Darkest Miriam

Here are the trees.

Can you make little leaves for me?

Here are the leaves with their--

trees with their leaves so green.

And here are the apples that hide between.

When the wind blows...

That's a lot of wind!

The apples fall.

Boom, boom, boom, boom.

I'm not finished!

It is my turn.

I found a pair of dentures unattached in the foyer.

I'm not finished sending my email!

Your half hour is over.

You'll have to wait your turn.

Your half hour is over!

It is my turn.

I'm not finished!

I'm not finished.

It is my turn.

Bald man, I'm not finished!

Your half hour is over!

Bald man, I'm not finished sending my email!

You'll have to wait your turn, bald man!

You shut up.

You shut the fuck up.

I'm not finished!

10:05 am.

An unusually pale female patron

accused a man with a suitcase of hitting her.

A nearby patron would not corroborate this claim.

Unusually pale female patron then stole a pair of dentures.

I'll take these.

The owner of these dentures

is currently unknown.

We ought to be paid twice as much

as some of those idiots in administration who have no idea.

Serving patrons who've lost their minds,

who cry all over you one minute

and then bite your head off the next.

Not to mention those who piss their pants

and can't seem to find their way to a shower.

Ever heard of soap?

The stench.

Four more hours to go.

I think I hear a toilet overflowing.

Fainting man is out front.

Yeah, I need you to come. He's back.

Are you okay?

All is well, all is well.

Please don't call 911.

They will charge me for the ambulance.

All is well.

Ah... never mind, it's fine. Okay, bye.

The following is a list of patrons

who frequent the Allan Gardens branch of the public library.

Fainting Man, who is a new immigrant

and has no health coverage.

Su, my co-worker, who I would describe as triangular.

Natalie, who seeks out a quiet corner to study on Tuesdays.

Unusually pale female patron,

who always walks on the diagonal.

Tom, who used to be a classical pianist.

Irene Frenkle, the branch head, and my boss.

Suitcase Man, who often bows, bending abruptly at the waist.

Beautiful Man, who is beautiful.

Piano Girl and her mom...

who also plays the piano.

John B., our most regular patron,

who suffers from dementia.

Desperate Man, whose older brother often leaves him

at our branch for the day.

And my father.

Sit down.

You can sit down if you want.

How you been doing?

My father owned the same suitcase

as Suitcase Man.

He allowed me to press the metal buttons,

and if I wasn't quick enough,

the tabs, springing back, struck me on the knuckles,

causing me to cry out.

Sometimes my father placed his hand kindly on my head,

pleased to see that I was learning my lesson.

4:40 pm.

A sticky mess was found at a table

in the back of the library.

A number of books were arranged in an upright position

on the table.

They appear to have served as a screen.

The books, soiled by what looked like common semen.

No actions were taken.

Hello. Good morning.

Hmm.

"Laugh, laugh, get on with your laughter at my expense.

"You don't think I'm capable of protecting my own daughter,

"do you? You'll see pretty--"

I just found this in the garbage can.

Who throws books away...? In a library?

Okay, I'm on break.

"You'll see pretty soon "what I'm capable of.

"I am Rigoletto, and I will not be doing any more suffering."

Weird.

When I was 11,

my father took me to the opera .

He chose Rigoletto

and explained that it was about a man who was cursed.

I sat on the edge of my chair and allowed the music to seduce me.

Excuse me, miss?

May I help you?

-I don't believe this is the sort of guy

women find attractive.

I mean...

it's more what he thinks that...

that's what turns women on, right?

It's...

it's more their ideas, what they go for.

Uh, yeah.

-Right? -Absolutely, yes.

Hmm.

Su cuts out glossy ads for men's underwear ,

close-up shots of scantily-concealed genitals.

- She pins these to the bulletin board by the fridge. Hello, boys.

Irene has tried for years

to get her to take it down.

Yeah...

To no avail.

Alright, see you then.

Hey, Janko!

Hi.

Sorry to interrupt.

You're very good.

Thank you.

Um...

Do you often play opera music?

No.

Um, we found the music on the piano,

so my daughter wanted to try it.

You play it extremely well.

Thank you very much.

Sorry.

I'm off.

Alright. Have a good one.

Once, my father disappeared for three days .

I listened while my mother telephoned the police.

I asked her if he'd been murdered.

She assured me that he was alive and wandering somewhere,

ducking in and out of used bookstores.

"How did she know?" I asked.

She told me that once before I was born,

he'd vanished and had spent his days

frequenting used bookstores.

But he'd promised her he would never disappear again.

Miriam...

What good is a promise? I asked.

Health card, please.

Name, Miriam Gordon.

Date of birth, February 9th, 1985.

Yeah.

Father's name?

Pardon?

Father's name, please?

Why?

Edward?

No.

That's why.

We don't want to confuse your records

with another Miriam Gordon's records.

Oh. That makes sense.

Father's name?

Morris.

Married?

Yes, to my mother.

I mean, are you married?

No.

Never married?

-No. -Always single?

Yes.

Next of kin?

We need an emergency contact person.

Irene.

416-534-2732.

Last name?

Frenkle.

With an "e."

Is this her cell?

I mean, I don't have it.

Okay, well, we'll need to contact this person

outside of work. Any... other family?

Friends?

Any medications you're on?

No meds.

Suicidal ideation? Any history of mental illness?

Okay. What brings you in today?

I'm fine, actually. I feel fine.

I am Janko.

And you?

Miriam.

I've seen you at the library.

I work there.