The committee for Heritage Days activities and events consisted of the usual suspects: Jenna Buckley, Erica Rollins, Kelly Rogers, Laura Keene, Bryce Preshka, and Jade Olson Wilkin. Marla Branson, a registered nurse at the Raging Ford Medical Center, and Brenda Christmas, the principal of Samuel Rage Elementary School, were new this year, as was Glenda Thursson, a librarian from the New Library.
Laura had had the dickens of a time keeping her mind on anything at all besides Lorelei Rage’s library card since she’d found it. So many thoughts were racing through her mind, and a new one jumped to the front when the moderator, Bryce Preshka, asked for new business.
“What about setting up a display at the New Library to show the experience library patrons had at the Old Library?” Laura broached.
“Why?” someone asked. The “someone” happened to be Jade Olson Wilkin whom Laura remembered from ninth grade. Jade was a year ahead of Laura and her friends, and the woman hadn’t changed since that time. She rarely saw the purpose of anything in the town’s holiday events or any other conversation about anything that didn’t focus on her, as evidenced by her mistakes and omissions on the St. Patrick’s Day committee earlier in the year. Yet she remained on several of the committees.
“Because these are our town’s Heritage Days,” Laura responded. “And I think it’s important to look at our founders and our heritage. Show the kids what it was like in the old days, how to look up books in a card catalogue, for instance.”
“What’s a card catalogue?” Jade asked but got no further because the meeting erupted into bubbles of excitement over the idea.
“We could make it interactive for the kids!” Brenda Christmas chimed.
“What a great idea! We can post pictures of the Old Library!” Kelly added.
“We have old books we can set up!” Glenda Thursson said. “They’re boxed up in the basement, and some are in the old and rare book collection. Just ask Melba, Laura. I’m sure she’ll love the idea.”
Comments flew as Jade continued to look bored.
“I think this is all a waste of time—” she began but was cut off by Bryce.
“Stop, Jade. Just stop. That’s a very good idea, Laura. We go through the old cemetery and take folks through the Freedom Tunnel where the town helped slaves escape to the river and make their way to Canada. The Old Library is also part of our heritage. What else do you think we should include?”
The suggestions flew about, and Laura realized their ideas would greatly enhance her original thoughts about the project.
“Oh, my gosh!” Jade suddenly cried out, looking at her phone.
All conversation stopped.
“Is anything wrong?” Erica asked. “Anything we can help with?”
“I have to go,” Jade announced, grabbing her bag, and fleeing the group.
“What is it?” Jenna called after her.
“My baby said his first word! This is awful! Now I have to teach him to speak properly or that expensive school for super-babies will never take him next year.” The door slammed behind her.
Laura put a hand on Erica’s arm to stop her from saying that Jade Olson Wilkin was a “good mother,” parroting Jade’s consistent self-description, or something even worse about a door slamming behind her and not hitting anything on the way.
“Isn’t her baby around eight months old?” someone asked, but no one answered.
The remainder of the committee members looked about at each other, not so much from confusion as from a sense of relief.
“What’s next?” Bryce asked Kelly.
“I think we were going to talk about Laura’s idea for a Heritage Days booklet for teens and adults and a coloring book for the kids. The charge is minimal and just to cover printing expenses. I’ll help design the coloring book which we’re thinking might just be a free giveaway.”
“Excellent, Kelly. Thanks. Laura, do you plan to include anything about our vets to wrap Memorial Day into this?”
“On it,” Laura replied. “Maybe a section on the vets or a separate trifold. I’ve already emailed Michael Pickens Photography Studio for old photos and Smedley & Smedley for old records. We’ll look for both library shots and veterans that we can put in Memorial Day flyers, which we’re running out of time to do, and the Heritage Days booklets, and even post some at the library. Maybe on the town’s website, too. Harry Kovacs might know if we have any current veterans here in town or nearby, like Jack Flynn who works at the police station. We can include those no longer with us and honor their families. We have to jump on this. Next, I have to check at the library to see if they can accommodate us, what records they might have that we can display, such as a sign-out book, and whether or not they have an actual model of a card catalogue.”
“Really good idea, Laura,” Bryce said.
“Who does our town’s website, anyway?” Laura asked.
Several voices spoke in unison, “Charlie Kovacs.”
Laura was not surprised.
“A card catalogue would be so cool!” Brenda reiterated. “None of the kids in school now have ever seen one. Maybe we can eventually have them design and make one for each classroom’s books.”
“What an awesome idea!”
“If they don’t have a real card catalogue for the library display, can we make one?”
Jenna nodded.
“There are enough pictures online that we can probably throw something together and make the cards to go inside. I found information online that shows what data was actually on the cards.”
“Great,” Bryce said. “So you’ll work with Laura on this, Jenna?”
She nodded vigorously.
When the committee got past the flea market, picnics, and parade, and finally landed on the dunk tank, it was once again Laura’s turn to report.
“Whom do we have from Raging Ford’s finest to dunk in the water?” Bryce asked.
“Sergeant Fitzpatrick, Officer Larson, and Corporal Sanchez. Quite possibly Corporal Mortensen. We’ll know in a couple of weeks.”
There was clapping.
“Cheers for your efforts, Laura,” Bryce responded. “That should net the station plenty of funds for their brass railings. What about the logistics?”
“Erica and I plan to take the training, along with Max Downey and Nick Rayles. The rental company provides an assistant free of charge on the day we use the tank. Harry Kovacs will have to come along to sign the final paperwork and do everything right. All is under control.”
“How are you handling the expenses on this?”
“Summer water bills are pretty low for the school, so Brenda Christmas, the principal, got permission for the school district to pay for the difference between last year’s bill for July and this year’s. With the cost to rent the dunk tank covered by the town, we‘re good to go because we know how much the kids in this town will enjoy dunking the cops.”
Light laughter followed.
“Did you get all this down, Brenda?” Bryce asked. He might be running the meeting, but Christmas was the designated organizer and record keeper.
The principal nodded, murmuring, “And some of it I already knew.”
“Okay, and don’t forget the flyers and online ads for everything. Focus on Mapleton because they’re the higher income area and have more money to spend.”
Brenda fought a smile as she made the notation in her notebook.
“And I’ve also arranged for the EMTs to have a unit at the fair, as we always do, and especially now that we’re dunking peace officers,” she commented.
Smirking rippled through the group, but they got through the rest of the events for the multi-day celebration and agreed to meet again in a week. Memorial Day was fast approaching, and some of the events including the town picnic to open the summer season would spill onto their list of tasks which Brenda Christmas would email to each of them.
“Next meeting, next week,” Bryce called to everyone gathering their things and rising to leave. “Next meeting will be in
the community room of the New Library.”
Just as they all exited the Valencia Café and were getting in their cars to leave, Jade Wilkin drove back into the lot, slammed on her screeching breaks, and shot down her window.
“Everything okay, Jade?” someone asked.
“My husband is an idiot. The baby was only burping.”
The committee members continued to leave the parking lot.
Outside the Valencia, the Fab Four stood around and chatted a few moments before Jenna and Kelly left.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Erica commented.
“It might have been if Laura hadn’t stopped you from saying that Jade was a good mother which we all knew you were going to say,” Jenna mentioned. “Or worse.”
Erica looked offended.
“What would have happened? Like maybe she might have heard me and never spoken to any of us again? Or maybe she would have thought we all finally realized what a good mother she is?”
Kelly and Laura both snorted.
“I just think,” Jenna said, “that we need to act more like…grownups.”
“That’s no fun,” Erica retorted.
“Melba Coombs from the library is probably coming to the rest of the meetings, starting next week,” Laura pointed out. “And Brenda Christmas is a school principal. She will also be at the rest of the meetings.”
“Okay, but you guys are really cramping my style,” Erica finished, her thoughts touching on whether she could still be sent to the principal’s office at this point in her life and what she might say if or when she got there.
Chapter 11
Flags and red-white-and-blue fake tattoos flew off the shelves on Tuesday. Laura could imagine the people of Raging Ford seeing the kids in town with those tattoos on their cheeks and arms, patriotic beads and t-shirts, and enjoying the sight as much as they had seeing the little ones hopping about the town in their bunny gear for Easter.
As much fun as Laura had throughout the day interacting with her customers and selling her wares, her mind was focused in all peripheries on her idea for the display in the New Library. During her lunch break, she jotted down a variety of rough sketches for what should be included, how big a space it would take, and of course, tracking down the Old Library’s card catalogue and book check-out records. She flew through the afternoon, closed and locked everything, and set off on her real mission.
* * *
The New Library was as different from the Old Library as night and day. They were both buildings; they both held books; and they were both peopled with librarians helping patrons to find the books and information they wanted or needed. One would think these facts would make them more alike than dissimilar, but that’s where all similarity ended.
While the Old Library was an exquisite example of Victorian architecture with all the bells and whistles available to it at the time it was built, circa 1900 C.E., the New Library was sleek and modern without any bells and whistles but a boatload of modern technology.
Laura stood for a moment outside her car, just looking at the New Library’s pale pink granite blocks that enclosed the building. It was big, but she didn’t think it was that much bigger than the Old Library; however, maybe its space had been put to better use without the secret passages and hidden librarians’ rooms. She had dashed here to catch Melba Coombs, the head librarian, while the library was still open. Dinner would have to wait. Walking up to the front door and entering into a much smaller foyer with shorter ceilings, she decided she preferred the Old Library with all of its character and charm to the New.
The ladies met in Melba’s office on the third floor, a section of the New Library that had an additional storey for the administrative offices. Here the staff could think, meet, review books and processes, and do the cataloguing, all with no disturbance from the patrons on the first two floors or the groups that met in the basement community room, such as Brownies and Girl Scouts, crafting groups, Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts, small wedding receptions, kindergarten graduation ceremonies, or, on occasion, a town holiday committee.
“Your idea for a display of what it was like at the Old Library in the town’s early days is marvelous, Laura!” Melba beamed. “I even have a surprise for you: We have the actual card catalogue from the Old Library. They used it here until we got computers. It’s a bit dusty but can easily be cleaned up. I don’t know where the cards are anymore, though, because they were pulled from the drawers to enter the cataloguing information into the computers. I don’t know what they did with them afterwards. Everything else is all boxed up in a big storage room in the basement; nothing was thrown out. So we have microfilm reels showing all books that were in the Old Library before it moved and sign-out logs and other good stuff.”
“And I have photographs of the Old Library from the Web, and I plan to get more from Pickens Studio. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with the idea.”
“I’m more than okay with it. People should embrace their town’s heritage, and Raging Ford’s is so rich, and I don’t just mean the iron ore money. So much happened here. Our ancestors were bold and courageous!”
It was time for Laura to give Melba another boost.
“Do you remember Oscar Fulton who used to work at the Old Library?”
“I do. I got to know him rather well in his later years. It was sad when he passed away a few months ago. He was the one responsible for insisting we keep all the records. I know his son, Peter, too.”
“I was over at the house Peter is emptying out to sell. He had five boxes of old books that didn’t make the cut to the New Library when everything was transferred.”
Melba stared at her.
“We have a rare and antique book section here, although we’re beginning to run out of space. I would love to see those books. I presume you bought them from him, right?”
Laura nodded, smiling.
“And guess what I found in one of them.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense!”
“A handful of original library cards that belonged to actual patrons.”
“Oh, my gosh, Laura!” Melba cried. “I would give a fortune to have them in a permanent display here at the library. Or at least one we put out every summer for Heritage Days. What did you pay for them?”
“Practically nothing. Two dollars a box for the books. I’m happy to donate them to the library, but there’s one library card I want to keep.”
Melba looked the question.
“It belonged to Lorelei Rage,” Laura responded and waited for the memory to surface in Melba’s mind. It didn’t take long.
“Oh. The child who disappeared from the Old Library—one of Samuel Rage’s granddaughters. My goodness…that must have been about a hundred years ago. She was a distant relative of yours.”
Laura nodded.
“Of course, please keep that one for your family album or scrapbook. I will take anything else you want to donate! I can’t wait to get started.”
“I ask that you not share my discovery of Lorelei’s library card. I just wanted you to know about it. Do you have any lockable glass cases that we could put some of the items in? I mean for the library cards and sign-out pages.”
“We do and we can move some things around. Don’t you worry. When can you bring the books over?”
“How about Sunday?”
“That will work. We’re closed on Sundays during the summer, so no one will bother us. I’ll show you where the stuff in the basement is, and we can figure out what we want to include in the display. In the meantime, I’ll get with the staff on the best location for the exhibit and corral their ideas for making it interactive for the kids and interesting and fun. Thanks for bringing your suggestions and sketches.”
The ladies hugged each other then Laura headed back to the shop.
* * *
Connor’s SUV was parked in the loading dock behind Second Treasures.
Laura pulled in beside him, parked and walked up to his driver’s side window.
His attention was on his phone, but he looked up at her shadow and lowered the window.
“Did you have to wait long?” she asked.
“Nope. Got here a few minutes ago. How’d the library meeting go?”
“Come on inside and we’ll talk about it.”
In the kitchenette, Connor stood against the entrance door frame, reading his phone.
Laura realized how famished she was when the loudest growl she believed her stomach had ever produced made itself known.
Connor looked up from his phone.
“Miss dinner?”
“What gave it away?”
“I could have stopped and brought you something.”
“It’s okay. I’ll live. Want dessert? Oh, wait—you ate the last of the brownies yesterday.”
He grinned.
“I don’t need dessert. I like your desserts. Go get something to eat and then we can talk.”
While Laura made herself a quick sandwich, she spotted Connor’s right hand, now encased in white.
“You need to know the outline of the Heritage Days plans for each day of the Festival, so you can station your officers where they might be needed. The committee will have that nailed by next week and Bryce will get it to you. Oh, and I see you’ve begun the…uh…bet with Sven.”
He put his phone in his pocket.
“You should have seen his face when I walked in wearing the glove. Cracked up the whole station. He wrote down the exact time I walked in with the glove on, to the second, and put it up on the wall.”
“The incident board?”
“No, an informal notice wall. But it’s in bold, black marker so it can’t be changed.”
Laura chuckled, her mouth now full of sandwich. After she washed it all down with three big swallows of milk, she continued.
“Anybody tease you about looking like Mickey?”
“Nope. They all want to see Mortensen in the tank.”
Deadly Cost of Goods Page 5