Most people only see him in books. Some might see him in a movie, or dream about him, or see him in their imagination. I saw him in the library...
It was a hot day. Even though it was nearing night, the heat hit me as I left the Church. From the corner of my eye I noticed the library across the street. Should I go? Should I skip it? I thought about it for a second, stopped, and walked back to the corner. Cars passed by. I looked left, then right, then left again...and stared! An old car approached slowly. The only one in sight. On the outside it was tarnished and bronze. It crept slowly to the library entrance. The entire back seat was filled with books. Old books, new books, used books...no way to possibly tell what they all were. There were so many that even the front passenger seat was covered in them.
But the most interesting thing of all was the driver. He bent cautiously over the steering wheel, peering through the front window, trying to decide what he wanted to do. His hat looked like an old felt cowboy hat, bent and torn to perfection. His full, white beard drifted down over his face, covering every part of his chin and neck, but starting to thin out. His round, silver spectacles (for these were no ordinary glasses), added character and a deepness to the face. And his wrinkled skin fit in perfectly with his soft, red and black, checkered shirt. All he lacked, to make the picture perfect, was an old shotgun at his side, and a piece of straw in his mouth.
I crossed the street, resisting the urge to turn and stare over my shoulder as I did. He made an awkward turn right in front of the library street entrance, and headed back the other way. There was no doubt he was going to the library. He must have simply decided on another parking place though. I walked through the well known doors and went to the book sale that they hold all year, almost forgetting about the man I'd just seen. I began to skim the books. Next thing I knew, the old man was beside me, standing at the bookshelf right next to mine. I knelt down to look at some books between us. His face was bent the same way. I studied it carefully as I pretended to look at the books. He never looked up. Never noticed me. His spectacles were held in one wrinkled hand, his face was intent on a book in the matching hand. His pants were old and faded. His shoes fit in perfectly with everything else. Old, black, lace up shoes. Then he moved on and, finally, escaped my scrutiny.
Whether I ever see him again or not, I couldn't help but smile as I watched him. I think I can honestly say that he was one of the best things I saw that day. Why? Because, he made writing and reading so real!
Whether you believe me or not doesn't really matter, because I know that I saw Rip Van Winkle in the library! He was generous enough to step out of his book, out of his time, and show up in mine! Not only that, but he likes the library too...so never think twice about going there, you never know who might show up! ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment