The Library

Now Open!

Bill had put that sign up. He had built it, like he had built me, and taped it up against my

window. It was a huge sign – something that can be seen for miles in any direction – which was

absolutely not needed. I was one of the tallest buildings put in this town, and I can see exactly

where the lines ended.

This worried me; what if no one came to me? What if no one wanted to visit?

But Bill reassured me that it was fine, we would be fine. We would have plenty of

guests.

And he was right.

Not even five minutes passed after Bill had put that sign up did someone enter my front

door, ring that little bell. I could feel their curiosity as soon as they stepped past my threshold. It

excited me; I could feel the stacks and shelves lining my walls quake when I forced them to

calm. While they were walking around so painstakingly slow, I watched and felt some more

guests enter through the door. I couldn’t hold in my gasp-

The guests looked right and left; Bill patted the walls and told them calmly, She’s just

settling.

That made me happy. Settling. Like in the book by Mary Guillory in aisle four, third

shelf from the floor, how the main character was settling into his new town. And like that other

set of stories by James Brown, where each character settled into their new lives after being taken

from their old homes. Settling. I was settling into my new home now.

I was so lost in thought that I almost didn’t notice when Bill waved that first customer

goodbye, and she was walking out the door – I strained my eyes to find, which books did she

take, which ones-

Ah. Hiding Out in Broadway by Rachel Kaye Packer. Aisle one, first shelf down from

the ceiling. Probably the first book she laid eyes on. I quieted my hum of thought: maybe she

was curious about all the stories and couldn’t pick one, so she grabbed the first thing she saw? I,

on the other hand, would have picked that book in aisle seven, shelf two-

I felt a shift and Bill grabbed that book right off the shelf. I saw a flash of gold lettering

on that brown leather spine – A Home in the Library – and he handed it to the other guest

speaking to him. Bill clapped the man on the back and nodded encouragingly. He praised the

book.

The lights over his head shined a tad bit brighter. Bill knew me so well.

The day passed sort of like that; I would watch and wait for whoever would enter next,

watch as Bill would take care of them as he had me, and wave them goodbye as they left with

their new favorite story. By the end of the day, when it was almost Bill’s turn to leave, I was

filled with so much happiness the gas lights flickering above his head was about to burst.

And so it was like that for a long time. Bill would come to wake me early in the morning

but find me already ready for the day. I could hardly sleep at night; I was ready for the next

customer to come filled with excitement and curiosity. Bill would tell me I helped them escape

from reality. I liked it when he said that, though I didn’t really know what he meant.

The days turned into years. Different seasons came and went, and I got new books to fill

my shelves. Bill was changing, too, getting old like me. It seemed like when a new creak was

discovered in my floor, a new stiff limb appeared on my friend. It comforted me to know that

we were in this together.

It was another glorious day like that, with a bright Sun shining clearly onto my roof,

when I waited for Bill to arrive.

Except he did not.

I figured he had another one of those stiff limbs and he would be slow coming to stay for

the day. So I waited.

And waited.

...And waited.

...And still, Bill did not come.

Customers came to stop by the door, to peek into the windows, but I had to turn them

away. Maybe tomorrow, Bill would come and tell me he was feeling under the weather.

But the next day came, and Bill did not.

Again, the seasons started to pass. And still, Bill did not come.

Soon, I grew tired. I didn’t bother to keep my shelves dusted, to keep my lights on. I

allowed myself to slowly sink down, like I had seen Bill’s back do.

I allowed myself to fall into a deep, deep sleep.

There you are, girl. I was hoping you would be here.

Hearing that voice, I opened my eyes and saw him, new and young, like when he first

built me. And I rose, feeling myself as light as when I was first built, too.

Bill had come.

And I was happy.