Wonder Which Saint (Joan) (Open) (INACTIVE)

[eastsidesunset]

I shrugged, then said thoughtfully, "Library's always open. They don't even mind if you don't have a card... well, there is this one librarian that's never real helpful but I don't think she's there today." I remembered how much she disliked me, partly because I always stuck out like a sore thumb in the groups of quiet, nicely-dressed people in the rows of books. I think she liked everyone to look the same; act like they looked like they should act. I was a bit of an anomaly and it irritated her. That much didn't take a lot of brains to figure out.

The rain was thickening fast and I stood up, picking my plastic bags up too. I looked at the girl, hesitated a split second, then asked, "Do you know where it is? If you want, I could go with you. It's not far and I'd been meaning to get a book anyway." I smiled, then added, "Sorry, I don't even know your name yet. I'm Ponyboy. Yeah, it's my real name." She probably wouldn't believe me but I didn't feel like coming up with a nickname on the spot. I laughed a little, then joked, "But you can call me Joe or Tom if you feel like it."

I wasn't sure why, but despite the rain and the bags that only got heavier, I was in a real good mood.

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan smiled and s tood up. Snatching up her cup, she stepped up beside Ponyboy. Grinning, she held out her hand. "I'm Joan. Ponyboy huh? Wow. And no, I don't know where it is. That'd be great if you could show me." Tucking her mug under her arm, she held out her hand again. "I could carry those for you if you want. I'm stronger than I look," she added quickly. Months of being outside in all sorts of weather had made her even scrawnier than she already was. Trying not to shiver, she waited for his response.

The library sounded like a great idea to her. Maybe she could even find somewhere to hide and spend the night. Joan didn't like doing that, but she'd rather risk getting caught than spend another night outside freezing. 'Of course the logical solution would be to go to a homeless shelter.' Joan shook her head at the thought. That would never work. They wanted all kinds of information at those places, information Joan wasn't about to give. She couldn't betray her Voices by getting caught. She had to stay out of reach until they told her it was time to begin her mission. If that meant hiding out in a library,then so be it.

"Are you ready?" Joan glanced up at him as she spoke.

[eastsidesunset]

Somehow, I managed to shake her hand and hold on to all the stuff at the same time. Not an easy feat. Grinning, I shrugged with one shoulder at her reaction to my name and didn't say anything. Was there another "Ponyboy" out there somewhere? I guess there was about the same chance of that as there was another "Sodapop".

When she offered to carry my bags for me, I shook my head quickly, slightly embarrassed. She looked about three inches shorter than me and little more than skin and bones. Even if she was "stronger than she looked", I couldn't possibly let her carry my stuff for me. It would be... wrong. I couldn't explain it better than that. "No, it's fine. I've got it," I muttered. She was shivering, I noticed. Good thing the library was only a couple blocks away.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go. That way." I started half-running across the street after making sure she was catching up. Ducking my head against the rain, I made my way down the street and towards the building I was only too familiar with. The library. I could spend forever in there if I had to. Just living the rest of my life out, buried to my neck with books. It would be enough, I thought.

For a while we walked in silence. It was a comfortable silence though-- Kinda like how it was like almost all the time with Johnny.

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan smiled at him. He was nice, she decided, in spite of his odd name. She tagged along behind him, slipping into the library. She tried not to shiver as the blast of warm air swept over her. Running her hands through her damp hair, she looked around. Libraries never had been her favorite places, what with her near illiteracy, but for now she was grateful for anywhere warm. She followed Ponyboy to a table. Pulling out a chair, she sat down.

A stack of magazines caught her eye and she picked one up. Flipping it open, she began to read, mouthing the words to herself as she ran her fingers underneath the print. After a few minutes she gave up. The words meant nothing to her. biting back a growl, she focused on the pictures. So many nice things.

Joan stroked the jewelry with a fingertip. Though she was fond of her cross, she liked looking at the earrings. 'Wouldn't ever have the guts to do it myself,' but looking at the pictures passed the time. And kept her awake. The warmth made her drowsy and she wanted nothing so much as to put her head on the table and sleep.

Glancing up at Ponyboy, she asked, "You like libraries? You like to read?"

[eastsidesunset]

The warm, familiar quiet hum of the library brought a small smile on my face as I shook the water out of my hair. The place always had the same smell to it, an unique combination of mildew, dust, paper and bone-dry wood. No matter who was there or what day it was, the scent stayed constant. Weird as it probably was, that was one of the reasons I loved the library.

A small fireplace covered by a sheet of glass and a metal guard sat in the corner of the kids' section as it always did. I still remembered when I was a kid, years before my parents died, the way I would sit in my favourite bean bag right next to the crackling fire for hours on end, surrounded by piles of everything from Nancy Drew to Eragon and just spending a whole Saturday that way. When someone came to pick me up I'd be in a kind of daze for a long while even after leaving the library, still lost in the stories. The guys used to joke about that a lot.

Wrenching myself back to reality, I watched Joan sit down and attempt to read a magazine from a nearby rack. I barely ever touched the magazine section-- To me, the melodramatic lives of celebrities and what they wore was as interesting as a brick next to the alternate universes of thick paperbacks. But I knew a lot of people liked magazines. Even people like Two-Bit who didn't enjoy reading at all. Of course, Two-Bit only liked them for the pictures... which were never the cleanest either if you know what I mean.

Still, if you couldn't read, I guess looking at pictures in magazines was better than nothing. It made me kinda sad, though, looking at Joan. Maybe she'd love books as much as me if she just knew how to read them.

I wandered over to the fiction section, picking a book at random, then walked back over to the table Joan was sitting at and pulled up a chair across from her.

"You like libraries? You like to read?" she was asking.

"Yeah, I do. Like both, I mean. A lot," I answered absentmindedly, propping an arm on the table and leaning my head against one hand. "Spent tons of time here as a kid. Either here or the track field."

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan smiled. Ponyboy had a gentleness about him that put her at ease. Her smile drooped at his reference to libraries. Clearly he loved to read. She ducked her head, studying her hands. She seemed on the verge of making her first real friend--but what would he say if he knew she couldn't read? what would he say if he knew about her Voices? Most people dismissed them out of hand, or assumed she was crazy. But she wasn't. Her Voices were real. And they were good.

With a start, Joan realized she'd done it again. Drifted into her own little world. It was a habit she'd developed when she got nervous or frightened. Casting her mind about for something to say, Joan studied the book in Ponyboy's hands, trying to decipher the title. The effort made her eyes ache and she quickly stopped. "What are you reading?" She remembered he'd mentioned something about a track field. "So you like to run? Are you good?"

[eastsidesunset]

I noticed her staring intently at the cover of the book I was holding, and I frowned a little, wondering what was wrong with it. I glanced at it, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. There was a picture of dominos and a hand starting to tap down the first one. Kinda interesting, but not as strange as some of the other covers I'd seen... Then I remembered the way she looked at the words in the jewellery magazine and I nearly hit myself for missing something so glaringly obvious. Of course. She was just trying to read the title. I shook my head inwardly and cursed my slowness.

"What are you reading?"

"Uhh, The Book Thief by, um, Mark Zusak," I muttered, then continued, "Now that I think about it I remember someone saying something about it. Something about Germany in WW2." I flipped quickly through the pages a couple times, wondering what to say. A thought was swirling inside my head, quickly forming into an idea that I didn't really like. But... maybe... I ran a thumb across the smooth cover of the paperback and the feel of the laminated paper was what decided it. No one should miss out on the freedom of a good story.

"You know... I could try and teach you. To read, I mean. If you wanted," I blurted out, staring at the book. "I'm not claiming to be a teacher or anything even close to it but I could try. Like I said, I'm here half the time anyway, so we could set up days..." Smart move or not, I had said it. Now all that was left was for Joan to decide.

"So you like to run? Are you good?"

I nodded in response to the first question. "Yeah, I like running. And I do track meets and stuff if that's what you're talking about. Won a few, lost a few..." I shrugged. "Running just kinda comes naturally to me."

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan found herself nodding. "Yes. that would be great!" She wasn't sure why she thought he could help her, when none of her teachers had been able to but....maybe this time it would be different. Anyway, it couldn't hurt to try, right?

She needed to be able to read. And, it would give her an excuse to come into the library and get warm. Maybe if she learned how to read, she could find a job...get off the streets...She shook her head, forcing her mind back to the present.

"I..." Joan stopped in mid sentence. She didn't really have anything that came naturally to her, except talking to her Saints of course, and she didn't really want to tell him about that. No sense in scaring off her first real friend. He would just think she was crazy, like everyone else did, and then he might not want to help her. And she couldn't have that. "Never mind." She ducked her head again and studied her hands.

"So when do you want to start? I could pay you. I have money. Sort of. A little. I do ok." She let the sentence fade. Who was she kidding? She was a homeless beggar who could barely afford to feed herself, let alone pay someone to teach her to read. But she had to do something.

“I sit outside that grocery store a lot. I could run errands for you, get what you need. If you give me a list…um…once I..once I learn how to read it I could help or…or something.” Her cheeks grew hot. Joan cringed inwardly. I sound like a complete idiot, she though.

He had offered to help, so maybe he was willing to do it out of the goodness of his heart. But still, she felt like she ought to offer to do something. “I can sew. If you, you know, need stuff mended or buttons sewed back on I know how to do it. I’m good, too.” So maybe she did have a natural gift for something after all.

[eastsidesunset]

I grinned as she accepted the offer. Real enthusiastic about it, too. That was good. It was early to hope, but maybe this really would work out. Me, trying to be a teacher, I thought, smirking a bit, Who woulda thought? I guess I just liked the idea of maybe being able to help someone. To do something good. I couldn't donate to a charity or anything so this was the next best option. "Great!" I said happily.

"I...Never mind."

I glanced at her, saw how she was staring at her hands, and knew instantly there was something she was hiding. I knew that look all too well-- it was the same one Johnny used every time he didn't want to tell the rest of us what his parents did this time, the same one Soda used to take on whenever someone asked him if he'd gotten over Sandy yet.

I knew the expression, but I also knew I shouldn't ask no matter how curious I was. I'd learned a long time ago that everyone had secrets, and nobody liked people who pried. So I pretended not to hear her, and watched the rain fall outside the wide library window to my right. The building was so quiet that you could hear the raindrops, almost, and it was nice.

"So when do you want to start? I could pay you. I have money. Sort of. A little. I do ok," she was saying. 揑 sit outside that grocery store a lot. I could run errands for you, get what you need. If you give me a list卽m卭nce I..once I learn how to read it I could help or卭r something.擺/i]

I shook my head, wincing a little at how awkward she was making this. "Don't worry 'bout it. Like I said, I ain't a real teacher. I can't take any kinda payment or the cops would arrest me for teaching without a license or whatever it is they do." I grinned, trying to lighten the situation, "I mean, just don't worry about it."

When she mentioned the sewing, though, I was surprised. She could sew? For a second I thought about it. Neither of my brothers or any of the rest of the gang could sew a stitch, and I could count on one hand the number of times I'd picked up a needle, so naturally when something ripped, it stayed ripped. We couldn't care less. I don't think Mom's sewing stuff had ever been touched since she died.

"Nah, it's okay," I said after a seconds' hesitation, "You don't gotta do anything. We can start whenever. I've got time tomorrow, if you want. How about 5:00? Library closes at six thirty, so we could stay until then."

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan smiled and took his hands in hers. "Thank you! Thank you so much." She grinned at him, almost bouncing with excitement. Maybe he really could teach her to read. And he didn't seem to mind that he was doing it for free. "Tomorrow sounds great." She glanced around the library again. It was still raining outside.

She stifled a sigh and got to her feet. "I should probably find somewhere to stay for the night before it rains much more." For just a second, she considered hiding out in the library. She could probably find a back room and just curl up and sleep...Joan shook her head, dismissing the thought. If she was found, whoever found her might call the police. "Thank you again," she held out her hand, her thoughts far away.

There was that old church. Perhaps she could stay there. The old priest was kind; he hadn't even scolded her when he'd found her sleeping in one of the pews. In fact, he'd allowed her to stay, and even promised to give her a key to the back door, so long as she promised not to steal anything. She'd promised. Now she fingered the key in her pocket. Father Robert had also promised to leave her some blankets and a pillow. Joan shivered. 'I hope tonight is the night he has.' "Bye, Ponyboy." With a wave, she started toward the door.

[eastsidesunset]

I gave a small laugh at her eagerness, only now realizing the complications in what I was trying to do. Could I really teach someone to read? I mean, I was an okay writer and I loved books but that didn't make me a teacher. What if I messed up? Too late to change my mind now, though, so I shook her hand once more and tried to look as confident as I was just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, I'll try my best. Don't thank me yet."

I stood up as she stood up too and followed her glance out a window. The rain was still going strong. I had a feeling it'd last for a while. Joan headed out the door with a wave and I wondered where she was gonna go. I couldn't solve every problem though. "See ya tomorrow, Joan," I said, picking up my bags and walked over to check out the book, putting the matter out of my head. She could take care of herself. It'd be okay.

I headed out of the automatic sliding doors of the library a couple minutes after Joan left, and shivered as a gush of cold rain blew towards me. Maybe I could call Darry or someone to pick me up... I didn't want to hear him lecture about making him worry and not going straight home after the shopping any sooner than possible, though. So I ran. Running in the rain while loaded with bags in both hands sure really isn't fun, but I didn't mind as much as I could've. My mind was busy trying to think of a way to teach the girl to read. I'd start with the alphabet, I decided. Maybe she knew it already. That'd make things easier.

We'd take it one step at a time, though. Like everything else had to be taken.

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan couldn't keep the grin from her face even as the rain slid down inside her jacket. Someone was finally going to teach her to read. She wasn't sure if he would have any luck, but at least he was willing to try. Her grin grew wider and she crossed herself, murmuring a silent prayer of thanks.

She turned down a side-street, holding her coat over her head to shield her face from the water. Hopefully, the church would be open. She quickened her pace, almost running, slogging through puddles. Her shoes were soon flooded. Bending down, she rolled up her pants, shivering as the soaked material touched her skin. Hopefully, she'd find blankets at the church.

Joan made another turn and soon reached the church. she climbed up the crumbling stone steps at the back and pushed at the warped wooden door. It was always open and if for some reason it wasn't, Joan knew where the key was. Underneath the statue of the Virgin Mary. She shoved again and the door blew inward. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut behind her.

The inside of the church was dim, lit only by the candles near the alter and the light that filtered in through the dusty windows. Joan's wet shoes squeaked on the old wooden floor. As she walked further into the church, she saw the pile of blankets on the pew. She shucked off her coat and walked toward the pile of blankets. Grabbing one, she wrapped it around her shoulders, draping the others across the pew. Stretching out on it, she wrapped the extra blankets around her and closed her eyes. Finally. She was warm.