Overcoming the Death Rattle

The library hums and clicks and clacks with the speed of time. Technology has replaced what came before; a baby's cry overcoming the death rattle. Yet we pretend these things are not so because who could replace us? Does being replaced mean we do not, have never, mattered?

     "I think the teenagers are trying to fuck in the copy room again," Brenda said as she approached the reference desk.

     I said, "Did you tell them to stop?"

     Brenda put a hand on her hip. "I told her to not sit on the table. They still had their clothes on, though."

     "I'll tell Patty to stay around that area. Shelve."

     "Think that'll stop them?"

     "Maybe delay. That's why we put the cookbooks over there anyway. They always need straightening."

     Brenda gave a "humph." 

     "Unless you want to."

     "You use that Google yet?" she said with the same air of someone smelling a fart.

     "The search engine?"

     "No. The thing that gives you answers. Talks to you?"

     "AI? Artificial intelligence?"

     "Sounds like a stupid thing a sailor would say."

     I smiled. "Yeah. I've played with it. Had it write some code for the website. That new calendar with the tabs, it cleaned that up some. And the statistics for last month, it did those."

     "You have it watching the door counts?" Brenda said. Her gaze went up to the small camera that watched the reference desk and the stairs through a fish eye.

     "I put the spreadsheet in and asked it for counts," I said. "Had to narrow down what I wanted, but it did well."

     "That's stupid. I got a calculator from 1985 can do that."

     "Well, it's only as stupid as the person asking the question."

     "And they unleashed that on the world," Brenda said, shaking her head.

     A man with a permanent grimace stomped his way to the reference desk. "Y'all got large print books?" he asked.

     "Sure," I said, and pointed to the sign over my right shoulder and the dozen stacks with the words "Large print" written on each edge.

     "Those large print audio books up here?" he said.

     "Put that in your Google," Brenda said. "I'm gonna go load the shotgun and stock up on canned goods."

     I worked with the man for a few minutes to find what he wanted, assuring him that all audio books could have their volumes adjusted. He was angry to find we had thrown out the cassette audio books over a decade before, however.