This is a rough draft. It has undergone little editing and no re-writes. Enjoy as this story comes together. 

Down Taft Street, there was a little grassy park in the middle of six different car dealers. The irony was not lost on Odi. It had a few wooden benches, a rusted drinking fountain, and an oak surrounded by reasonably pruned flowers.

Odi wished he had time to sit and watch the people pass, but from the bus stop he sprinted west, past the park, over to the historic part of town where Mr. Ujazdowski would be waiting in his shop.

He turned to go down his usual alley between a crafts store and a bakery but was stopped by a bucket truck that was parked angularly to prevent pedestrians. A line-worker was in the bucket, trying to transfer the cables from a rotting support to a freshly placed pole. A second worker on the ground noticed Odi.

“Sorry boy! It’s dangerous through here.”

Odi waved them thanks and backed out of the alley. Hendle continued north and connected to Jackson. He’d have to take the long way around.

He set off at a jog. Mr. Ujazdowski wasn’t unkind, but whenever Odi was late, his leathery face made a look that said nothing but pained disappointment. Odi was determined to be on time.

Once on Jackson, he was suddenly aware of the quality of his surroundings. Houses that were three stories and all brick, massive trees of all breeds, and reasonably fashionable people milling on their porches. He made every effort not to stare too long though this was proving to be fruitless.

Suddenly, the line of houses broke and became a massive wooded park. Odi froze. He’d forgotten about this park. He had not taken this route in a long time. However, he knew cutting through would lead to Ulysses Road and that would connect him to the book shop.

He wound through the trees until he came to a paved path and then followed that. A few folks passed the other way; a young woman with a toddler in a wagon, two boys on mountain bikes, and a shirtless old man on roller-skates listening to something loudly on a radio. In the shade of the large trees, Odi let his mind wander back to the world of his books.

A change in the sounds snapped him out of it. The light trill of small birds and rustling leaves was replaced by the sound of a many shoes on concrete. Just ahead was a line of forty or so high schoolers all dressed in the same purple and white athletics jerseys. Leading the pack was a woman in her late twenties with warm skin and short, wild brown hair. She was shouting to the group behind her.

“Come on! Forget it’s Monday! Forget you’re running in a group of your peers! Run for a purpose! Run like if you don’t, squirrels will catch up and bite your ankles!” she said. A few of the less winded kids laughed politely.

Odi hugged the edge of the pavement to let them enough leeway and the woman smiled and nodded to him as she passed. A few runners spared him a glance, but most ignored him. Then, near the end of the line, he saw something.

Behind a skinny guy with glasses and sweat-matted hair was a short girl with a golden mane of curls billowing behind her despite being tied at the back of her neck. She had a soft but animated face that was presently contorted in concentration and was dotted with freckles like dark stars in a pink sky.

Odi stopped running. The sudden change broke her focus and drew her attention. They locked eyes. Hers were like great pools of Caribbean ocean water. His, he imagined, were wide with stupid surprise. Odi shook his head in frustration and pushed himself to a run.

He tried to drift into his imagination, but something was different now. His mind was filled with the image of her. He cursed in frustration.

Unknown to Odi, Wilona had gone scarlet.

“Are you ok? You look like you’re dying. Or on fire,” Edmund said.

Wilona punched him.

---

Odi pushed on the weathered door of the book shop, hoping it would’t betray him with noise. From the dark, a book came sailing at his head. He ducked, and it crashed into the wall to his left. Odi stared around the room. Mr. Ujazdowski was hanging over the banister of the second floor.

“Late, late, Rabbit,” he said. He looked disappointed.