scurlock | oom: milliways library

"Wouldn't dare lie to such a fine woman as yourself," Doc says. "Besides, I'm sure you would've been able to see right through it, just like listenin' to your students talk 'bout their homework."

He smiles, and nods his head as he offers her his arm again.

"The poetry section is just a few rows over?"

His words paint her cheeks the color of peach blossoms. She tucks her chin toward her chest shyly.

"Well, you are certainly right about one thing, Mr. Scurlock. I've gotten very good at seeing through a tall tale. One of my students once tried to tell me his hound ate his homework. Have you ever heard such a thing?"

Her expression brightens at the mention of the poetry section. She accepts his arm gently, reaching to put the book back on the shelf, but pauses.

"Do you think the proprietors would mind if I held on to this? Just for a few days?" She tends to devour literature quickly and eagerly. Besides, it sounds like too interesting a read to wait another eight years for.

"They don't mind at all. Sometimes if you know what you're lookin' for, you can just ask for it at the bar and they can get it without you havin' to come up here and search." Doc nods. "I could hold it for you, if you'd like to keep your hands free for perhaps choosin' a few more."

Then he chuckles.

"I once had one of my students try and tell me the same thing, 'cept in New York City, not many folks have room for a hound in their apartment, so I told him if he had such a small hound then perhaps he'd like t'bring it in to show the class," he smiles. "He brought in his work the next day, of course."

"Is that so?" This prospect visibly excites Miss Katherine, who is already composing a list of literature in her mind she's been dying to read. She smiles bashfully. "You are very kind.

"And very astute. I imagine there's no leaving a place like this without bringing a few books with you. I know it would be difficult for me, at least." She chuckles softly. "But I wouldn't want to burden your own hands, if there was something that caught your eye."

She laughs at his story. "Sounds like your students keep you busy. I can't imagine... New York living must be far different from what it is in the West. Do you not miss the open spaces when you're there, Mr. Scurlock?"

She motions for him to lead the way to the poetry section as they converse.

"You should see my room," Doc says, before he pauses. "Not that I'm...suggesting...just sayin' that I've got books all over. Bring new ones in all the time and they get mixed up with the old ones, I bring them back when I remember to but I'm sure she's got extra copies sittin' around."

He leads the way to the poetry 'section', as it stands.

"It is different," he agrees. "Very different. Often times I find myself wishin' I was back in New Mexico, 'fore we started havin' troubles. The city is...the city is amazing," he admits. "So many different places and people, but I do miss the sight of the sky sometimes."

There are the old and the new, the past and the future, mixed together on the shelves. Chaucer and Shakespeare share company with Homer and Frost, with Sappho and Keats. Spencer and Milton near Ryokan and yes, Poe.

She manages to chuckle dismissively, but the blush has not left her cheeks yet. Doc is a very charming character.

"I hope there are no late fees, in that case," she smiles. "I had a bill with the library in my hometown by the time I left. It was more than a dollar! And I keep finding their books as I unpack, too."

She nods. "The city sounds fascinating. I would adore traveling there someday. However, I don't think I could live anywhere but Texas. My heart is too wrapped up in the sky, the land, the lakes... even the desert."

When they reach the rows of finely bound books, Katherine beams at Doc and again breaks from his arm. She runs her fingers along the spines tenderly as she walks, examining each title. "Oh!" she exclaims, pulling a leather-bound book from its place. "Byron! But I've never seen a book so fine!"

"You could try it, sometime," Doc offers. "If there's someone here from a place you'd like to visit an'you get to know them, if they open the door you can go back or forward to their world. It's...quite amazing, really. One of my best friends is from England, from Sherwood. He's a man of Robin Hood. I've been back to visit his home, before, a few times."

He looks along the titles himself and smiles when she speaks. "The staff here takes good care of their books. As for late fees, never run into any myself. Bar can run you a tab, like I mentioned earlier, but I've never had any library fines." A knowing nod. "And well, as for the missin' books, I'm sure that they can rest easy knowin' that they'll be put to good use teachin' your students."

"Oh!" she exclaims, after flipping a few pages (forgive her, she's easily entranced). She turns to show Doc a passage and nearly bumps into him, dropping the book. And just after Doc had mentioned the good keep 'n care of the literature, too.

"Begging your pardon!" she breathes, hand to her chest and red-faced. "I didn't think you were that close. I found my favorite poem by Byron and... I suppose I got a little overzealous."

A pause.

"Did you say you know an acquaintance of Robin Hood?"

Doc reaches to steady her when she nearly bumps into him, a hand gently touching her arm, a smile on his face as he laughs quietly.

"It's quite alright," he promises, as he kneels down to fetch the book from the floor. "I've got it."

Once he's stood again, he nods.

"Will Scarlett. Young kid, 'bout eighteen. Flamin' red hair," he looks down at the book in his hands. "Which work of Byron's is your favorite?"

She reddens even more when he puts his hand on her arm. "I'm usually not this clumsy," she says sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. There's a timid little smile on her lips.

"Yes, I've heard of him I do believe! Well, at least, what I've seen in folklore and poem. But he's real? Here, in this bar, and real?" She beams. "First a member of Billy the Kid's posse, and now one of Robin Hood's merry men! I suppose next I'll be meeting Captain Ahab; or perhaps Hamlet?"

She redirects her attention to the book, now in Doc's hands, and reaches to find the page again. Her fingers lightly brush his knuckles as she does so, and she recoils shyly at the touch. "Forgive me. Ah... here." She points to the page.

"So we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon."

"That's beautiful," Doc says, very quietly. "I admit I haven't read too much Byron but...I think that I'll have to take a gander at some of his works, now that I see the talent."

His own ears are blushing, just a bit.

"Found I learn a lot here," he admits. "Always meetin' new folk an' makin' new acquaintances and such. You can learn so much just from talkin' to people and they all got stories to tell. Fine tales, even if it's just their normal lives."

Doc looks down a moment at the book.

"Ain't ever too old to learn, always reckon."

"And I'm glad for that, Mr. Scurlock," Katherine responds with a smile. "No man should go without Byron in his life. His poems are beautiful, but often so sad. When We Two Parted always makes me cry."

Her eyes fall back to the book as well. "No, never too old to learn. I find I've learned quite a lot in just the short time I've been in your company. You have had some fine stories to tell indeed; I hope you'll tell me more."

Her smile could light a lamp, easily.

"It ain't often I get people into Milliways who find it interestin', if I must say so," Doc says. "Bein' that I'm not from some far off land with starships and flyin' coaches and the like. Guess that's just what happens."

He looks at her and nods.

"So I suppose what I'm sayin' is I'd love to, Miss Katherine," he adds, with a bit of a smile on his face. "It'd be my pleasure to chat with someone who's interested in what I've got to share."

A beat.

"And please, call me Josiah. Or Doc."

She admits, the idea of flying... coaches... is a bit hard to wrap her mind around, but nonetheless she shakes her head. "I find that hard to believe. You're a very engaging conversationalist... Josiah.

"Or do you prefer Doc?" Her cheeks flush slightly.

"Would you tell me more about what you mentioned earlier? About going to other worlds through different people's doors? Sherwood must have been a treat!"

"It was. I'm hopin' to go back, after Will gets back from a holiday with a ladyfriend of his," he says, as he glances around the library and spots some nearby chairs. "Actually went back with him to help him out in a bit of a fight against the sheriff."

Doc motions at the chairs.

"I...well I don't mind which you use, but most people 'round here know me by Doc, so they'd probably know who you were talkin' 'bout a bit easier if you used that," he admits. "If you'd like to sit, I can tell you about Sherwood?"

"Oh." She looks visibly concerned for a moment. It's strange to hear Doc talk about fighting. Of course, she knew that must be part of the job description, being part of Billy the Kid's gang, but she hadn't quite reconciled this image with that of the gentle poet she had been conversing with these past few hours.

"Yes, of course," she says, blinking herself back to the present topic, and she moves toward the chairs. She offers him a brief smile.

"Doc it is, then.

"Please, continue."

"Wasn't much of a fight, more of a...well I'm sure you've read the tales. Robbin' the rich and givin' to the poor. Seems the sheriff took more than he was supposed to take and Will needed some help gettin' it back to help the people who live in Sherwood 'fore the snow came."

Doc sets her book down on a nearby table.

"So he asked me t'help him, and some others from the bar. There were...probably eight of us? We all went back together. It was...the scuffle with the sheriff wasn't much at all," he says. "But the forest...I ain't never seen anythin' like it. Green as far as you could see, and it was almost like...like it was alive."

"It sounds lovely," she remarks, some of the concern leaving her features. "Still, not much of a vacation, considering. I don't know many who would go to such lengths for someone else. I can't even imagine what that must have been like."

But she had read the tales, even played make-believe in the tall grass as a child, wielding a makeshift "bow" and imaginary arrow, calling for justice to be done to the afflicted. Her blue-green eyes sparkled with the memory.

"I'm hoping to go back against soon, for more of a vacation than to help out," he says. "Hopefully within the next few weeks."

Doc smiles a bit at the sparkle in her eyes. It makes her look alive and that's something that he doesn't see a lot in Milliways, that happiness. Something his own eyes have been missing for awhile.

"I had to learn a bit of work with a sword," he admits. "I'm not very good, but it was fun, and is fun to practice with him when we get the chance. Oh! I nearly forgot. Out the back door, there is a lake, and mountains off in the distance, and a forest. I'd be careful about the forest, there are some...creatures...but the lake is rather nice this time of year. And if you go along the shore, at the far side...there is a bit of it turned into the sea, like the tropics."

Katherine feels heat creep back into her cheeks at the look Doc is giving her. She ducks her head away from him a little.

"Well, I do hope you make it back sometime--under better conditions. I'd love to see it someday myself. As well as your New York City." A smile. "And I'd love to see your swordsmanship," she chuckles at the thought.

"Oh my, it sounds like this place is surrounded by quite the paradise! Mountains and sea?" She looks duly impressed. She's never been to the sea before.

"There are gardens as well, some of the patrons tend to them. A forge for ironwork and such, a place to practice shootin' and swordwork an' the like, and I'm in charge of the stables here. We got a few pretty well broke horses here for people who want to borrow 'em, take 'em out for a ride 'round the grounds and the like. Sometimes we get people in on horses that need a place to stable 'em up and get 'em fed."

Doc looks down a bit when she does, as he's not trying to make her blush but she's just...well she's...

Yeah.

"It's got most anythin' you could want."

Katherine's mouth hangs a little ajar as he continues his rundown of the Bar. "My word," she breathes. "You do seem to have everything here; the property must be huge!" She shakes her head a little, trying to wrap her mind around everything. "How do you get outside? I would very much like to see it for myself sometime."

"You remember where you came in from? Well there's a door straight across which leads out back to the outdoors."

Doc nods.

"I've been here...just over a year, in the bar time, s'been longer outside though. Time's...a funny thing. Sometimes when you're outside back in your world, you'll walk back into the bar and it will have only been seconds since you left. Othertimes it'll be longer."

Katherine nods, absorbing this. "How do you find your way back in? Is it always so... sudden? Pulling you in, so to say? Or is there some way to find the entrance yourself?"

She should probably get back soon, but she'd hate to leave and not be able to find her way back inside. She has decided she likes this place. And the patrons... well, they're not so bad either.

"Sometimes it isn't where you expect, it, but some people have solid doors that will always lead them to the bar. I doubt your schoolhouse entrance will always lead you to Milliways...but you might be able to find a closet or somethin'."

Doc thinks on that a moment.

"I've also come in just walkin' between two rocks or the like. Once we came in ridin' down a slope, horse spooked when he hit the wooden floorin'," he admits.

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