[ WP ] Reading books is illegal , and libraries are run like brothels . Describe borrowing and reading a book like a sexual experience .

`` Have you read a novel in the past year, or had extended conversations with a known reader in the past three months?'' The counselor asks me. 
 
 I hesitate, then force my answer out quickly. `` No.'' I say, perhaps a bit too fast. She looks at me, and for a moment, I fear that she has guessed. But she only looks to my ear, and asks, `` Where did you get that done?'' 
 
 `` At Claire's.'' I respond. `` I went with my little sister to get her ears pierced, and somehow she talked me into an industrial. You know little girls.'' 
 
 I must have made a right move, because the counselor chuckles. `` I got a second lobe when my daughter got hers. I used to think that extra piercings were ugly, but I do n't mind so much now.'' 
 
 She asks me the remaining questions on her sheet, then takes me into a spare classroom. A small, curly-haired blonde girl calls the counselor over. They exchange quick words, and then the counselor addresses me again. 
 
 `` Jerry, can you help Anna here with her fractions?'' She asks. 
 
 `` Sure.'' I say, and sit down next to Anna, smiling. I do n't like math much, but volunteer work looks good on college applications, so I do what I must. 
 
 An hour or so later, the after-school program ends. Anna thanks me sweetly, and I exit the classroom. 
 
 A tall, slim, brown-skinned girl catches up with me. My mind whirs and tries to guess her ethnicity, but fails. Her face shape is n't Indian, and she's too tall to be Central American, and her thick, slightly wavy hair does n't suggest African heritage. `` Hi. I'm Maya.'' She says. `` How do you do?'' Her voice is moderately high, both rich and clear, and moderately feminine. She's cute, and I have some time, so we converse some. It turns out that I know her older brother, as he was a drummer for a band I played in for a year a while back. 
 
 `` Your big brother is awesome.'' I say. `` Incredibly sensitive to a soloist.'' 
 
 `` Eh, I do n't think much of Big Brother.'' 
 
 I wait patiently for a correction, but there is none. I lock my eyes on her chocolate brown ones, and wink at her, praying that I was right. 
 
 `` He loved Big Brother.'' I say. 
 
 Then the conversation opens. 
 
 -- -- -- 
 
 A week later, I'm ducking through an alleyway deep in Chinatown. I find the place, a small dumpling restaurant with a dirty tiled floor. I walk up to the counter. I'm the only customer there, but I check one more time before placing my order. 
 
 `` I'd like a dozen Pumpkin Duck dumplings to go, please. And some tequila.'' 
 
 The worker stares at me. `` Who told you about our duck?'' He asks, narrowing his eyes. 
 
 `` Maya.'' I respond. 
 
 He looks out the door at the other end of the shop, and grabs my arm, guiding me behind the counter. From there, he takes me to the end of the kitchen, without a word. He opens a door behind a spice cabinet on the floor. It's small, but I squeeze through it, and down the narrow steps behind it into the library. 
 
 `` Hello? Pumpkin?'' I call out, as Maya instructed me. 
 
 A small, Asian looking woman approaches me. 
 
 `` I'm the librarian.'' She states, without shame. `` Is there anything specific you're looking for today? We have books in English, Spanish, even Mandarin and Cantonese. Any genre.'' 
 
 I raise my eyebrows, then grin. 
 
 `` Do you have any sci-fi?'' I ask, eager as any kid in a candy shop. 
 
 I take the paperback from her hands. It's tan-edged, and has fingerprints over dust on the cover. But the cover is white, and the ink is black and it will do. Gingerly, I open it to the publishing information, savoring every word. 
 
 I quickly grow to love the characters. Mild-mannered, academic Arronax becomes quickly my favorite. I wish I could show him to the world, tell them that novels are in fact not dangerous, not at all. But no one would believe me, straight out of a library. I love the hot-tempered Canadian Ned, and his apparent foil, obedient Conseil. Maya taught me that term, foil. It's the language of the readers that I treasure the most. 
 
 Oh, oh God, I love reading. I eagerly suck in the descriptions of beautiful, lush Crespo, bivalves with giant pearls, divers and thrilling sharks, and the wonders of the breathing Nautilus. The typeset word and turn of page is by far my favorite pleasure. I cry out, sometimes, speak aloud others. I've never had this luxury before. Maya told me that the library is soundproof. All too soon, my watch beeps. 
 
 `` Pumpkin?'' I call. 
 
 She looks up from her thick volume, and I smile, letting it last a moment before my expression fades. 
 
 `` I have to go. Limited time, and I did n't finish.'' 
 
 `` I'll mark your place for you.'' She offers. `` No take-out?'' 
 
 I reach for my wallet. `` I'm afraid not. I live with my little sister. How much for today?'' 
 
 `` Nothing.'' She winks. `` Just come back soon. I've never had the pleasure of listening to someone process aloud like you.'' 
 
 `` Oh. Okay. Thanks.'' I hurry towards the exit, and crawl out. I walk out through the kitchen. 
 
 The man who I spoke to earlier stops me. 
 
 `` Here, have some dumplings man. Say they're from the Happy Dragon. And go out the other way.'' He points out a route. 
 
 I eat a few of the dumplings and recall the sweet chapters as I walk. Ironically, the dumplings actually are duck. And they're sweet, with a taste slightly akin to Hoisin sauce. I shove a few more into my mouth after a sob, trying to drown out the taste of mucus and tears.
