is waif
A HISTORY OF TYPING
There was a note in a book and that’s how Stevey found out about the scavenger hunt. It’s also how she met Emily. The problem was that it was midway through the hunt and it was meant for pre-registered students participating in a frosh event. The organizers had not expected that someone might actually pick up the book “A History of Typing: From DVORAK to QWERTY” and sit down to read it on a Saturday, but at times Stevey would get an itch she had to scratch, and on this particular August Saturday, it was learning how society had ended up with its odd and seemingly random keyboard set up.
Stevey was a third year student studying anthropology, and although she studied humans rather closely, she knew very little about any real ones. She had many acquaintances, though none of whom were deemed interesting or smart enough to earn a label beyond that. To frankly put it, Stevey believed humans were fascinating on a large scale, be it a colony or giant civilization, but pick one out of a line- up and ask them their likes and dislikes and it was almost as dull as interviewing a broomstick.
“'Hmmm,' Stevey said aloud but to herself as she waited for her latte."
Stevey wore an oversized pale grey sweater and black jeans. The ragged appearance and oversized fit meant they probably should have been retired from her wardrobe much earlier. She was in a quaint and quiet corner of the library. It was a place the librarians considered to be inhabited by a strange being that digested, with no particular bias, the entirety of their library’s contents. That strange being was of course, Stevey. The two walls that merged to make the corner were made solely of windows. Stevey loved the spot particularly because it was on the third floor, allowing it to be just low enough to make out the actions of the humans she could see on the streets below, and just high enough not to focus too closely on any one individual that made up the mass. The couch on which she sat was a disgusting green that can only be compared to mucus, but it was cozy and Stevey quite liked the rough texture and absorbing cushion that consumed her most days when she was not in class or at her research job at the university.
Stevey opened the old, but mainly intact copy of A History of Typing: From DVORAK to QWERTY. The few creases there were on the dust cover were likely from other books being taken out and returned beside it. As soon as she parted the front cover from the rest of the book, she saw the little piece of paper on which was written the words:
Congratulations on your typing success, but from paintings to books, there’s more ways to express.
Your next clue is waiting In a place many may sit, to see other people pretend to exist.
Stevey looked at the paper in utter amazement. This was the intellectual bar being set for humans to get into school these days? She thought. She had immediately made the connection that this sucker of a note was part of a frosh event. It made her recall her own frosh events during her first year, or more accurately, the ones she skipped to watch her fellow new students roam around in packs trying to compete with one another to have more personality than anyone else. A competition she would not have won, she thought involuntarily. She pushed it from her brain.
“This is dumb,” she said out loud as she moved the note to the empty space beside her on the couch so she could read the acknowledgments in the book. “The answer is clearly the drama theatre,” she whispered.
The acknowledgement read, To my dearest husband for his continuous support in not only this book, but my entire life. Thank you Ted. Stevey turned to the next page.
*****
Stevey had been reading A History of Typing: From DVORAK to QWERTY for well over two
hours now. The sun had finally found its place in the sky for the day, though as Stevey would describe it, it would later lose confidence and try again tomorrow. While the sun was temporarily shining in all its glory, for her, its current position was the only downside in the otherwise perfect corner in the library. Its rays had invaded her reading space and made the area much too bright and hot to read comfortably. She had felt mostly satisfied with the new information she had digested and would likely need to follow up with some food and coffee anyway.
Following a large inhale and a long stretch, she reached around absent-mindedly looking for some sort of loose paper that would make for a decent bookmark. To her left, she felt a small piece of notepaper and pulled it close. She had completely forgotten about it already. This was her second encounter with the clue. She looked at it firmly. The drama theatre, she thought again. It was so obvious. This must be an early clue, they must get harder. There is no way this is the standard for the entire event. And as much as she thought herself better than to get caught up in such meager socialization tactics, the idea of more clues to solve had begun to consume her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone. Her thumbs tapped danced around the screen and suddenly she was on a page on the internet that had a list of riddles. Now these are at least a bit challenging she thought as she read the first one. Still staring at the words on her screen, she fiddled the note a bit longer, and then put it back in the book so as not to disturb the precious layout of the human social engagement. Deciding to return the book to its shelf, she walked away from her hideout, eyes weighed down by the pixels in her hand, and brain weighed down by the challenge they represented.
*****
“I’ll have a soy milk latte and a carrot muffin,” Stevey said as she pulled up her credit card on her phone.
“WATCH OUT!”
“Er.”
“Sorry!”
It was an encounter she was not involved in though it stole her attention from her order anyway. It had happened across the room. The room was the student centre lobby. It featured a coffee stand in the back corner, which was where she was standing, and a large area for students to sit and do whatever they pleased. The encounter that demanded her head to turn and ears to perk was a group of students running through toward the library, bumping into every possible person they could on their way.
“What is it again?” One of them yelled.
“It’s gotta be a book, I’m pretty sure this is a dewey decimal number!” Replied another.
“Wow you’re smart, I thought it was an IP or somethin’!”
Two others followed closely behind, not contributing anything necessarily, but still looking eager and excited to be in the group nonetheless.
Beeeep.
Stevey’s phone had tapped the machine. Her eyes returned to the service counter in front of her.
“Here’s your muffin,” the young student said. “Your latte will be at the end,” they gestured to the left. Stevey smiled and walked out of the way. “Next!”
“Hmmm,” Stevey said aloud but to herself as she waited for her latte. ‘Smart’, she thought. She wondered what the clue could have been that a dewey decimal number would be the answer. For a brief moment an idea floated through her head. She pictured it had been her instead. She was the one who solved the clue. She knew what dewey decimal numbers looked liked, there is no doubt she would have recognized one. Maybe, just maybe, she could test herself a bit more. The riddles on her phone were boring anyway.
*****
And with that, Stevey had found herself walking into the drama theatre. It was dark and oddly quiet. Maybe she was the first one here, she thought. She reached for her phone, turned on her flashlight, and began looking for a light switch. With the flick of a button, the room was lit. What amazing things humans can do, she thought.
The light switch had not been far from the door at the back of the theatre. She looked up and saw there were about twenty rows between her and the stage. Nothing jumped out at her yet, though she did not know exactly what she was looking for. She started making her way up and down the rows of seats, eyeing out something that may be a clue. She paced up and down, up and down, back and forth, back and forth, and soon started to think that maybe the clue wasn’t in the seats at all. Perhaps it was on the stage. As she made the decision to walk up toward it, she heard a creek from the back of the room. The door had opened. “Crap,” she muttered. The challenge of finding and solving the clue had been knocked down in her priorities now. Instead she decided to leave without having to interact with the group of students that were about to walk in.
But a group didn’t enter. Instead it was a single person. That single person was a tall girl in loose light jeans and a sweater with text reading Social Sciences in the university font.
“Hello?” the girl said, “did you find it?”
“Find what?” Stevey responded, as if they weren’t there for the same reason.
“Oh sorry, I thought you were a part of the scavenger hunt.”
“Ahh.” Stevey started to walk toward the door.
“Before you go, did you see anything that could look like a clue?”
“For the scavenger hunt?” Stevey stopped at the row where she left her bag and went to pick it up.
“Ya,” the girl said as she walked in, letting the door close behind her. The room was uncomfortably silent.
“That would make sense,” Stevey started quietly avoiding eye contact by pretending to adjust the strap on her bag. “No I haven’t seen anything.” She started walking again.
“Have you been here a while?”
“No, not really. Why?” Stevey’s own fingers somehow became a puzzle for her now.
“Just wanted to see if maybe anyone else has been here.” The girl put down her own bag and started pacing the rows as Stevey had just done.
“Oh. No.” Stevey watched as the girl wasted her time. Growing more uncomfortable with her lie, she turned her attention to the girl’s actions. “Shouldn’t you be in a group?”
“Yes, I am,” she said. Her short brown hair fell in front of her face as she bent to check below the seats. It occurred to Stevey she had not thought to do that. She stood up straight and dusted off. “We had a difference of opinion though, and decided to split up for a little,” she said matter-of-factly. “You know, to explore both options.”
“I see.” Without thinking much about it, Stevey put her bag back down. “What was your clue?”
“Uh, something like,” and she paraphrased the clue Stevey had already heard, and Stevey pretended to listen as if it were new information.
“I mean, I’d say that would be the theatre for sure.”
“Right? But my group thinks its the movie theatre, not the real theatre.”
“Hmmm,” said Stevey. She watched as the girl walked up and down, up and down the rows bending every few seats to check underneath. Stevey noticed how her hair fell in front of her eyes each time, and she would follow by pushing it back behind her ears yet again. “Er,” she said, “I’m Stevey.” Inhale. “Icanhelplookifyouwant. I, ugh, have nothing better to do anyway.”
She popped up from the seat she was examining. “Perfect! Do you want to try those rows?” She pointed and Stevey nodded. “I’m Emily.
*****
And so Stevey repeated the motions, not really sure herself why. After about ten minutes of uninterrupted searching, they made their way through all of the rows.
“Hmmf,” Emily said. She stood tall and Stevey could see the eyes her hair was hiding were dark green. “No one else has come, eh?”
“Well, no one that I’ve noticed,” Stevey joked.
Emily hiked up her jeans in an awkward jumping motion. Stevey noticed where they rested above her waist. Realizing how silly her motion had been, Emily giggled. “I hope I’m not wrong.”
“I’m sure you’re not.”
“Why? You just met me, I could be dumb.” She giggled again.
“Well, this was my first thought too. I guess that would make both of us dumb,” Stevey chuckled back, still avoiding eye contact and suddenly seeming to develop a new fascination for her shirt sleeve.
“You had less time to think about it than I did, I’m sure I just got the thought in your head,” she sat down in the seat she was standing next to. It was the row closest to the stage. The light came down and illuminated a small beauty mark beside her right eye. Stevey took notice. “What were you doing here anyway? Are you a part of the theatre?”
“Ahh,” she looked away. “No, the stage isn’t really for me. I ugh, well to be honest maybe I am just as dumb as you.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, ugh, that was meant as a joke. Kinda. I saw the clue earlier by accident. I was reading in the library and it was in my book.”
Emily let out a full laugh this time. “Did you lie because you didn’t want anyone to know you were casually reading about the history of typing on a Saturday?”
Stevey let out a nervous laugh. “Not really, I just am not actually supposed to be a part of this.”
“Well, you are now!” Emily sounded playful. She jumped out of her seat and jumped into a sitting position on the edge of the stage. “I’m in need of a new teammate.” She stood up.
Stevey, still standing in her place, let out a large exhale that along with used air, took a generous amount of anxiety out of her chest. She too jumped onto the stage.
*****
“Would you rather see a play or watch a movie?” Emily asked as she darted around the stage, investigating.
“Neither. I prefer to read.” Stevey checked between the curtains that were pulled to the side.
“That explains the library thing.” She fiddled through some stacked chairs. What did you get in for?”
“To school?”
“Ya.”
“I’m in my third year for anthropology.” She gave up in the curtains, now opting for the sound board side stage. “You?”
“I’d expect someone learning about people would like to watch people from time to time,” she laughed. “And isn’t it obvious?” She pointed at her sweater. “I’m in social science too. Specifically though, North American history.”
“Cool,” Stevey replied, and she genuinely thought it was.
“I did two years of economics before this and I just kinda started to get bored of numbers.”
“Ya, numbers can be boring,” Stevey spilled out, just to keep the conversation going.
The two realized they were both no longer searching for a clue, and together without speaking opted to sit on the edge of the stage rather than continue to look.
“Still no one else eh?” Emily said. They were beside each other at centre stage.
“Guess not.”
Ding. Emily pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked down. “That explains it.” “What?”
“That’s my team. They found the next clue. Looks like we are both dumb. It was at the movie theatre.”
“Funny,” Stevey said releasing the last bit of anxiety she was harbouring.
“Yup. I was so sure they were the dumb ones.” Emily laughed again and pushed her hair behind her ears.
“So did I.” With that Stevey’s eyes met Emily’s. “Guess we were wrong.”
“I’m kinda bored of the scavenger hunt anyway,” she smiled and Stevey returned it.
“Same.”
“You know what all this has made me want to do though?”
“What’s that?”
“See a movie.” She brushed off and stood back up. “Wanna join?”
“Sure.” Stevey stood up too, center stage.