by H. Duke
The harshness didn’t leave Janet’s voice. “I didn’t think you knew Mae that well. Well, hurry up. Whatever we don’t get to today, you’ll just have to figure out on your own. Like I said, I’m busy.” She stalked back out of the room, letting the heavy wooden door slam shut behind her.
“Jeez,” April said, still shocked. “What’d I do to her?”
Becky bit her lip. “Well, you got the job she’s wanted for years.”
Uh oh. Mae hadn’t mentioned that part. “Really?”
“Yep. She’s been talking about overseeing the Werner collection ever since she started working here. She was so sure she was going to get it once Mae retired. Everyone else thought she was going to get it, too.” Becky looked at April, an expectant expression on her face.
“What?” April asked.
“Nothing,” Becky said. “It’s just that Mae was very secretive about you. We all figured you must be from a big university library or something.”
“Uh, not exactly…” Before April could think of an answer that didn’t make her look like a total idiot, there was a knock on the door.
“Jeez, Janet,” Becky yelled. “What did I say? She’ll be out in a min—”
The door swung open, and a middle-aged woman stepped in. She was immaculately dressed, with a dark blue skirt suit and complementing pumps. Her blond hair framed her face in soft waves, as though she’d just come from a blowout at the salon. Her makeup and nails were equally flawless.
Becky stopped talking immediately. Instead, she started stuttering. She rose to her feet. “B-b-barbara,” she said. “I didn’t know it was—I m-mean, I thought—”
“It’s nice to see you again, Becky,” Barbara said. “Though I wish it was under better circumstances. Mae Jackson was a figure of some reputation in the library system, that’s for sure.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Barbara turned to April and extended her hand. “And you must be the new Special Collection Librarian,” she said. “I’m Barbara Simmons, director of operations for the entire Minneapolis public library system.”
April supposed she should have expected higher-ups to be coming in and out today. Taking her cue from Becky, April rose to her feet and shook Barbara’s hand. “It’s a pleasure,” she said.
“Likewise.” She smiled, and there was something calculating about that smile. Coupled with the nervous way Becky was acting, it wasn’t something that boded well. She needed to be wary of Barb Simmons.
Barb walked around and sat in the empty chair behind Mae’s desk. “Actually, in light of Mae’s death, you are one of the things I need to sort out today.”
“Me?” April asked, her heart sinking.
“Well, more accurately, the special collection position.” She glanced at Becky, who still stood nervously. “Becky, do you mind calling HR and having them fax over April’s file? I want to look at her test results.”
Becky’s face grew into a mask of confusion. “But she’s only been here a week—she hasn’t had time—”
“Becky,” Barbara said, her smile not falling even the littlest bit, “Now.”
Becky immediately stopped talking and left.
Barbara examined April’s face and clucked sympathetically. “I see that Mae’s death hit you hard,” she said. “How well did you know Mae?” She smiled, but April could sense there was a deeper meaning behind the statement, though she wasn’t sure what it was.
She chose her next words carefully. She could play the frenemy card, too. “You must think I’m such a drama queen,” she said. “I cry way too often. Even my grandma says so. I came in and saw how sad everyone was, and then I started to think how much Ms. Jackson must have loved this place to keep working while she was so sick, and well…” she let her eyes well up a little more, which wasn’t hard, considering how stressed she was. She could have told Barbara about Gram’s cancer, which at least was true, but the idea of giving Barbara that information made her sick.
One of Barbara’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Are you sure you didn’t know Mae outside of the library? Maybe she was a neighbor, or a family friend?”
April didn’t see where this line of questioning was leading. “No,” she answered honestly. “I met Mae for the first time at my interview last week.”
Barbara smiled. “That’s good. The library has strict rules about nepotism.”
She laughed, but April didn’t. Was this woman accusing her of breaking the rules? April was the first to admit that she didn’t belong there, but she’d been hired fair and square.
She felt a fiery reply forming in her mouth, but then she remembered the pile of bills waiting for her back home and swallowed it back down. Instead, she forced her mouth back into the shape of a smile. “I would expect nothing less.”
Barbara settled back in her chair. “I’ll be honest with you, April. The board has been flummoxed by Mae’s behavior for months. Even before we learned of her illness, certain members were convinced that her mental state had deteriorated considerably.”
April could tell by the way Barbara was talking that she was one of the members who believed this. Despite her physical state, Mae had seemed mentally sharp to April.
Barbara continued. “In light of her illness, several of her recent decisions are being called into question.”
April suddenly understood. She leaned back in her chair. “Including hiring me,” she said.
That same sympathetic smile came over Barbara’s face. “Yes. You see, now that she’s passed, the next person on the totem pole is set to take over her position. As of now, that’s you. But the board has put your employment in review. We have to reassess your credentials and decide if you’re truly fit for the position.”
By the look on her face, she’d already read over April’s resume and had decided that she wasn’t fit. Uh oh.
“How will you decide that?” April asked, trying not to let her nerves show through.
“There is a series of tests every librarian must take. It’s a piece of cake if you have experience working in a library, or a library science degree. As long as you pass that, you’ll be fine.” She paused. “Out of curiosity, where did you learn library science? There didn’t seem to be any college or related experience on your resume.”
“Well, uh, as I told Mae during my interview…” April trailed off, trying to think of something to say. She looked around the room for an idea. “Books,” she said.
“Books?”
“Yep. I learned everything I need to know from books. I have this philosophy that there’s no reason to pay thousands of dollars for information that I can get for free at the library.” Had that line came from some movie? She hoped Barb hadn’t seen it.
Barb leaned back in her chair again. “Wow. If you can give yourself an education like that just by reading books, no wonder Mae jumped at the chance to hire you. Since you seem to know your stuff, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind taking the tests.”
“What?” April said.
“The assessment tests. We usually wait a few months to administer them so that the employee gets a chance to get on their feet, but considering the present situation, we may need to accelerate things a bit. This collection contains items dating back thousands of years. We need to make sure that whoever is watching over it is fit for the job.”
April smiled back, but inside she was kicking herself. She was totally screwed. “When?” she asked, though she knew it didn’t matter. Despite what she’d said about learning from books, she knew she could never learn enough to pass the test, not even if she studied every day for months. Plus, when was the last time she’d read anything other than insurance forms?
“I was thinking tomorrow. You don’t even have to go to the HR building. I’ll bring the test here and administer it myself.”
April said nothing. Damn it. She might as well walk out now.
Seeming to catch onto her train of thought, Barb said, “Or, we could simply transfer you to a different position, one that doesn’t r
equire testing at all. That way we wouldn’t have to go through all these hoops. The only position currently open is for a library page, so the pay won’t be as good… but if you’re as smart as you say you are, you’ll work your way up in no time.”
April sat glumly. She’d looked at the ads for the page position the day she applied for the librarian job. It paid less than most fast food restaurants. But what choice did she have? If she took the test tomorrow, heck, even months from now, there was no way she’d be able to pass. She knew it, and Barbara knew it, too.
The office door opened, and Becky stuck her head in. “Here are her papers.” She handed over a stack of printer paper.
Barbara took the stack. Her smug smile fell away from her face as she scanned the page. “I thought you said you didn’t take the tests.”
“What?” April looked at the page. There were several test titles there, each with a percentage point next to them—most were between eighty-seven and ninety-five percent. Each one said PASSED in bold, capital letters.
April froze. She hadn’t taken any tests. But that wasn’t what the paper said.
She thought of the page job, and then about working with fast food. Then she thought about the pile of medical bills, and she made a decision.
“Oh!” she said, as though just realizing something. “You mean those tests? I didn’t realize those scores were being recorded.”
Barbara’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, Mae had a similar reaction when I told her I’d learned everything I knew about, library, library, uh—"
“library science,” Becky supplied helpfully from behind her.
“Exactly. Well, Mae was skeptical. She asked if I would mind taking a test to prove my aptitude. That must be the score you have there.”
Barbara narrowed her eyes. “Where did you take the exam?” she asked.
April thought for only a split second. She couldn’t say she took the tests downtown, because they might somehow be able to check. “Here. Mae had all the test materials.”
“What form did the test take?” Barbara asked.
“Multiple-choice. Scantron.” April held her breath, hoping her hunch was right.
Barbara put down the packet. “Well, this is highly irregular.”
April nodded, not sure if this was good or bad. “I know. When I took those tests, I never thought they’d be recorded.”
Barbara nodded. “Well, these are quite impressive numbers. Considering the circumstances, I think it’s best if you still retake the test tomorrow. That way we can be sure we’re doing everything correctly. Looking at your scores, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. Though my offer still stands.”
What was going on? Was it her imagination or was Barbara trying to hide the offer she’d made from Becky?
“But she already passed,” Becky said. “She shouldn’t have to take it again.”
Barbara threw a murderous glance at Becky, whose face immediately reddened. She looked down at the floor and fell silent.
“You’re right, Becky. I should speak with HR before I administer the test. We wouldn’t want to make April take it a third time, would we?” She laughed hollowly. “We know how infamously slow HR is in making decisions, so tomorrow is unlikely… but I can’t imagine it taking more than a week.” She stood and gathered her things. “You’ll hear from me soon.”
After she left, Becky watched her go through the opened blinds. She didn’t speak until she’d exited the double doors.
“Why do I get the feeling that she hates me as much as Janet?” April asked.
“Don’t take it personally,” Becky said. “It’s not you she hates, it was Mae. Barb wants to turn this floor into another computer lab and pulp everything but the valuable items.”
“But I thought that was part of the Werner guy’s will that all of his collection stays intact.”
“Some of the library board thinks there are loopholes to get around that. Mae always fought back. Barbara wants to get you out of here so Janet can take over. Janet’s always been sympathetic to the computer lab idea.”
April blinked. Why did Barb assume that she’d want to follow Mae’s wishes? Why would she care if they turned this place into a computer lab? As far as she’d seen, hardly anyone even came to the Werner Room. Then she remembered what Barbara had said about nepotism and shivered. She must think that Mae had hired her on purpose.
“If she wants to get rid of me, why doesn’t she just fire me?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“This building and the Werner collection were donated to the library by Oswald Werner in the 1950s. Werner also set up a large fund for the care of the building. There was one condition, though. Oswald appointed Mae as the first Special Collection Librarian. She couldn’t be fired, and she’s the only one who can choose her successor. If the city tried to fire her or her successor, the yearly check from the Werner fund would go away. So they’ve mostly just put up with it.”
“What? Why would Mae choose me?” Isn’t this something she should have been told?
Becky shrugged. “It’s been a huge pain in the city’s butt. Barb seems to think she can null the contract somehow by making you quit or proving your incompetent, or something.” She glanced sidelong at April. “So… did you really pass those tests, even though you’ve never been to school for library science?”
April didn’t want to lie to Becky. She seemed genuinely sweet. But then she thought of the pile of bills again.
“Yeah. I’m just really good at studying, I guess.” Of all the lies she’d told so far, this was the biggest one. She hated studying and books in general. She’d dropped out of college to take care of Gram, but she wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway.
“That’s good.” Becky didn’t look convinced. “Because Barb is serious about making you retake the test.”
April nodded, hoping she looked unfazed.
The door opened again. This time it was Janet. She was holding her purse and her jacket. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said curtly. “Because I’m going home. It’s your turn on the reference desk.”
April flinched. Before she could apologize, Janet turned on her heel and left.
“It’s okay,” Becky said, checking her watch. “I’m on the downstairs reference desk. Call on the walkie talkie if you have any questions. Andre will be doing his rounds, too.”
“Thanks.” April tried to smile. Part of her wished Becky would stop being so nice. It made her feel even worse about lying.
Luckily, the library wasn’t busy that night. She found a packet of training materials Janet printed out for her and felt a pang of guilt for sort-of blowing her off. She flipped through them, wondering if they would be helpful for the test.
April read each page of the packet carefully, then typed in all the links listed in the packet. She printed out each page that looked even remotely helpful.
After an hour or so, her head was swimming. She laughed, then sat back in her chair. Was she really going to try to fake this? She might as well just leave now. She ran her hands over her face.
“I see your day has gone about as well as mine.”
She looked up to see Andre leaning against the reference desk.
“The whole building’s talking about you. Is it true that you’ve never worked in a library before?”
April winced. Had Becky already started talking?
Andre laughed at her expression. “If you want something to stay secret, you shouldn’t tell it to Becky. She’s too sweet to know when she should keep something to herself.” He paused. “But if what she said is true, then I can see why Mae hired you. I can also see why Barb might be keen on getting rid of you.”
A man walked up, about graduate-student age. April put on her best librarian smile. Her first patron.
“Hello,” she said. “Are you finding everything all right?”
“I’m from the city colleg
e, and they say you have a first edition of Darwin’s Origin of Species?”
April’s mind drew a blank. Origin of Species? Did they?
“That’s out on the floor,” Andre said with a broad smile. “No special librarian escort needed. Let me walk you over. Let’s see, that’s Dewey decimal…” he continued to walk, and April sighed.
Dewey decimals. She vaguely remembered the term from school, but if she ever knew how the system worked, she didn’t anymore. Just one more thing on the list of stuff she needed to learn if she was going to pull this job thing off. She jotted down a note reminding herself to look up what Dewey decimal meant later. Then she threw down her pen. Who was she kidding? If Andre hadn’t been there, she would have been screwed with the Charles Darwin guy.
No, she told herself firmly. You can’t think like that. You need this job. Next time you’ll look the book up in the computer. You know how to do that. And if that doesn’t work, you’ll call Becky.
She sighed again, still not convinced of her ability to do this, but at least now she had a plan. She pulled up a search engine on the computer and typed in Dewey decimal.
She was so caught up in her studying that she didn’t even notice that someone new had entered the Werner Room and was standing in front of the reference desk.
“You’re not her.”
The words broke into her reverie. She looked up to find Randall, the man Mae had greeted on Friday. He held a stack of magazines. Following closely on his heel was Rex, the scruffy, sand-colored dog. Rex’s intelligent eyes were fixed on Randall.
“Hello, Randall,” she said after an uncomfortable silence where the man stared at her. “Can I help you find something?”
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m the special collection librarian,” she said with a smile, trying to sound like she believed it.
“No,” the man whispered. “You’re not.” Then his voice became suddenly loud. “You’re an imposter! Imposter!” The magazines fell from his hands and crumpled to the floor. He pointed a shaking finger in her direction. He started to repeat the word, yelling it. “Imposter! Imposter!”
Andre came running from the shelves. He approached Randall as though to restrain him but stopped when Rex reached up and pawed Randall’s leg. Randall looked down at the dog. He continued to mutter words that April couldn’t make out. Rex pawed at his leg until Randall lowered himself, cross-legged, to the floor. The dog climbed into his lap and allowed Randall to bury his face in the fur at the scruff of his neck.