by H. Duke
After a few minutes they returned to the staircase. April looked around as she waited. She’d been here for the interview but had been too nervous to assess the place. The staircase emerged onto a small hallway, a set of double doors directly across from it. On a small brass plaque over the top were the words “Werner Room.” There were more doors further down the hallway, but they were all closed.
Once Mae made it up over the top of the stairs, she leaned against the banister. April waited as she caught her breath. After a few minutes, she managed to point to the mystery doors down the hallway and wheeze, “Those first three are private study rooms. The rest of the floor is used for storage.”
April followed her into the Werner Room. She gestured to the office she’d been interviewed in. “We’ll share my office for the time being. You’ll spend most of your time out on the reference desk, anyway.”
April nodded to show that she was fine with that. Across the room Andre was walking between the shelves of books. He waved, and she waved back. Of all the rooms, this one seemed to have been remodeled the least. It was almost like stepping back in time a hundred years. While the books downstairs were all new, the ones on these shelves were mostly bound in leather or faded cloth. There were only two rows of bookshelves, about ten shelves in each, on either side of the room. Between them was a row of heavy wooden tables and chairs. The wall opposite the double doors contained the room’s most striking feature: three stained-glass windows. Each was nearly arched, with the sides of the arch meeting in a dull point at the top. A flying buttress, she thought the shape was called.
Only one of the tables was occupied. A black man sat there, a medium-sized dog the color of sand lying at his feet. Mae didn’t seem to find anything wrong with the dog being there, so April didn’t mention it.
Mae waved to the man. “Hey, Randall. Rex.” The dog stood so she could pat his head.
“Hey, Mae,” Randall said. He didn’t acknowledge April. He lifted the book he’d been reading. “I started that book you recommended.”
April tuned out while Mae and Randall talked about the book. After a few minutes Mae turned away from him and gestured to the rear of the room where there was a small door.
“That’s the vault,” Mae said. “Out here we have the books that can handle the public pawing at them. Back there is where the valuable and fragile items are kept.”
“Like what?” April asked.
“Papyrus scrolls, tablets, Shakespearian manuscripts—that kind of thing. All donated to the library by Oswald Werner. The main branch would love to steal them right out from underneath of us, but it was in his will that the collection must not be moved or separated.”
Just then, a resounding gong filled the room. April looked around for the source of the noise—a large grandfather clock stood against the corner of the east wall, near the right-most stained-glass window. The clock chimed twice more. The sound hung in the air for several seconds before fading completely.
“That old clock was another gift from the Werner estate,” Mae said. “Chimes every hour, on the hour. Soon you won’t even notice it.”
She laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. She pulled an old handkerchief from her pocket and pressed it against her mouth. When she pulled it away, April saw a spot of red.
“Ms. Jackson, I—”
“Mae.”
“Mae… you don’t seem to be feeling well. Are you sure you don’t want to go home and rest? I could drive you.” Or maybe go to a doctor, she added silently.
Mae smiled. “This is my home, dear. Couldn’t think of a single place I’d rather be. I’ll admit I am a little tired… it’s been a while since my days have had as much excitement as you. I was going to show you the vault where the special items are kept, but I think that can wait for Monday. Why don’t we send Janet home and get you trained on the reference desk?”
April nodded. She’d noticed Mae’s evasiveness, of course, but what else could she say? She’d tried. She couldn’t force Mae to go home… or to the hospital, which was most likely what she needed.
They spent the next few hours on the reference desk, Mae showing April how to check out materials, access the catalog and reference databases, and create library cards. She warned that many of the questions she’d get would be academic in nature.
“Downstairs it’s mostly, ‘where’s this book?’ and ‘what’s this fine for?’ and ‘I lost my library card.’ Up here, it’s different. Most who come up here are scholars, or people who want to see the artifacts in the back room. They can be seen by appointment only, pending approval by a special collection librarian.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “That’s you and me.”
The color had returned to Mae’s cheeks, and April started to think she’d overreacted to Mae walking up the stairs. She’d made it, hadn’t she? Andre had been right.
Several hours later the walkie talkie at the reference station buzzed, and Andre’s voice came through, slightly warped by static. “Fifteen minutes to close,” he said. “Are you all ready to shut this baby down and head home?”
The walkie buzzed repeatedly as the LAs and downstairs staff buzzed their affirmation.
“Do all the reference desks have walkie talkies?” April asked.
Mae nodded. “The reference desks, the welcome desks, the vault, the conference room, and the break room. With such a large building, we need to be able to communicate.”
April looked at her watch—it was only eight fifteen. “I thought the library closed at ten?” she asked. “I mean, we’re scheduled until then, right?”
“The library closes at eight thirty,” Mae said. “The rest of the staff goes home then, but we stay until ten.”
“Why?” April asked. She’d much prefer to go home early.
“As special collection directors, we have… special duties in caring for the collection.”
“Oh. So what are the special duties?”
“We’ll get to that after close,” Mae said. “It’s something that’s better seen than explained.”
What did that mean, and why couldn’t they do it while the library was open?
With some effort, Mae stood. “At the end of the night, it’s our job to secure the Werner Room and make sure all the patrons have left. Andre will check the storage area and study rooms down the hall. Why don’t you walk around and check tonight? I’ll meet you back at my office.”
April nodded, glad to have something to do while Mae hobbled towards her office. She walked through the stacks, checking all the corners and the hidden alcoves. Then, she did the rounds again. Halfway through, she noticed that Mae had stopped to talk to Randall. The next time she came back, Randall was gone and Mae was almost to her office.
Andre walked into the room. “All clear?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“Great. So’s the downstairs. I’ll see you ladies on Monday.” He flicked off the lights.
She waved goodbye to him, ignoring how creepy the library was with only the glow of the security lights. There had never been a lot of people inside, but now it seemed absolutely deserted.
She entered Mae into the office just in time to see Mae collapse into the big wooden chair. She looked to be in even worse shape than she had been in when she climbed the stairs.
“They… all… gone?” she asked, wheezing between each word.
April couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Mae, you really don’t sound well. I think you should go to the hospital.”
“It’s too late for that, child,” Mae said. “I’m dying.”
“What?”
“Stage… four… lung cancer,” Mae said. “Suffocating… from inside… out. Can you… believe it?” She laughed, and the laughter quickly devolved into a coughing fit.
With alarm, April took in Mae’s appearance. Had her skin looked so blue last week, or even that morning? Had the tips of her fingers been clubbed like that? How had she not noticed? She reached for the desk phone. “I’m calling an ambulance,” she sa
id.
With surprising cat-like reflexes, Mae grabbed her wrist. It seemed to take all the effort she had left. “No… time… need to tell… what happens at… nine…”
“You can tell me on Monday, when you’re feeling better,” April said, though she knew in her heart that that wasn’t likely. Mae wouldn’t be back to work on Monday—she’d be lucky if she wasn’t still in the hospital.
“No…” Mae said, but her voice was fading, and her grip on April’s wrist loosened as she fell unconscious. April dialed 911 and waited for the ambulance while listening to Mae’s ragged breathing.
~~~
She woke up the next morning with a feeling of dread in her stomach before she remembered the events of the previous night. The ambulance had arrived within ten minutes, but they hadn’t let her ride to the hospital, since she wasn’t related to Mae. Unsure what else to do, she’d called Andre. He’d told her he’d take care of it, and that she should go home and get some sleep.
Yeah, right. She’d lain awake long enough to see the first rays of sun streak across the sky. She checked her watch. After nine. She groaned. Gram wouldn’t approve of her oversleeping.
She checked her phone. Andre had sent her a text message a little after five in the morning. Mae in ICU. In bad shape.
After deliberating for a moment, she dialed Andre’s number. The phone rang only a few times before he answered. He sounded tired.
“They won’t let us in to see her because we’re not family. They say she hasn’t woken up yet. We have to wait for visiting hours—that starts at ten. Becky and Janet are here.”
April felt a pang of guilt. “Should I come?”
“That’s not necessary. You didn’t know her well, and even with the three of us, it might get a little crowded in the room.” He paused, then added hastily, “If you want to come tomorrow you can.”
April appreciated his attempt to make her feel included, but she was relieved. She didn’t belong at the hospital. She barely knew Mae. “Have you called her family?”
“As far as we know, she doesn’t have any. No kids, no husband. Her emergency contact information is over forty years old. I tried to call the number, but it was disconnected. I guess the library really was her life.”
April bit her lip. “I should have spoken up sooner,” she said. “I knew something was wrong, but…”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Mae’s always been stubborn,” he said. “I guess the rest of us just got used to it. That must be why you’re the only one who noticed.”
After hanging up, April stuck her head into her pillow and screamed. She didn’t even hear the door open, only Gram’s voice.
“Lazing about in bed?” Gram said.
April looked up at Gram. She was dressed in a tracksuit, a headband keeping her short hair from clinging to her forehead. It was just like her to get up early and go for a run before April even woke up. When Gram saw her face, her face shifted from a look of admonishment to one of concern.
“Honey, you look terrible,” she said. “Did something happen?”
April explained the previous night’s events.
“Oh, honey! You should have woken me up!” she rubbed April’s back. “No family? That poor woman.” She shook her head. “Do you want to skip our shopping trip today?”
April shook her head. “I need new work clothes for Monday,” she said. Anyway, it would take her mind off things.
“Well, then. I’ll let you get dressed.” She walked towards the door, then turned around. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you did good, hon. You saved that woman’s life. Just like you saved mine by taking care of me.”
April nodded weakly, but she had to force the smile on her face. She didn’t feel like she did a good thing. She felt like she’d failed.
It wasn’t until early Sunday morning that she got the text message from Andre: Mae passed away late last night. Just thought you should know before you head into work tomorrow. Thanks for all you did.
Chapter 3
“I can’t believe she didn’t tell anyone she was sick,” Becky said.
April, Andre, and Becky sat in the plastic chairs of the employee break room on the first floor. April hadn’t been inside before. It must have been the kitchen when the building used to be a home.
Andre shook his head. “I can. She wouldn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her. Anyway, she didn’t have any family. This place was her life. Can you blame her for wanting to spend as much time as possible here?”
“HR couldn’t find any next of kin?” April asked.
Andre shook his head. “She was an only child, both her parents passed decades ago. No children, no spouse. Her emergency contact appears to be an old live-in boyfriend, but the number was disconnected years ago.”
“It’s good you all were there at the end,” April said. The hospital staff had looked the other way when they realized that Mae didn’t have any family.
“It was so weird,” Andre said. “She was kind of going in and out of it. She’d wake up and ask what time it was, then she’d fall back asleep. The cycle repeated every hour. It was like she was waiting for something. A few minutes after nine she got very agitated. She asked to use my cell phone to make a call. She asked for privacy, so we left the room. I couldn’t make out what she was saying through the door. When we went back in, she was…” he trailed off with a shaky breath, and Becky started crying.
“So she did have someone,” April said. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“That’s the thing,” Andre said. “After she passed, I checked the number. I thought maybe it was a relative or friend who would want to make arrangements. But…” he looked first at Becky, then April. “I recognized the number. It’s the extension for the third-floor reference desk.”
“Here? But the library would be empty at that time, right?” April said.
“Yeah. She wasn’t in her right mind. Lack of oxygen will do that.” Andre shook his head and stood. “I’m going to make a round. I’ll have the walkie talkie if you need me.” He left.
“He’s right.” Becky blew her nose again, then glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Crap. I don’t know if I can handle storytime today.” she gave April a sympathetic look. “Some first week, huh?”
April breathed out. “No kidding. I just wish I had acted sooner. Maybe…”
Becky waved her hand, silencing her. “Don’t even go there. You did all you could. Mae knew about her illness and she chose not to tell anyone. Now, you go upstairs. I’ll come up and check in on you after storytime.” Then she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “If they don’t eat me alive first…”
The Werner Room was nearly empty. She nodded to the library assistant sitting at the reference desk against the far wall. Janet, her name was. Janet nodded curtly back.
April entered the office and closed the door behind her, slumping against it the moment it clicked shut. She glanced around Mae’s office. Unlike the cubicles that served as the offices for the rest of the library staff downstairs, which were modern and made of cork board and Velcro, everything in here was fashioned from sturdy, aged wood. In fact, the entire Werner Room didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the library at all. If it weren’t for the fancy climate-controlled vault, she’d feel like she walked up the spiral staircase and gone back in time a hundred years. The only modern features were a desktop computer and a safety-glass window that looked out into the Werner Room. The window made her feel like she was sitting in a fishbowl—luckily, there were blinds she could close if she wanted.
The office felt smaller than it really was, due to the large volume of things in it. Each wall was lined with large bookshelves. The only bit of visible wall was above and below the window that overlooked the parking lot behind the desk—and every surface was piled with books, folders, and loose paper.
She sunk down into one of the padded chairs in front of the desk, her head in her hands. She was totally screwed.
For some reason M
ae had taken a chance on her, and it had been April’s shot at turning things around. Mae had promised to tell her everything she needed to know, but now the others would soon figure out she had no right to be there. She didn’t know the first thing about being a librarian. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
“Hello?”
April looked up quickly. Becky stood in the doorway. April hadn’t even heard the door open.
Not knowing what else to say, April said lamely, “Has it been an hour already?” It felt like a matter of minutes.
Becky ignored her question and sat in the chair next to her. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, “I didn’t realize that you’d gotten that close to Mae!” she put her hand on her shoulder.
“It’s not that,” she said, then realizing how callous that sounded, she said, “I mean, it’s partially that, but… my grandma has cancer. Had it, I mean. She’s in remission now, but…” April hated using Gram’s cancer as an excuse, but she couldn’t tell Becky the real reason she was upset. It would make her look like a jerk.
“That’s awful!” Becky said. “This must be so hard for you, especially after Friday night.”
Becky patted her shoulder sympathetically, and April wondered if she should admit that she knew nothing about working in the library. It would be a relief to get the information off her chest.
Then she thought about the phone calls from the collection agency. It would be stupid to leave. If they were going to fire her, then so be it—but she wasn’t going to do their dirty work for them. Anyway, she might as well get paid until then.
The door to the office opened, revealing Janet, the library assistant who worked the third-floor reference desk during the day.
“Hi, Janet,” April said, trying to smile through her tears. “It’s nice to see—”
“You’re scheduled to be out on the reference desk with me,” she said curtly. “I’m supposed to train you. Everyone else may think your time is more important than mine, but I have things to do. I can’t reschedule.”
April’s mouth fell open. “I, uh—”
“She’ll be out in a minute, Janet,” Becky said. Her sweet tone had become biting enough to match Janet’s. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”