The computer lab click clacked with the sound of keys being hunted and pecked one by one. The whisper of a mouse over the tables, off the mousepad and far into the reaches beyond the monitor, could be heard from ten feet away. I signed on the patron to the computer and smiled and she smiled back.
Ten minutes later she came back to me, dancing. I knew what that meant, and pointed to the sign near the door that marked the place that stopped all dancing. She left, a smile that thanked me.
Minutes later she came back, still dancing. Her head tilted in a confused, distant way. I stood and walked to the door of the bathroom. She continued past me and went outside, turning as if I had lead her into a hellish abyss from whence there was no return.
I pointed to the small woman and man standing side by side, divided by a line. The door beside me stood closed and I pushed it. It opened, swinging to reveal two other doors. These doors contained a man and a woman each.
She stared, light dawning behind her eyes in that secret place where embarrassment and true knowledge lie. She smiled and stopped dancing. Then she panicked, tried to run, but stopped. Her body went rigid and her face went calm as the wind whipped her hair. A puddle formed beneath her, around her sneakers.
I went to fill a bucket of water, leaving her with her shame and thankful she had been outside. When I came back, she had left the building. I poured the bucket where the puddle stood just outside the library exit and set put a small yellow triangle to warn people of the hazard. I did not think it would freeze, the bright sun shining down. I hoped it would evaporate soon.