The Rejected Writers' Book Club (Southlea Bay) by Suzanne Kelman Read Free Book Online Page A

that I would have to go back in to retrieve it. As I stepped gingerly into the living room, it was a completely different scene. It was Narnia after the snow had melted, Dorothy as she arrived in Oz. It was as if someone had used a Happy-Vac to suck all the happiness back into the room. It reminded me of an ad for plug-in air fresheners that started out all black-and-white with sullen people sitting around. Then some genius had the bright idea to plug in just the right scent, and suddenly, the room erupted into vibrant colors, with everyone dancing the cha-cha around the room, wearing fiesta clothes and flowers in their hair. I must admit there had never been much dancing in my house when I plugged in one of those. Normally we were just glad it had covered up the stink. But back here at Planet Craziness, all that was missing was a sombrero-wearing mariachi band to provide the accompaniment. Everyone was talking at once about how this was all a mistake, and Lottie ran about, topping off teacups and adding cake slabs to plates.
    “It’s the only thing that makes sense!” added Lavinia over the clatter. “Everyone knows your stories stink, Doris!”
    With those words, everyone clapped and cheered. It was during their second whirlwind of tea and cake wedges that I managed to make my exit. Nobody cared or even saw me go.

Chapter Four
    PORK RIBS & GREEN ALIENS
    The days of fall were always pleasant in Southlea Bay, and this year was no exception. Boasting one of the warmest Octobers on record, the long, sun-filled days of October had allowed us to really appreciate the changing colors of the season. Now in their final flourish, the trees outside the library windows were a spectacular sight of gold and burnished red as they stood proud in their autumnal finery.
    Halloween was a big deal in Southlea Bay. You couldn’t even buy a stick of gum for miles around the day before. We stayed open late at the library, served hot cocoa or cider, and placed bowls of candy at our checkout desk. Then, in the evening, we dimmed the lights and illuminated the building with dozens of tea lights in mason jars. It was always a welcome stop for parents on their trick-or-treat routes, a place to get a much-needed warm drink and to catch up with friends and neighbors.
    That morning I was on my knees, shelving in the fiction section and wearing my “Witch Book” costume. A perfect Halloween ensemble, I felt, with its stringy black wig, warty nose, tall crooked hat, and flowing black cloak. The words “Witch Book” were painted in fluorescent-green lettering on my front, and on my back was “What can I help you find today?”
    But what was hanging from my costume caused the children to squeal with delight whenever they entered the library. Dangling from thirty spidery strings were miniature handmade books, all with silly names painted on them, titles such as Falling off a Cliff by Ilene Dover and Very Long Author Names by Bob. During this time of the year, the children made a beeline for me to giggle at all the tiny books as the books swung back and forth from my cloak.
    When two large shoes appeared in front of me, with Doris squished into them, I was pretty nonchalant about it. I hadn’t seen her since I had made the mistake of stumbling into the rejected ladies meeting two weeks before. I scrambled to my feet.
    “Hey there, Doris. Happy Halloweeeeeen.”
    I addressed her with my perfected Halloween greeting, the one that made the kids shriek with glee. No such luck with Doris. Looking at me like I had suddenly sprouted horns, it became quickly obvious she wasn’t here to celebrate the season.
    Removing my warty nose, I started again. “Can I help you with something, Doris? Are you looking for a book?”
    Doris appeared confused, as if that were the last thing she would be doing in a library. “No,” she said curtly. “I was looking for you. Can you stop by the house sometime today? There’s something urgent I need to discuss with