The Coloring Book

My work in progress for a YA book

Chapter One �" Huey vs the Dewy

 

Hushed with thousands of words and ideas to be shared; Confined to the spaces assigned by the authoritarian and kept aligned to avoid confusion. The air thick with the scent of a millennium full of thoughts and time. Hopes, dreams, and ideas were tattooing the spines of these inanimate couriers. Although they are unable to speak, the air was electric with the anticipation of the new book drive. Each genre whispered amongst themselves as they imagined what new stories would be joining their family. Another adventure tale, possibly? A suspense novel captivating its onlooker with a yearning towards the next page? It didn’t matter. It was time to let the people in and see what lay ahead.

By the time she came to, it was too late. "Huey”, titled as an ironic play on words to this black and white coloring book, converted into another piece of clutter. Constrained to a life on the very top of a pile of unread and rejected stories. Her unturned pages, still crisp, remained empty. Years of dust cleared off from neglect, she knew this new adventure would lead to anything better than her current arrangement. Her thoughts wandered as the tale-tell gargoyles of the public library came into view and the possibilities became a reality. Huey could hardly hold back her excitement.

Voices reverberated through the once quiet building as men, women, and children filed in with their arms full of passed down adventures and memories. Contributions that would not go unnoticed in this once vibrant home to this bound print. Steph, the head librarian, was plagued by the irony that laden the halls. The absence of sound that the establishment demanded in its infancy developed into the absence of patrons. Survival became critical. So, just as life exhibits through the wilderness, to continue, you must evolve. This book drive was the beginning of their metamorphosis into the future; with a timely yet tremendous success. Huey was elated to become a part of such a respected and upcoming monument to the people’s history.

Hours passed as she was placed to the side watching these hundreds of new collections become acquainted to their new homes. Hope still high, she ignored the green starting to appear on her cover from envy and straightened her spine.

“Maybe they’re just cleaning off my new shelf”, Huey thought to herself hopefully. As time passed, the hundreds turning to dozens that became a few. Nothing became of her. At last, the volunteer that dedicated their time to the final labeling of the donations, plucked her from the bin to examine her contents.

“Uhm… Steph? A coloring books? What should I do with this one?”

            Steph turned on her heels, exhaustion and joy from life painted on her face, twisted her features into that of confusion.

            “Well, the pictures aren’t colored… But a coloring book at a library? Seriously? Just toss it with the Art books and let’s call it a night.”

            It was like Huey was dropped into an ocean. What did they mean? Was she not a book just like the others? Why was it so weird that she was there? She felt the thud of the cart as it pushed her to her new home, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that was crawling through her pages. Her new abode would be with the greats, or at least their books. Picasso, Vincent Van Gogh, or Michelangelo, she fantasized what stories they would share and began her slow decent into a trance-like slumber.

Chapter Two �" Placement

           

            It was quickly established that the art section was not where Huey needed to be. After a quick reassessment, it was decided that she would just move to the children’s area and that would be the end of it. The days were growing longer as she spent her times on her new shelf in the children’s section of the library. She waited anxiously as her fellow books flew off the shelf and back home after their two-week vacation and she had yet to be picked. Not even once. This was starting to weigh on her. Waiting on the wings for her chance to entertain, she began to dim, and her pages began to wear.

            Although she felt alone, her apparent lack of interest was not unnoticed by the librarian, Steph. Her heart went out to this lonely little book and she tried with all her might to find the perfect place for her. There were fundraisers and events to try and peak the interest of the children in art, or in the adults suffering from stress as a relaxation tool. As much effort as she put into this, it was to no avail. It seemed that there was simply no need of a coloring book at a public library.

            Huey went into a hibernation of sorts, rationalizing that, at the very least, she would never be sent to the worst place imaginable: the trash bins. Days turned into months and months turned into years and the other novels went from teasing her to just ignoring this pitiful book. The others had a story to them. Adventures of love and accomplishment. Their words painted images of other worlds into the minds of the young and all she seemed to be was a monochrome outline of a drawing. Not much more content than the business section of the newspaper. She could never have imagined that all this would change on that fateful fall day.

 

It was a day like any other. Families perused the shelves, looking for the perfect story they could share with their children when she met her. Amelia. Her name seemed to even bring color to the dimmest day. Huey’s self-preservation hibernation was interrupted abruptly to the sensation of weightlessness as Amelia held her in her hands. She looked through the pages and promptly held her tightly to her chest.

            “Mama!!!! Daddy!! Look! Look!!”

            ‘Mama’ as the little girl addressed her, she glanced over her shoulder and a broad smile broke over her face. She had been assisting the littler of the two find a more colorful and bright story for her brother and seemed relieved at the site of a distraction for her daughter. ‘Daddy’ agreed without hesitation and once the younger one had made his selection, they made their way to the front.

            It was a rare site to witness Steph working the check-out desk, but when her only other assistant called in, the busy work was well received. Huey hadn’t so much has entered her mind in the past six months only to be greeted by this young family and this forgotten book. A feeling of relief and joy reverberated from her and she knew that there was only one thing to be done.

            “Hey, why don’t you just take this one home? Every book has its own story and this one is looking for its illustrator and you look like the perfect candidate. My only condition is that you promise to make every page just a beautiful as the last.”, Steph insisted. Thankfully there wasn’t too much prompting necessary and Huey was off to her new home.

 

Author's Note

To be continued.