Better to Live a Little than Not at All

Amalia liked to spend time in the library. Almost every afternoon after school you could find her making the short journey across town to the local public library and on the weekends you could find her tucked away between the stacks. Books were always Amalia’s refuge.

Which made the next series of events rather intriguing.

Amalia often wondered why she lived such a dismal and bleak life when there were so many worlds and adventures to explore just pages away. Resigned to the fact that this is the hand that life dealt her Amalia started her morning.

Amalia was finishing her senior year of high school. She did not really have friends, and her parents were often absent from the house. This may be why Amalia preferred pages in books and fantasy worlds than real life, but that might be introspection for another day.

It wasn’t until the last bell of the day rang that a smile graced her face and she allowed herself to be pulled from her daydreaming in order to start her normal route to the library.

Amalia’s mother had shown her the library when she was a little girl. It was perhaps the only gift her mother had ever given her. The library wasn’t grand or regal. It was a tiny beige building not well used with plenty of books, but most of the people who came in really just wanted to use the computers.

On this day, like many others, Amalia simply picked a book and started reading. To her it felt like no time at all had passed but as the sun started to dip Ms. Carson laid a hand on her shoulder. Ms. Carson had run the library for years, and as Amalia grew up they had built a system together of being in the library together almost every day.

Leaving her chosen book out to take to the front and have checked out to her, Amalia gathered her things. On the way up to the front desk she assisted with straightening some errant books on shelves as always, as she did she noticed a lonely little black notebook lying under a shelf.

Setting her things on the floor Amalia laid on her stomach to grab the book. As she opened it, she realized that it was not a book but a journal, and not one of the library’s but a personal journal.

As she felt the smooth texture of the outer cover of the notebook Amalia gathered up her belongings and started for the front again.

“Ms. Carson? Do you know who this might belong to? I found it under one of the shelves but it doesn’t seem to be a library book. “

“Let’s have a look. Oh! I believe that is probably Mr. Dorian’s. He orders some rare books every so often and rather than have them delivered to the post office we place the order and they arrive here. When they’re ready for pick-up he stops by. He recently came in.”

“Old Man Dorian up Forest Road?”

Nathan Dorian was something of a notorious legend in town. Nobody knew the exact truth but most people said that he actually grew up in town as a child but at a young age his parents had died in a mysterious accident unsolved to this day. After being adopted and moving away, he came back years later as an adult with a fortune large enough to buy the entire town three time over…and no explanation for how he got it.

So, Mr. Dorian walks around an old estate just on the edge of town and rarely talks to anyone.

Because that’s not creepy.

“That’s right. I know you kids like to say all these things about how it went but he really is sweet,” Ms. Carson flipped through some papers on her desk, glasses sliding down her nose and an absent-minded hand pushing them back up. ‘and not coming back to pick up another order for a while. Do you think you could take the journal up to the estate and drop it off? I’d hate for it to be something important.”

Did she just ask that?

“Sorry what?”

“I know it’s not really the direction you go, but I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

Appreciate it…like a serial killer appreciates a random victim walking into their home?

“I would do it myself but I have an eye appointment. I tell ya kid, enjoy your youth while you can. The older you get the more you fall apart. I swear I just got these glasses and already I can’t see a thing in them.”

Right. So, go to the possible murder house to return a notebook or send in Ms. Carson the blind librarian to possibly be murdered?

“It’s no problem at all. Happy to help. I’ll stop by my house to drop off my things and grab the keys to the car and just drive up.”

“Wonderful! Let’s finish getting this book checked out for you and you can be on your way!” Ms. Carson smiled bright and excited like checking out Amalia’s book of the day and then sending her off with Mr. Dorians notebook was the highlight of the day. Which it quite possibly could be with how empty it was in the building.

Feeling quite insane Amalia quickly went home and got ready to take a notebook to Old Man Dorian. It was starting to get dark but now that she had committed and would be taking the car Amalia wasn’t as concerned with the dark. After she had dropped off her school supplies and written a short note to her parents about taking the car Amalia headed for Forest road.

The notebook was set on the passenger seat beside her and as she pulled up to the estate, she felt butterflies in her stomach. In all honesty she knew that more than likely all of the rumors floating around Mr. Dorian were false and he was harmless, and it was the unknown more than anything else. She herself had several cruel rumors floating around her at school from her schoolmates because she didn’t fit in.

It was that last thought more than anything else that got her out of the car, notebook held tight, and headed to the front door. Who was she to judge someone she did not know? Nonetheless the notebook was his and she would be brave like the characters she read about.

She stepped up and knocked on the door.

It was a tense few moments that could have been seconds or minutes for how tightly she held herself. Eventually a soft click sounded from the door and it swung inwards to reveal a man. He did not stand out in any particular way but had a firm voice.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Mr. Dorian?”

“My Dear if you came all this way for the owner of the household, I would certainly hope that they would actually be there in that home.” He had an eyebrow raised as if to contest his point.

“Yes sir. I only meant to verify, as I think I found something that belongs to you.” As Amalia pulled the notebook from her side it seemed to grab his attention and his face, which was previously indifferent seemed to smile.

“Where on earth did you find this?” As he reached out to take the notebook Amalia made sure to handle it carefully as it seemed to matter a great deal to him.

“I found it under a shelf in the library.”

“Ah. Now I see. You’re that girl I see there every so often.”

Did he? Amalia never recalled seeing him before. Honestly if she crossed him on the street, she would not have been able to identify him by name.

A smile spread on his face, “Ha! Your face! You look more bewildered than a cat with its head stuck in a cup of water.” The smile flickered a little but the crinkled around his eyes stayed and he seemed content, ‘You always have your head in a book. More interested in pages than the life going on around you.”

“Books are more interesting. Life is boring and often disappointing. And don’t you come to the library to special order rare books?”

Rude. And hypocritical if you asked her.

“What a sad outlook at such a young age. Books are meant to inspire, to help learn, to assist in life’s journey. Not to be lived in place of. Tell me; if you have the urge to travel will you just read a travel book, when you feel lonely a romance, when you want an adventure an action? Why not let these books inspire you? Read a travel book and pick your favorite place, save up and go there. Perhaps you will fall in love. Perhaps you will get your heart broken. This is all part of life.”

His expression was stern, like he was trying his best to impart wisdom. Amalia understood what he was saying she just didn’t understand why. So, she said nothing.

“You would be correct that I order rare books. Some of them are my passion, things I learn because I love the subject so much. Others because I admire them. And others yet just because they intrigue me. But I do not hide from the world, and I have lived a long and full life.”

“But it is late and you should be getting home.” With that he turned and walked back into his home, closing the door softly behind him.

With a befuddled expression Amalia walked back to her car. Thinking deeply about living life and hiding in pages. Books had more than enough in them, she didn’t need to go galivanting off on some adventure. Around and around her thoughts went. All the way home and through the night.

The next morning was no different.

Except in all the ways it was. When she got downstairs her parents were still there and a small express package laid between them.

“Good morning Amalia.” Her mother greeted her almost as if they had talked to each other more frequently than once a week. Her father did not glance up from his phone.

“Morning.”

“Package came for you. Had to be signed for.”

Amalia tried to recall anything she might have ordered but came up blank so pulled the package to her and started to open it. Inside on top was an envelope.

Dear Amalia,

I hope you venture out into the world. But I know it can be a scary place. There is plenty of bad and if you try that is all you will see, but there is also an abundance of goodness in the world as well. Perhaps this will give you an idea on where to start. Our good Ms. Carson informs me you are graduating soon.

Happy graduation and Use it Well,

N.D.

Reading the letter provided little context other than that Ms. Carson and Mr. Dorian seemed to be acquainted, so for now she put the letter aside and reached for the package under it. Peeling off the last bit of paper revealed a book. As she looked closer she smiled because it was a travel destination book. Amalia picked up the book and slowly started to flip through when she noticed a small piece of paper towards the middle.

To get you started. Have an adventure. Live a life. Write your own Journey.

Tucked inside was a check. And Amalia felt her brain pull to a stop at the $20,000 sum shown.

“What did you get dear?” Her mother was refilling her coffee cup and putting her jewelry on simultaneously.

“Oh, just a travel book.” Amalia’s voice was half-hearted. Her thoughts miles away. Did she keep the money, return it?

“That’s nice dear.”

“Yeah, yeah it is. I think I’ll go upstairs and read it.”

Afterall she had an adventure to plan.