The Stacks III

Silently, Gonga stood to his feet, listening as the hoodlum crept down the aisle between the books. He was on the third floor of the stacks, in the inner part of the library surrounded by cages. He knew he had heard that sound before; the sound of the safety on a Ruger clicking off.

Gonga crept along the stack of books, tracking the sound of footsteps.

“Hey pal,” he heard someone say, “know where I can take out a loan?”

The voice sounded friendly enough.

“What?” a sleepy sounding voice responded. A sharp intake of breath followed.

“Yeah dude, I really need to get another student loan. Something came up, and I need some cash,” the friendly voice continued. “Got any idea who I can talk to? Maybe you can help me.”

Gonga slid down to the floor and poked his head around the base of the stack, knowing that people would be less likely to look to the floor to catch someone spying on them.

A figure stood silhouetted from the neck down against the light of the cage. The plastic shower curtain on this cage was folded back just far enough to leave his head in complete shadow.

“I-I don’t know,” the grad student stammered.

“Oh, you can help me,” the figure said, “I know you can.” He spoke confidently.

Gonga noticed his elbow twitch slightly as he gestured with his outstretched arm.

“O-okay,” the student reached toward his backpack.

“No rush,” the figure added.

Gonga stood to his feet quickly. This had to stop. In two quick steps he was around the stack of books and flying through the air towards the attacker’s knees. The silhouette went down like a rag doll under the onslaught of 200 pounds of gorilla.

In a second, he had halfway twisted around, but Gonga’s fist connected with his jaw, knocking him unconscious. The gun clattered to the floor. It failed to fire.
Gonga swept the gun into his hand and clicked the safety on.

The student sat frozen, his hand halfway into his backpack.

“Do you have a phone?” Gonga asked. He shoved the pistol into an unoccupied locked cage two doors down. “Call the police.”

With that, he turned and slipped out of the library.

There. Mission accomplished! He smiled to himself.

Now maybe he could think about Spring Break.