of desperation. Just as I thought. No paper. What kind of a writer doesn’t carry paper with them? I’m a failure. Just then my ears pick up the familiar click, click sound of keys.

  I look over to see that dude typing away on his laptop. I rub my chin in interest. First and second impressions obviously didn't go well, but perhaps third impressions?

  I straighten my computer area, spit in both my hands, and slick back my hair as best as I can. My shirt is clean, enough. With purpose I walk up to him and stick out a hand in front of him. He’s a business man and must be dealt with on a professional level.

  "Hello, Mr. Amos. I’m George Sanders, an upcoming playwright."

  Marc looks up from his work and studies me with contempt. Unphased, I continue my spiel.

  "I have recently been inspired and as you can see, the computers have been shut down. Might you give me the honor of using your laptop to write?"

  Marc

  Is this fool serious? Like I would ever consider letting this gorilla use my laptop. Just look at that wrinkled shirt, that greasy hair, and those sandals! A disgrace! This is exactly why I detest public places.

  But since he had the gaul to approach me I should at least turn him down. I clear my throat and lean forward as if I truly care about this guy and his needs.

  "Mr. Sanders, if this inspiration is coming from your mind, perhaps it is better not share it with the world."

  Oh dear, I seem to have hit a nerve. His face is turning red. I shoo him away and go back to my work, assuming he will just leave me alone.

  Suddenly his unwashed hands grab my screen and yank! The savage! I stand up and grab the keyboard and pull back.

  Snap!

  My world stops cold in that instant. My laptop is, is…I can’t even think the horrible truth. Fingering the end where the screen used to be, I can tell it can’t be repaired. I glare daggers at the slob and run at him. He will pay! He will buy me a new one out of his miserable pocket! I will own his soul!

  Joseph

  From where I stand by the magazine rack, I watch the whole beautiful scene play out. Finally, some justice! You know how much blood money paid for that machine? Plenty!

  I pump a fist in the air when moneybags is punched in the gut and he groans. This is almost as good as holding him up myself. But not quite, as I want to experience the revenge.

  Although my plans have slightly backfired I'm trying not to worry too much. Who knows how long this lockdown will last? If I had to, I could alter my plans and strike tonight. Imagine how dark this place gets at night. I could get him alone and introduce him to my knife.

  I shake my head. No, he has to be left stranded with no one to turn to. Just like she was. I clench my fists just thinking about mom. I take a breath and focus on watching the fight.

  It’s still going strong. Both guys have some nasty bruises. That hippie, what's her name? Melody? She’s watching from the corner.

  I look out the nearby window and see a pretty picture of a sunset. The red and orange colors are almost ominous.

  Moneybags better enjoy it. It maybe his last sunset if I have anything to say about it.

  Melody

  "Please friends! Let’s not fight, it isn’t worth it. Seek out peaceful thoughts!"

  I watch as Marc throws a weary swing and the heavyset man clumsily dodges it. They are finally getting tired, thankfully! I’ve been trying to focus all my positive energy in their direction in hopes it will fill them with peace. It doesn't seem to be doing much good though. These men have a lot of anger.

  I have to wonder why Joseph isn’t doing anything to help. He’s just standing off the side smiling. It’s obvious he’s enjoying it. But why? Why would anyone enjoy watching people express such hate?

  I am not sure how this argument started in the first place. I was sitting on the couch between the CD and magazine racks reading my book. I’m only in the introduction, but it speaks to me in such a vibrant way.

  Suddenly I notice Susan running over. I don’t see her daughter though. She’s anxiously looking around and calling for Amelia. I hope the girl isn’t lost.

  It’s then that Susan notices the men fighting and calls out for them to stop. She grabs Marc’s arm and tries to pull him back. It doesn’t do any good. I watch as she attempts to squeeze in between and pull them apart that way.

  Suddenly… No! One of Marc’s weak punches hits her in the face! I let out a scream and run to help her.

  Chapter three

  Susan

  I reel back from the impact but catch myself from falling. My first thought is of Amelia and how thankful I am that she isn’t here to see this.

  While I was shelving the books she had thrown down, Amelia must have left the children’s area, because I can’t find her. I had hoped to ask these people i
f they had seen her, but then I saw the fighting and my instincts took over.

  I hate when Mitch wants to pick fights. Especially in public. I’ve had to pull him off people before and I’m usually pretty good at dodging flying fists.

  My face feels hot and I don’t bother to touch it because I know it will hurt. There wasn’t much force behind the punch, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be.

  Melody is by my side, ushering me away. Most likely to the bathroom. Behind me I hear more arguing but instead of fighting, it's yelling.

  "Look what you did!"

  "What I did? You hit a woman!"

  "If you hadn't destroyed my laptop!"

  "If you would have just let me use it to begin with!"

  I'm glad to be led away from all that yelling. I only hope Amelia is okay and I find her soon.

  George

  I have more than one reason to hate this guy now. Besides the snobbish attitude, nobody ever hits a woman. No matter how annoying her kid is.

  I feel a cut on my lip and rub my tongue over it. Who would have thought one could get into a fist fight at the library?

  Marc is in pretty bad shape. He’s breathing hard and leaning over trying to catch his breath. His hair is no longer neatly greased back and his suit is now rumpled. Not to mention a nice little shiner he’ll have in the morning.

  "I hope you're satisfied," I growl.

  The snob straightens up and frowns. "You own me a laptop."

  I mull this over. Do I owe him a laptop? I guess I did react badly. To be honest, I’m not sure why I grabbed the screen like that. I was mad and just lashed out. But who has the money for a laptop these days? Certainly not me! That’s like getting blood out of a turnip. But what are the odds I'll ever see this dufus again? Slim.

  I raise an eyebrow and smirk. "Sure pal, when this is all over, I'll buy ya a laptop. If..." I pause as an idea comes to mind.

  He looks at me funny. "You dare to lay terms to this?"

  "When Susan and the flower child…"

  He jumps in and corrects me. "Her name is Melody, beef for brains."

  I let the insult slide and continue. "When they get back, you openly apologize to Susan. And you also apologize for insulting my writing."

  Marc

  If there is one thing I've learned in life it's to never apologize for anything. Especially if it's your fault. Then again, can this brute even afford a laptop? A Marc Amos quality laptop? I highly doubt it. Unless…

  I nod and form my words carefully. “I will do all you requested. If! When we get out of here, you take out a certain large dollar amount at my loan company."

  His eyes are wide and I can almost see the rusty gears in his head creaking as they try to turn.

  He opens his mouth. "What good would that do?"

  "Plenty good if you wish to afford the laptop I have in mind.”

  "No apology is worth that," he wisely concludes. I admit, had he agreed, I would have seen to it that the loan would have been difficult to pay off.

  "Smart move, guy," Joseph rudely cuts in.

  Joseph

  I'm glad to see that not everyone cowers at moneybags. I must congratulate this guy, whoever he is. First, he bruises him up pretty good, and now this. I knew he wasn’t one to mess with.

  I move from where I had been listening and walk over.

  "I heard that condition. He'd be getting a laptop and your entire life's savings trying to pay back that loan. He'd make his own mother take out a loan before giving her one cent."

  My new friend nods knowingly and frowns at moneybags. "I know a scam when I hear one.” He then turns on me. “And the name is George. Anything else and I'll knock your block off."

  I hold up my hands in surrender. "Alright. George it is."

  A hand clamps on my shoulder and I immediately shove it off and face him. Moneybags looks indigent.

  "And just who are you exactly?"

  "Joseph. We established this earlier. Or were you too busy planning how to destroy another life?"

  His eyes bore into mine, as if searching for something. I have to be more careful with what I say.

  "What makes you think you can speak so low of me?"

  "Maybe I just know a rat when I see one."

  His brows furrow and he takes a step forward. "You insignificant little…"

  Melody

  Susan's injury was not as bad as I had feared. I was really surprised how well she took it. While I tended her face in the restroom, she told me about her daughter, Amelia. She sounds full of good vibes. I can’t wait to meet her!

  When we rejoin the group, I’m glad to see the men have stopped yelling. My flow of positive energy must have finally worked. Although they don’t look too happy. It seems we may have stumbled into a heated debate.

  They stop talking when they see us arrive and I’m shocked when George asks her if she is alright.

  "I’m fine,” she answers quietly. “I need to go find Amelia.”

  I watch as she goes to the children's section alone. She is a strong woman and I admire her. I turn back to the men and put my hands on my hips.

  "You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Fighting in a sacred home of books and hitting a girl when she wasn't looking. If we are going to get along from here on out, no more arguing.”

  Chapter four

  Susan

  I’m relieved when I see Amelia racing toward me. She runs into my open arms and I engulf her in a hug. I’ve been frantic, looking for her. She wasn’t anywhere downstairs so I went upstairs. I can’t even begin to imagine where she’s been this whole time.

  I rub her back and kiss her forehead. "Stay with mommy. Don’t run off anymore. Okay?”

  "I wanna go home, mommy," she says softly.

  I hug her tighter. "Me too, and all the others here. But for now, we have to be brave. Can you be brave for mommy?"

  Amelia nods her head and together we head back to join the others. To my delight there are chairs set up in a circle and everyone is sitting down together.

  The men are on one side of the circle and it looks as if Melody has saved us two seats next to George. It seems like we are finally going to have some order around here.

  Melody sees us coming and gives a friendly wave. "Is that Amelia? She's so groovy!"

  I hear George mutter something under his breath but decide to not mention it.

  "We’ve been talking and have decided to properly introduce ourselves,” Melody explains.

  George

  None of us really agreed on doing this. Melody just kind of took over. It’s better than Marc being in charge though, so I won’t complain much.

  I shrug. "If we have to be trapped, we might as well get used to the idea of being around each other."

  I watch as Susan sits down beside Melody. To my dismay that kid plops down beside me. Brilliant. I shift in my seat, inching further away. It would look bad to stand up and move.

  Melody looks at me expectantly. "George, you may begin.”

  Figures I’d be picked on first. "What do you want to know?"

  Marc opens his big mouth. "How about your financial standing?"

  I give him a look. This is going to be a long night. Speaking of night, I didn't realize how late it was getting. I lean over to look out one of the windows. It's nearly dark out.

  "Say, what time is it anyway?"

  "9:17," Susan answers as she glances at her watch.

  "That long? I've spent over two hours here with you people? How long are those cops going to keep us waiting?"

  "It's that criminal's fault,” Marc corrects me.

  I shake my head. "Either way, this whole situation stinks." Not to mention, I’ve got dogs at home that are gonna hate me for being late.

  Melody sits forward and smiles widely. "Tell us about yourself." That hippie will never let this drop, will she? I roll my eyes.

  "I'm a 43-year-old struggling playwright who has no family and is trapped in a library with a bunch of wackos."

 
Marc

  Is that the best he can do? I cross my right leg over my left and clear my throat.

  "Allow someone who actually has a life, to do the talking. At the young age of just twelve I obtained my first thousand dollars after starting a small business in my neighborhood. From there on I worked my way up to the top of the business ladder. I finished high school one year early. Then I attended Harvard where I graduated with honors. Hilltop Banking and Loan was smart enough to hire me and it grew overnight. Now I am a well-known name is the world of finance."

  I hear Joseph let out a huff beside me. “You forgot to mention how humble you are," he says sarcastically.

  I open my mouth to argue, but Melody cuts in. "No fighting. We should be happy for Marc that he is so successful. Even if he is a tree killer."

  I sit up in my seat, astounded at what Melody just said.

  "Pardon me? Don’t you know you’re in a building briming over with dead trees?" I stare at her, wondering how she will respond.

  Melody takes in a deep breath and smiles. "A book is not a dead tree. The tree has given its life to us for our pleasure."

  I can only shake my head. The things that some people come up with absolutely blow my mind.

  Melody is determined to keep the conversation going and turns to Joseph. "How about you? Tell us about yourself."

  Joseph

  All eyes are watching me expectantly and I suddenly feel a bit anxious. There's not much I can say without giving myself away.