[ CS ] The World at Large

It's not that Timmy wanted to be apathetic, or that he chose to be; he was only three years old at the time, so no one could blame him for blissfully playing with his Tickle Me Elmo in the days after Jerry's death. But Jerry's death became the stuff of legend in their home town, and Timmy had to grow up with constant reminders and pestering questions being thrown at him from everyone who learned who he was. A person can only hear `` How did your brother blow up again?'' before snapping. And Timmy snapped. 
 
 -- - 
 
 As the September of his senior year in high school turned into October, Timmy began to wonder what kind of senior prank he could do. He spent time in the local library, sitting on the cracking leather of old armchairs with a pile of dusty books from the `` Jokes and Funnies'' section on the floor beside him. Some of the pranks were too small-scale for a school prank, others overused or corny. Timmy could n't help but wonder if there was even a prank that could achieve his goal - to get him known for something other than being the brother of the boy who exploded. 
 
 Timmy became a friend of the librarian over time, not because he particularly cared about her or the magazines about cat fashion that littered her desk, but because he was the only other person in the library, and the librarian liked to talk. Marion was a quaint, charming lady in her late 60s who had moved to town only after the `` Litterfield Body Litters Field'' headlines finally disappeared from local newspapers. She never much cared for the story, but always cared for little Timmy, who she would say was no longer a person of his own, but instead just a vessel for the legacy of Jerry's untimely demise. So she enjoyed Timmy spending so much time in her library and felt a strong sense of responsibility to help him in his endeavor. 
 
 When Timmy explained his plan to the kindly old librarian, he could n't understand why the usually gentle expression she wore gained a dark edge. She excused herself and Timmy only watched on in dumb silence as he waited for an explanation of the sudden change. He watched her cross the room unbearably slowly to the librarian's desk that seemed miles away from where Timmy sat, and kept his eyes riveted on the chipped wooden edge Marion disappeared behind as she knelt down. 
 
 Marion appeared again with a small, leather-bound book that looked to be at least twice her age. She made the excruciatingly slow trek back across the room, her devious smile seeming to grow wider the closer she got, culminating in a satisfied nod as she dropped the book in his lap. It had no title, no markings beside the discoloring that was rampant on the leather. Timmy picked up the old thing, silently remarking about how heavy it felt compared to its size. `` Have you ever watched *National Treasure*?'' she asked simply. 
 
 Timmy nodded. 
 
 `` I think you might like this, then.''
