Almost Subversive Tales Who: Benny and Dermott What: School Preparations When: Wednesday Morning, 01/02/13 Where: Duskwood Public Library Warning: NA
Benny was back in the stacks, which was where he preferred to spend the mornings unless there was a children’s program going on. One of the girls was waiting the main desk and another one was in the children’s section so he could simply take the cart, his cup of coffee and get around to putting books up, rearranging the shelves, making sure everything was arranged properly. There seemed to just be something about people that made it impossible for them to understand and follow the Dewey Decimal system. It wasn’t that complex. Sure, it might take a little time, and it could be rough going at first, but sticking with something was the only way to really get it down. More often than not it seemed to be adults who were making the biggest mess of things. The children were always very careful as though they were afraid they’d get yelled at if they put a book down somewhere it wasn’t supposed to go whereas adults thought nothing of leaving a trashy romance novel mixed in with texts on botany. Not the same thing.
Benny growled a little as he pulled the offending books off the shelves and stacked them neatly on the cart. Sometimes he thought that old biddies did it on purpose just so he would stop asking them to check the smut out rather than reading it at the library one slow chapter at a time. Turned on elderly woman was the last thing he wanted to smell for hours at a time. “I’m back here, Dermott,” he called to his friend the moment that he scented the other man. “Just putting things away all tidy like.”
Dermott was enjoying his last few days of freedom. He’d already prepped his first couple of weeks of classes, not wanting to give himself any extra work than he’d likely have with new classes. Wanting - but not needing - an excuse to see Dermott, he’d brought his class reading list. It wasn’t necessary, but it helped the librarians to know what books the local high schoolers would be asking for, which they needed to order extra copies of. Clutching the list in one hand, he ducked through the stacks, heading for Benny’s voice. “Skiving, more like,” he teased, a bright, sunny smile on his face. “How’ye, Benny?” He leant against the shelf beside Benny’s cart, arms folded across his chest, sunglasses hooked in the v of his tshirt. He was dressed a lot more casually than he would be, once school started up again.
"They're mixing 50 Shades of Grey in with Faulkner and Auden again, how do you think I am?" he asked, glancing over at the other man, though he was smiling to show that it wasn't quite as bad as he made it out to be. Benny was dressed as eclectically as ever. The button down white shirt, old pocket watch and striped vest looking strange when compared to the leather pants and leather cuff bracelets.
Cracking his knuckles, he set down the stack of books he had been holding to clap a hand on Dermott's shoulder. His voice was quiet as was befitting a librarian. These days he preferred a life of not having to yell all the time. "Are you here to prepare me for the worst? Don't tell me they're planning to do The Whiz as the spring musical. I won't be able to take it." The chuckle was soft as he drew his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. "How are you? How's Becky?" Oh, he wasn't as stupid as half the town who thought the two were involved, but they were close so he always asked after her just the same.
Dermott grinned, ducking his head as a quiet pang of longing shot through him. He had it mostly under control by now, but there were times that he forgot Benny was straight. Forgot that he shouldn’t be thinking about him as anything more than a friend. When he was wearing leather trousers...yeah that was definitely one of those times. “Ach, not bad,” he said softly. “Enjoying my freedom before the madhouse starts up again.” He laughed softly. “And she’s grand. Sleep-deprived, missin’ Kyle something fierce, but she’s surviving. Doing a sight better than I’d be, in the same situation.”
There were a lot of things about people that Benny didn't know, and there was a lot of information that he didn't go looking for or even asking about. It was not his place, and the double edged sword of letting people in always seemed like it would cut too deeply into him and all the things that he barely managed to control so he didn't pry, either. For all of that, though, the wolf knew things that he shouldn't know, didn't want to know. Unless they proved dangerous, Benny ignored them. It was better that way, and it had not harmed anyone thus far.
"You wouldn't know what to do without those children," he said, the smile still on his face. "Madness or not." The information about Becky made him nod slowly. He felt badly for the young woman and her child. It was difficult to have a spouse so far away, to not know whether they were alright or when you would see them again. The details were different, but the motion itself he could empathize with. "Don't sell yourself short, Dermott. People are often stronger than they give themselves credit for."
Dermott tilted his head to the side, still smiling. “Sure I would. Teach college students.” Which, yes, wasn’t actually much better. At least - most of the time - his students didn’t have hangovers. He was perfectly happy with how things were. Much as he griped, his kids were mostly well-behaved, and he loved his job. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else, now. Certainly he couldn’t imagine himself as a priest. He wondered if that had ever been the right choice, if he’d ever have made a good man of the cloth. He waved a hand dismissively at Benny’s comment about him selling himself short, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “Me and kids don’t get along. Not until they can talk, at least,” he admitted. “I’m more than happy being an uncle, spoiling them rotten from a distance. And handing Becky’s little one back when he gets too squirmy.”
Dermott's answer made Benny chuckle, a soft, low sound and shake his head a little. As much as he would hate to see the man ever leave, a small part of him couldn't help but wonder whether Dermott would be happier somewhere else. A medium sized, liberal, progressive college for instance where he could be whatever he wanted to be without people whispering so much behind his back. Their small, somewhat sleepy, judgmental little town could be bad about the whispers and the sideways looks. He got more than enough of them himself to know what people were like, how they loved to talk. "I think I'll have to call your bluff on that one."
Talk of being an uncle reminded him that he needed to call his sister and see if his niece had liked the Christmas presents that he sent, but he stayed quiet and shrugged. "Some things aren't for everyone." He ran his fingers over the spines of the books on the cart. As far as he was concerned, he'd just stick with being the slightly strange librarian who read to the wee ones and helped the teenagers with their music and their plays. That was easier than having one of his own to screw up because they always broke somewhere, didn't they?
“And yourself?” Dermott asked, tilted his head curiously. Getting Benny to talk about himself was like drawing blood from a stone sometimes, but he tended to get more of his friend when it was impromptu questions, when it came naturally as part of the conversation. “If you weren’t being the quirky librarian with quite the following of fans...” he nodded past Dermott, to where there was a table of teen girls, two of them leaning out of their seats to see Benny’s ass in those leather pants. He couldn’t blame them. “What would you be doing?” He turned his attention back to his friend, smiling.
He knew the girls were there without Dermott calling attention to them. The giggling, hushed whispers and the scent made it impossible not to notice them even though he was pretty good at ignoring that sort of thing after years of practice. Sometimes it seemed like too much of his life had been spent on learning to sift through and ignore stimuli, but it had been worth it. Shooting Dermott a look that was full of fond annoyance, he shrugged. "'The man that hath no music in himself/Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,/Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils,'" he quoted with a smile. It wasn't really an answer.
"I wouldn't. I've been out there in thick of it all, and I didn't enjoy it." That was closer to an answer. As close as Dermott was likely to get at the moment.
When Benny started quoting Shakespeare, it was time to back off. Dermott had learnt that by now. So, Benny liked music, but didn’t want to be a musician. Or had, and didn’t like it. It was just another piece of the puzzle that made up his friend. He wasn’t an easy person to get to know, but Dermott was persevering, and not just because Benny was easy on the eye.
“Oh, while I remember,” he said, digging a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “Here. Reading list for my class. Fairly similar to last year’s, as far as I can tell. I tried to keep it simple for you poor overworked librarians.” Ooh, the sarcasm. It burned. And considering he’d spent the holidays relaxing, reading, and spending time with Becky and her family, he couldn’t exactly suggest he had a hard life. Not until it got towards exam time, at least.
Maybe he was being a bit harsh about things, but the old life and the new life were different sorts altogether. Once people in the new life found out about the old, things might change forever. Plus Benny didn't really want to relive all of that again. It was still too fresh as it was sometimes.
The comment got another grin out of him as he accepted the sheet of paper and smoothed it out, glancing over the contents. "What? You haven't craved to the mass collective and added Twilight or The Vampire Diaries? For shame, Dermott. I'm afraid it's another semester of being uncool for you," he teased. "I still think you should add some Sherman Alexie or even a bit of Grant Morrison. The Invisibles might be a graphic novel, but it has some very powerful themes about politics and society." Which was probably why the school board wouldn't approve those sorts of books.
Dermott snorted. “That’d go down well. Next you’ll be suggesting I start teaching Frank Miller’s oevre. I like my job, thanks, I don’t want to lose it.” It was bad enough trying to change anything on the curriculum. Trying to add in anything slightly controversial or subversive...no way. He was just glad they weren’t teaching sodding Creationism. He didn’t fancy that at all. “What time’r you finishing tonight?” He asked Benny, wondering if he could convince him to socialise a little. He had fuck all else to do tonight, after all.
Benny arched an eyebrow at the Frank Miller comment. "Well, now that you mention it," he started before cutting himself off with a laugh and a shake of his head. There were a number of times when he pitied the children of the town, though he did his best to bring in as much alternative culture as he could without being blatantly labelled subversive. It helped that he was quiet about it, he supposed, and could also back up the selection of graphic novels with the various awards they and their authors had won though that didn't save him from getting pinched faced looks from older gentleman. Of course they'd never say anything because Benny could easily provide their search histories. Why no one over the age of forty could figure out how to clear browser data was beyond him. "Hopefully we can eventually persuade them into being a bit more open to fewer dead, white guys."
"That depends entirely on what you're proposing," he said, a bit of a question in his voice. Benny always stayed from opening until at least closing, but if there was something Dermott had in mind he wouldn't necessarily decide to stay after and work on programs and the like.
“Oh there’s some alive white guys on the list this year,” Dermott pointed out wryly. “No women, though. Or people of colour. There’s only so much I can do.” And God forbid they teach anything remotely alternative or ‘subversive’. He shrugged, sighing softly. He’d given up trying to push too much. Didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He knew there were rumors about him and Becky, they were bad enough. He didn’t want the gossip to get any worse. To get even an inkling of the real reason he wasn’t settling down with a wife.
“Coffee?” He asked. “No open mic night tonight, but I think Mara’s cooked up a batch of her butterbean and lentil soup.” It was a hell of a lot better than going home to his empty house, and drinking until he passed out.
That made him sigh and shake his head, running a hand through his short hair as he did so. Not that he meant any offense to dead white guys because they were brilliant, but there were other things out there. "Maybe one day. Oh well. There's only so much you can do," he said, patting Dermott's shoulder reassuringly. "Keep fighting the good fight in all the ways possible, huh?" As he planned to continue to do from his end. "We'll get you a female or ethnic author yet."
Open mic was his siren call, but he still loved the coffeehouse. "There's some sort of meat in that, right?" Benny was mostly in control of the wolf, but it had demands. Meat was pretty high up on that list, which didn't bother him all that much to be honest. "Ham at least I would think."
Dermott laughed. “I have no idea. If you’re wanting meat, there’s always Asylum. Food’s not bad there. And they’ve got a great selection of whiskeys.” Not as good as the bars back home, of course, but it was better than nothing. And being an openly Spook-friendly hangout, Benny might be more comfortable. Or at least, potentially more likely to meet someone who might accept him. Much as Dermott liked spending time with Benny, he wanted his friend to be happy. And if he knew how to make that happen, he would have done it by now.
Benny was quite content all on his lonesome. There had been a time when he'd chased happy down and tried to catch it, but it kept outdistancing himself. In the end, it hadn't been worth it. Content was good enough for him. He hadn't been in Asylum much. All the stimuli around him all the time could get a little bit precarious, but every once in awhile it wasn't so bad. Plus he knew that Dermott liked to have a drink or two, which he could not get at the coffee shop.
Shrugging, he said, "Either sounds fine. Want to stop by once I close up so we can head to one or the other or shall I meet you there? Bring Becky if she wants to come along. I've not seen her in a bit." It was not meant to suggest that he in any way did not wish to spend time with just Dermott, but he knew that sometimes Becky got more than a little blue. He could smell it. He'd been around enough types of people to be able to discern just about everything by now.
“I’ll give her a call, see if she fancies it,” Dermott agreed. He was pretty sure she’d mentioned something about a skype date with her husband, but it didn’t hurt to ask. And it’d do her good to get her out the house, after all. “I’ll let you get back to it just now, shall I?” Grinning, he gestured to the cart of books. “Wouldn’t want to distract you too much, make you mis-file something.” Squeezing Benny’s shoulder, he turned. “I’ll send you a text, let you know where Becky and I end up,” he said, as he started to walk away.
Benny agreed. It would do Becky a world of good to get out of the house if she could. To be honest, it would likely do Dermott and Benny himself a world of good as well, but he wasn't about to admit to that, especially out loud. "Woe betide my fate if the council of librarians discovers that any of the books are amiss. They will fall on me like a pack of demons and rip me asunder," he answered with a good natured wink.
"Just let me know, Dermott. If I've not heard from you before I leave, I'll call. Don't worry about your list. I'll make sure we have plenty of copies to go around if the children decide to read them. Also I'll hide all the Sparknotes and block Wikipedia." He could be nefarious when he wanted to be.