Jekyll And Tied

“Excuse me, Mrs. Carsey, but I was wondering if you’d had a chance to review my request to have the weekend off, and if it’s not too much trouble, if I could slip away a little early tonight.  I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but…”

The Senior Librarian’s unblinking stare was enough to stop Verity in the middle of her sentence.

“I’m sorry, Verity, but I can’t grant you the time off so suddenly.”

“Can’t you cover for me?”

“I could, but I won’t.”

“But that’s not fair!” Verity exclaimed.

“Be that as it may be,” the elderly librarian said, “I expect you to work your assigned shifts.  Now, while I have you in my office, I believe I’ve spoken to you before about your work attire.  As you’re aware, the library has an employee dress code.  Such tight blouses and short skirts as you persist in wearing are a clear violation of it.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Carsey.  I promise I’ll start wearing more appropriate clothing.”  Verity glanced apologetically down at her blouse, missing a few buttons as they had an unfortunate tendency to pop off at unexpected moments.  “But, can’t you find some way to get me that time off, because I really, really, really…”

“I seem to recall you promised me that before,” Mrs. Carsey interrupted, “and yet, nothing about your clothing has changed.”

“I know, but this time, it will.  You see, the problem is finding time to go clothes shopping, which is why I need this weekend off, to buy a new wardrobe and meet that dress code.”

The real reason Verity wanted the weekend off was that she had plans to spend it with her boyfriend, Wally, down at the beach.  She decided, however, on this harmless little fiction.  She felt it sounded better and would more likely sway her boss.  In this, however, she was mistaken.  Mrs. Carsey remembered well enough what it was like to be young and in love.  What she could not accept was anyone thinking she could believe such a transparent lie.

“I’m certain you’ll find plenty of time to go clothes shopping on your days off during the week,” she answered, a bit sterner than she intended.  “Indeed, it would work out better, since you’ll avoid the mad crowds then.”

“But…”

“There is a patron at the front desk awaiting your assistance.”

Verity recognized that statement as a dismissal, and flounced from Mrs. Carsey’s office.

“And straighten your neckerchief!” her supervisor called after her.

Verity ran a hand over the diamond-patterned neckwear all library employees were required to wear.  As she neared the front desk, she absently brushed from her eyes a curly dark-brown tendril that had escaped her casual hair bun.  “Hello, Wally,” she greeted, for the patron was her boyfriend.

“Ready for the big trip this weekend, Very?” he asked.

Verity frowned.  “I’m sorry, Wally, but Mrs. Carsey won’t give me the time off.  We’ll have to go some other time.”

“But the Clam Festival is this weekend!” Wally protested.  “Can’t you just walk off your job?  I thought your great aunt left you a ton of money.”

“Yes, but it’s all tangled up in trusts and things so I only get a little every month,” Verity explained.

“I remember you telling me that,” Wally admitted, “but I’ve got plenty of money for both of us, so…”

“I’m sorry, Wally, but I’m not stopping working,” Verity said.

“But can’t you do, I don’t know, something?”

“I can try talking to her again, but I don’t think it’ll do any good.”

“But we need to get going!” Wally exclaimed.  “You know what a nightmare traffic will become real soon.”

“Yes, Wally, but, look, you’d better go.  If she sees us talking too long, she’ll get suspicious that you’re not a regular patron and I’ll get into trouble.”  She pointed with one arm and raised her voice, hoping it would carry into her boss’s office.  “Yes, over there you’ll find the books about mollusks!”

“The whatsits?” Wally asked, but, catching on, wandered in the direction she pointed.

“I hope that fooled the old cow,” Verity muttered under her breath.

As it happened, Mrs. Carsey wasn’t fooled.  “I do believe that young man is interested in Verity,” she thought, humming happily to herself as she daydreamed about the late Mr. Carsey.

Verity, meanwhile, loaded a cart with books, all the while wondering if something would happen to give her the weekend off.

………………..
Verity closed the thick door of the Classics Room behind her.  Tall wooden bookcases stood against all four walls, with shorter ones in the center.  Comfortable chairs faced circular tables with painted chessboards.  Verity lightly hopped on a footstool to pop a Jane Austen on a topmost shelf.  “Hmm,” she mused, picking up a relatively thin volume from her cart.  “Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevenson’s opium-fueled nightmare.”

She flicked through a few pages, images of 1880’s London filling her head, until a gentle cough interrupted her reveries.  “Excuse me, Miss, but are you certain it’s appropriate to dress in such scanty attire?”

“What?” Verity almost shouted, dropping the book, still open, onto the top of a bookcase.  Standing across from her stood a man who looked about 130 years out of date.  He wore an Ulster coat, down to his ankles, with a short cape.  He also wore a top hat, which he hastily removed.

“Why is it,” Verity seethed, “that everyone keeps trying to get me to put more clothes on?  Honestly, you all should start a club or something.  Incidentally, don’t think I haven’t noticed where you’re keeping your eyes focused.”

“I can assure you Miss,” he said with the poker-iron stiffness Victorians were famous for, “that, as a physician, my concern is wholly for your health.  An unexpected draught against so much exposed skin could easily lead to pneumonia and other diseases of the chest.”  He coughed, embarrassed.

“You must be Dr. Jekyll,” Verity said.  “Oh my God!  I opened the book, so now you’re here!”

“At your service, Miss,” he said with a slight bow.

“Verity LaRouche at yours,” she replied formally.  She had an impulse to lean across the bookcase, just to see how he’d react, but instead she stepped back, discovering to her surprise that she was feeling decidedly uncomfortable.  She shivered, suddenly wishing she had her cardigan handy.

All of a sudden, Dr. Jekyll seemed to have shrunk; his outer coat hung loosely on his frame.  His face appeared altered as well.  In fact, it wasn’t Dr. Jekyll who was now openly leering at her, but….

“Mr. Hyde!”  In movies and plays, Mr. Hyde often looks quite monstrous, but Verity was familiar enough with the book to know that in the original story, the transformation was far less dramatic.  “Where’s Dr. Jekyll?”

Of course, Verity knew perfectly well that Dr. Jekyll had instantly morphed into Mr. Hyde, but she was so surprised that the words slipped out.

“Off playing backgammon, for all I know,” Mr. Hyde growled, seemingly infuriated out of all proportion with the question.  With astonishing speed, he rounded the bookcase, leaving Verity barely enough time to move herself to keep it between them.

“Hey, don’t even think of trying anything funny!” Verity shouted.  “I’ll have you know that I’m an eighteenth degree black belt in, um, you know, assorted martial arts!”

“What the devil are you going on about?” Mr. Hyde demanded.

“Oh, right, you’re probably not familiar with what that is,” Verity said.  “Okay, listen to this.  I recently inherited a vast fortune from my great-aunt, and I can use that money to hire some very tough and ugly customers to make your life… eek!”

Verity darted away, still keeping the bookcase between them.  She wished desperately she had her cellphone with her.  “Wally, I really need some help!” she shouted, hoping that either her boyfriend or somebody would hear her.  The Classics Room had been designed as a quiet retreat for people to read peacefully if they wished.  Still, Verity was wondering why had she closed the door when she’d come in, as the room had been empty anyhow.

Mr. Hyde’s eyes lit up with pleasure.  “Your guardian will pay handsomely for your safe return, once I have you kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped?  That’s the wrong book!” Verity exclaimed.  She wanted to add something about not having a guardian, being a grown woman in the 21st century.  Before she could get the words out, though, Mr. Hyde had sprung forward once again.  Verity felt herself crushed in the arm he coiled around her, his grip as strong as a python’s.  She started to scream, but his hand slapped over her mouth.

“I’ll thank you to keep quiet,” he hissed.

Despite his threat, Verity let off a terrific scream when he moved his hand, which ended abruptly.  Mr. Hyde yanked her neckerchief up and around, slipping the soft material between her teeth.  He released his grip on her to secure the ends together behind her head, which he did in an instant.  Verity darted for the door, but only managed a step before his arms closed around her again.

“Let me go!” Verity pleaded.  The words were soft and slurred, but still quite understandable.  She found she could still speak, but her attempts to scream made little noise.  She struggled in his one arm, beating her fists against his side and stomach, her feet kicking against his legs as he lifted her slightly.

“I need to find some way to keep you still,” Mr. Jekyll decided.

“If you want to tie me up, there’s nothing here you can use!” Verity assured him.

This turned out not to be true.  Despite being against library regulations, a janitor had left a nearly full roll of duct tape (which, in Verity’s observation, they used to fix practically everything) on a lower shelf.  As Verity continued to squirm, Mr. Hyde rolled the tape over her dark stockings, from her ankles to bottom of her knees, and then from the tops of her knees to the hemline of her pinstripe skirt.  There was plenty left for him to wind the rest about her lower torso, constraining her arms against her sides.

“Please let me go!” Verity pleaded.  “You don’t understand how this modern world works, and besides, I made all that up about having a vast fortune.”

“Your slippery use of the truth would raise a blush to the cheek of a Member of Parliament, even,” said Mr. Hyde.  “Or a Congressman, as I suppose you’d say in this country.  For your sake, I hope you were telling me the truth originally, and that this newest statement is a lie.  For if not, I shall make you very sorry, indeed….”

………………..
Verity eyed Mr. Hyde warily, wondering what he planned to do next.  Mr. Hyde himself appeared unsure.  “You’d never get away with carrying me out of the library all bound like this, right in plain sight for everyone to see!” she told him.

“I could, perhaps, use some assistance in this matter,” muttered Mr. Hyde.  “An expert villain with superlative intelligence, such as Professor Moriarity… where would I find him?”

Verity noticed with relief that Mr. Hyde searched for Sherlock Holmes books under the W’s, rather than the D’s.  She leaned forward, brushing several strands of hair against the top of the bookcase.  Her nose turned the pages of Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde as it lay open before her.

She looked up anxiously, but Mr. Hyde still had his back to her, so she swept her head again.  This time her nose touched the cover of the book, but rather than closing, it skidded and fell from the bookcase.

“None of that!”  Mr. Hyde darted forward, alertly placing a finger inside the book as he caught it before it landed on the carpet.  “You won’t try that again!” he promised, gingerly placing the book on the top of one of the high bookcases.  “Now, Miss, where can I find Professor Moriarity?”

“I’ll never tell you!”

“I’m certain I can convince you otherwise!”

Verity never had a chance to learn how he expected to carry out his threat.  The Classics Room door opened.  “Very, are you okay?” Wally asked.  “I heard some noise and… what’s going on?”

“Wally, look out!” Verity screamed.  “It’s Mr. Hyde!  I let him out of his book and he’s really dangerous!”

“What?” Wally asked in disbelief, but he didn’t have long to wonder.  Mr. Hyde slammed the door shut and reached out, spinning Wally about.  “What are you doing?” Wally asked.  “What have you done to Very?”

Mr. Hyde lashed out with one hand.  Unlike Verity, Wally really had had some martial arts training; still, he found Mr. Hyde’s remarkable speed and strength difficult to counter.

Verity called out again, too late, as Mr. Hyde sent her boyfriend staggering backward.  His cellphone flew from his hand, smashing against the wall.  Another blow from Mr. Hyde drove Wally against a chess table.  He flailed his arms, trying to keep his balance before falling over and landing on the comfy chair on the other side.  He bounded back to his feet in an instant, though.

“Wally, don’t fight him, he’s too much for you!” Verity said through her gag.  “Run and get help!”

“I won’t leave you alone with him, Very!” Wally shouted, launching himself at Mr. Hyde.

“I’ve got to do something,” Verity realized, as Mr. Hyde’s muscular arms wrapped themselves around Wally, “but what?”  She looked up.  “Wally, keep him busy!  If I close the book, he’ll disappear!”

She wasn’t sure if Wally or Mr. Hyde heard her, but she bent her knees, managing a series of low hops.  The battle continued as she slowly moved across the room.  “You’d think somebody would hear the noise and come investigate,” she thought, but the door remained closed.  She shook her head, willing herself to continue.  “Now comes the hard part!”  Taking a deep breath, she bent her knees as low as she could and, summoning all her energy, leapt high into the air.  She nearly lost her balance when she landed on top of the footstool, but alertly leaned sideways, steadying herself against the shelves.

She twisted her body, pressing her forehead onto the pages of Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  She drew back slowly, holding her breath as the book slid forward.  The pages fluttered like a fan as the volume bumped soundlessly onto the floor.

Still open.

“Oh, come on, this is so unfair!” she screamed, as Mr. Hyde sent Wally tumbling across another table.  Verity winced with concern for Wally as he got up very slowly this time.  Mr. Hyde, his face a twisted mask of feral rage, jumped towards him.

Verity hopped from the footstool and looked hopelessly at the open pages, as if they were mocking her.  She leant against the bookcase, lowering herself until her knees touched the soft carpet.

Mr. Hyde was breathing heavily as he drew back a fist.  Wally was too stunned even to raise a hand to defend himself.  His eyes lit up, though, as he saw Verity.  Mr. Hyde noticed his reaction, and turned his head.  “NO!” he screamed.

Verity now lay on the floor.  The carpet was not nearly as slippery as the surface of the bookcase, so the thin volume remained in place as Verity nudged her nose against the cover.  Mr. Hyde dived for the book, his outstretched fingers reaching before it closed.  He sneered at Verity as he slapped his palm on the page.

“It’s staying open!” he roared.

Verity shook her head.  She had come so close to sending Mr. Hyde back to his world!

“You’ll never send me back to the pages of that book!” Mr. Hyde said with a gleeful cackle.

“Yes, we will!” Wally shouted.  Somehow, he had returned to his feet. He yanked Mr. Hyde’s arm away.  “Quick, Verity!”

The villain twisted loose in an instant.  Verity acted even more quickly, though.  She turned her neck, pushing the cover with her nose, managing to rotate it considerably farther this time.  As she did, Mr. Hyde’s hand came down.  Instead of the pages, he reached the outside of the cover, slamming the book shut.

His scream of defeat lasted less than a second before he disappeared.

………………..
“Verity!  Are you okay?” Wally asked, helping her stand despite the tape around her.

“Yes, Wally, I’m fine,” she said into her gag.  “What about you?  That was quite a pounding you took!”

“Ah, I’m okay,” he said with forced lightness.  “I’ve had worse in my sparring sessions.  Hey, how did he get out of that book in this first place?”

“It’s my overactive imagination,” Verity explained, “that brings the characters I read about to life.  It was that sort of thing that convinced me to become a librarian.”

Wally didn’t really understand, but he nodded his head as if he did.  “I’d better get you untied.”

“You mean un-taped,” Verity corrected him.  “You’ve only one knot to untie.”

“I’ll start with that, then,” Wally decided.  He pulled, but instead of the neckerchief coming loose, he freed the black ribbon circling what was left of Verity’s hair bun.  Her abundant tresses tumbled loose onto her shoulders and back.

“Wally, never mind about loosening my hair!  Ge me loose!” she fumed.

Wally’s expression suddenly changed.  He made a dramatic show of checking his wristwatch.  “Well, the problem is that all that looks like a long job, and we need to hurry, if we want to beat the traffic and get to the beach on time for the Clam Festival.”

Verity’s eyes flashed dangerously.  “Wally, we’ve already discussed this.  As much as I’d like to go with you, I’m working this weekend.”

“No, you’re not,” Wally corrected her, “you’re coming with me to the festival.”

“No, Wally, Mrs. Carsey won’t give me the time off, and if I walk off the job, I’ll… look, Wally, will you please untie this gag?  It’ll be a lot easier for me to talk that way.”

“There’s no time,” Wally decided.  Verity continued protesting as he scooped her into his arms.  “We have to leave right away!”

“Wally, put me down!” she fumed.  “And untie my gag!  It’ll only take a second!”

“We don’t even have a second to spare!”  Wally raised a knee to support Verity’s legs as he turned the doorknob.  He strode out from the Classics Room into the main library area.  He carried her over to the main desk and the senior librarian.  “I’m taking Verity out for the weekend, Mrs. Carsey,” he explained.  “I’ll have her back Monday, though.”

“No you won’t!  Put me down!” Verity protested.  “Mrs. Carsey, I’m really sorry about this, but…”

Mrs. Carsey loudly sighed.  “How romantic!” she exclaimed, remembering her first date with the late Mr. Carsey.  “Of course, have a nice time.  I’ll be glad to work your shift, Verity.”

“See, I told you it would be okay,” Wally told Verity, who had suddenly gone quiet.  He seated her in the passenger’s seat of his luxury sports car and revved the engine.

Verity didn’t say anything even after Wally reached over and smoothly pulled the neckerchief from her mouth.  “Well,” she finally said, “I hope I don’t have to go through something like this every time I need a few days off.”