Free The Writer by D.W. Ulsterman Page A

She felt her entire body trembling as she realized the man was no more than four rows away from her hiding spot. He was, in fact, close enough that she could smell him.
    Cigarette smoke.
    Adele proceeded to crawl on all fours to the end of the bookshelf and then curled into a ball against the corner of the shelf and wall, praying the darkness would keep her from being seen.
    She looked up as the man’s approach suddenly halted. A form, partially hidden by shadow, stood at the end of the row and seemed to be staring directly at Adele. He wore a dark hoodie pulled over his head, making it impossible to see the face residing within.
    Adele opened her mouth and prepared to scream as loud as she could.
    The sound of the elevator opening in the hallway outside the room caused her to pause and the man to suddenly turn and make his way toward the exit.
    “Excuse me, sir, the library is closed. You’re not supposed to—”
    Just as Adele stood up she heard the sound of a body striking against something hard and an older male voice crying out at someone.
    “Hey! Get your ass back here!”
    Adele ran down the space between the shelves toward the archive room entrance and saw a man struggling to get back onto his feet. She leaned down to help him up, but when he looked up at her he batted away her hand.
    “And what the hell are you doing down here? Up to no good, I’d guess?”
    The man, who was in his late sixties, winced as he felt a stab of pain in his lower back when he stood up. Adele noted the tag clipped to the front pocket of his short-sleeved, olive-colored dress shirt indicated his name was Carl. He had been the primary night shift custodian at the university library for nearly twenty years, a time which was an education unto itself regarding the best and worst aspects of college student behavior. He ran an age-spotted hand across the thin strands of white hair that partially covered his forehead and then tucked a corner of his shirt back into the dark blue jeans he wore.
    “Did you get a look at the man who ran by you?”
    Carl glared at Adele, annoyed by the question.
    “No, I didn’t, because I couldn’t see his damn face. He was wearing one of those sweatshirt hood things.”
    The custodian glanced into the gloom that was the archive room’s interior and scowled.
    “Why is it so dark in there?”
    He then took a moment to look at Adele more carefully before shaking his head in a show of disgust.
    “Never mind, I think I figured it out. You young folks these days suffer from too many hormones and not enough sense. Having a private moment in a public library, huh? Wouldn’t be the first time I’d interrupted something like that, and most likely won’t be the last. Now why don’t you get yourself on out of here, young lady? I’m sure your boyfriend is waiting for you outside.”
    Adele’s eyes widened at the description.
    “He was a young man? The guy you just saw run out of here, he was my age?”
    Carl shook his head again.
    “I told you, I don’t know! I just assumed after having seen you…he was strong though, I’ll give him that, pushed me into this wall here easy enough. Maybe if you had the light on in there I would have gotten a better look at him. Then again, I’m guessing that light was off for a reason.”
    It was then the custodian, himself a father of two daughters and four granddaughters, realized how rattled Adele actually was. His annoyance instantly transformed into concern for the female college student.
    “Hey, was that man bothering you? Do you want me to call campus security?”
    Adele shook her head while she readjusted her backpack on her shoulders.
    “No, I’m fine, thank you. Are you sure you didn’t see his face?”
    This time Carl’s expression was one of regret instead of annoyance.
    “I’m sorry, no. I just couldn’t see him and it all happened so fast.”
    Adele flinched as the sound of her cell phone echoed against the concrete walls. It was her newspaper editor,