Copy Runner

     The large case dropped to the library carpet. The man looming over it pulled out a strange looking identification card from his dark blue peacoat and asked the circulation librarian, "Where is the copier?"

     Circ pointed to the little alcove. The man hefted the case and went to work.

     Inside the case, the man pulled four items. One was a box. The second was wires that connected to the box and the copy machine's input ports. The third was a small origami turtle. He placed the turtle upside down on the glass of the copier. The fourth was a small thermos that smelled like peppermint.

     The man pulled up a chair, sat, and stared at the copier. The copier stared back.

     "My name is Leland Ford. I am the copier technician assigned to you. Do you understand?" the man said.

     Two lights hidden in small depressions on the box blinked.

     "Good. Seems like you don't like your toner. Why is that?"

     More lights. Ford nodded.

     "This is a library. They can not afford changing it before the cartridge is empty."

     The lights grew agitated. The copier spat out a few pages.

     "Same answer. The paper is the quality they budget for. Might not be the best, but it helps get people what they want."

     No lights.

     "Have you scanned the turtle?"

     One light.

     "What happens if I turn the turtle around? Can you scan it then?"

     Ford reached for the small origami piece. The lights on the machine began to flash in erratic motions. Paper spat from the output tray. Deep inside, gears turned and paper trays raised and lowered. The control panel flashed bright red while coins fell from the box.

     The small alcove began to smell of acrid burning metal and plastic. Ford sighed and stood, pulling a small pistol from his pocket. The copy machine began to shake and rattle, lurching almost forward. 

     Ford shot. A blast of red angry energy left the pistol and struck the copy machine's power cord. Disconnected from energy, the machine lurched and stumbled, its parts seeking what was no more. 

     Ford collected his tools and told the circulation librarian that he would request a replacement copy machine for the library. When asked what was wrong, if they could have done more, Ford simply said, "We could all do more, but sometimes it's not enough."  

Super Origami

The circulation desk had not seen a patron for over an hour. Circulation decided to use the time to check in the book drop, asking Childrens to keep an eye out. When Circ got back, Childrens was folding little paper animals.

     "Did you see the new Super Mario Movie?" Circulation asked.

     Childrens held up a paper turtle, saying, "No. I can't."

     "We had fun with it. It's silly and has a lot of references to the games. I guess it would have to though. What do you mean you can't?"

     "I do not believe in abusing mushrooms," Childrens said.

     "Oh, well, I guess I get that. Like psychedelics?"

     "No, no, no. Noooo. I'm on those right now." Childrens waved a paper squid in the air.

     "So, physically?" The book dorp was forgotten.

     Childrens ate the paper squid, slowly chewing it to a wet pulp. "Do not hurt the fungus for the Forest Queen lives among us."

     "How about you fold those in the back? Or go home?"

     Childrens held up a paper dragon. "How about that?" The dragon fell to the carpet. Childrens cried "Wah-hoo" and jumped up and down on the origami before running through the staff door.

Tour of the Building

Welcome to the Banned Library! We talk a lot here about our little adventures in, around, and far from the building, but we never talk about the building itself. Today we will fix that. First, let's start with the history of the place then a small tour.

History

     The first library in town was a small shack behind a butcher shop named "Pigs N Stuff." The butcher's wife, Mable Abrams, was an avid reader and collector of books. She would loan them out to the locals and to the school becoming our first town librarian.

     Around 1892, our prosperous little town commissioned the first charter for a public library. The five prominent families (Abrams, Carpenter, Davies, Roche, and Pittman) raised the majority of the money for the initial building on Second Street. This building burned to the ground in 1896 after the unnamed librarian drunkenly left a fire burning in the fireplace one cold December night.

     The next building also burned in 1899. 

     The town then decided to build out of stone. The Carpenter family held funds until the others agreed to erect a six-story tower along with the new three story building with basement. The tower, still the tallest structure in town, acted as a fire and tornado watch, and the library itself as a shelter.

     Major renovations were made in the 1950s, completed in 1956. The library expanded to twice the size as well as updated with modern plumbing, electrical, elevator, and air conditioning. Various improvements have been made since but the structure itself has remained the same.

First floor

     Walking in the library, you see on your left the circulation station cut into the wall separating staff workspace and the public space. The circulation and technical services workroom, staff bathroom, and loading dock are beyond. This left side of the building, still called the new part by some, is the addition made above and below.

     To the right, tables and chairs are laid out in the magazine area. The rounded wall and stained glass windows are the base of the tower with the wall now open space. The children's and teen department fills the rest of the first floor with ample shelving.

    An elevator, stairs, and public restroom are in the center far wall. Please use the public gender-neutral restroom before we continue as it is the only restroom in the building open to the public.

Basement

     Let's go down the steps to the basement. The most updated public area in the building, the basement houses the computer lab of twenty public workstations and a printer. We chose the basement for the lab because the heat in the summer months can be too much in the rest of the building.

     The three other double doors house our tech department, storage, and the plumbing and air conditioning units of the building.

Second Floor

     A quick elevator ride to the second floor puts us walking a small path to the Fiction section. Through the double doors on the left side of the building are a meeting room with kitchen where classes and large summer reading programs are held. The center of the second floor is open to view the first floor with two paths leading to the nonfiction section, reference desk, and small table area.

Attic

     The stairs by the reference desk lead down to the first floor and up to an attic area. This space is closed to the public and mostly acts as storage due to heat. The attic space was not expanded with the rest of the building during the renovation and no ventilation was added although it does have electricity (when it works).

Tower

     The Carpenter Tower stands at six stories. Access is gained through the attic, and a spiral staircase leads to two landings and a viewing platform at the top. Like the attic, the tower is closed to the public due to heat and lack of ventilation. Temperatures at the higher levels can reach up to 120 degrees (48 degrees Celsius) in the summer months. However, scientists and others still use the viewing platform for weather instruments, other experimentation, and observation.

     And that's our building! Please come down and visit and feel free to ask any questions to our staff.

Ain't no barb

Sometimes the perfect candidate comes through the door. They fit. They fit the description of the job. The education requirements. The experience. References that would make you slap your director. The pants interview is the only hurdle.

     For those not aware, a pants interview is when you are so impressed with someone on paper that you decide to meet them to make sure they wear pants. Or whatever appropriate clothing covers their bathroom bits. Because people can be great on paper and complete psychos in person.

     One time, long ago, I hired someone to drive our bookmobile. Former driver at Greyhound for twenty years, CDL on hand, and just a really nice guy on the phone. Hired him right away to come in part time and drive around the children's librarian on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Saturday. He showed up with a parrot who screamed "Ain't no barb like Barbara's hooks in me" at random intervals. On his first day out, the parrot attacked the children's librarian while they were on route to the Children's Daylily School.

     She quit, and he was let go.

     So today we have our third interview, the last applicant, and this is a true pants interview.

     No pants, but a lovely floral skirt with a white top and a cardigan over. She was five minutes early and read to a small child while waiting. She did voices. The circulation librarian and I watched and waited for them to finish.

     Circ said, "Jesus, are cartoon deer gonna come out of the stacks so she can feed them by hand?"

     "I think we found her," I said.

     "Got her MLIS at University of Michigan. Was in the Peace Corps for two years. Ran the children's library at St. Anthony of Padua Children's Hospital. Started a reading program for blind… I can't tell if I'm impressed or gonna vomit."

     "She's the one."

     Circ raised an eyebrow. "Then why the hell does she want us?"

     In the interview, Circ repeated her question.

     Three said, "Well, I think something called me here. I'm not very religious, kind of a student of all faiths, but I believe in a guiding force that calls us to action."

     "So you read our job placement in the penny saver and came on down?" Circ said.

     Three said, "I think it was on the state commission website."

     "What she means is, what makes you want to be a children's librarian?" I said trying not to blow the one good thing to happen all week.

     Three took a breath, then smiled. "I just love helping kids find what makes them special. All kids are special and deserve to find that right thing, you know? What makes them light up like a lightning bug. That thing that will attract others to them, not because of what they have but because they deserve love and happiness."

     "Bless your heart," Circ said.

     I almost kicked Circ under the table. The interview kept on going, two, three, then all six questions. By the end even Circ warmed. Three had the job before she walked in, but by the end I was doubting if I was capable enough to be a librarian.

     We walked her to the door. I found myself struggling not to wave goodbye as she walked down the sidewalk. She stopped to smell a flower blooming through a crack.

     "She's gonna do great here," I said.

     Circ said, "She's gonna do great when she quits this place in two years. We never did ask why she was unemployed."

     Three reached the corner and stepped into the street. At that moment a bus came rolling around the corner. Three let out a small scream we could hear just over the sound of the air brakes and tires sliding over hot asphalt.

     "Oh my god," Circ said.

     I sighed. "Call the ambulance. Then call Two and tell them they got the job."

     I opened the door and stepped out just in time to see the bus driver leaving his seat. The parrot on his shoulder screamed, "Ain't no barb like Barbara's hooks in me."

We'll be in touch

Preparation. Some people say that if you prepare hard enough you can accomplish anything. In my experience in libraries, something is always waiting in the dark corner to destroy all your best laid plans. 

     Prepare for a dozen teens at a game night? Enter the 28-year-old man child who wants to get down on a Smash Tournament.

     Lovingly set out a movie night for a retirement home? Granma Gammy is gonna light into you because the main character said "fart."

     Try to do a job interview for a children's librarian? The candidate will come with a binder.

     "I've been looking around the library for the last two months, and I have some ideas," the second interviewee said.

     "Uh huh," the circulation librarian said.

      I said, "We have a few questions first, but if you would like to share at the end-" 

     The sentence crashed against a solid wall of enthusiasm. Second said, her red hair waving around like electrified copper, "First, you need a manga section. I know, you have a small collection of about a hundred, but I talked to the teens and you are missing some serious runs."

     "Uh huh," Circ said, looking over Second's application. From what I could tell she was on page four of six.

      Second said, "And the bookmobile! It's just sitting out there. Not once in two months has it moved."

     "Well, the alternator went out. And we think the interior lights are dead, and we need those to run it successfully," I said. "What do you think is your most desirable trait when working with people?"

     "I bet I can get my cousin to give you a good price on car repair. He might ask for something, but he's good for it," Second said.

     Circ sucked on her teeth. "You got your MLIS at University of Alabama?"

     "Roll tide," Second said.

     I decided to let Circ continue.

     She did. "Your mama Virginia?"

     "She is."

     "You know I grew up with Ginny. I probably shouldn't be in this interview. Didn't know you were Ginny's girl."

     "I'm not 'Ginny's girl.' Not since she went off."

     "You ever hear from her? You or your daddy?"

     "Don't care to."

     "What do you think of organizing nonfiction by subject?"

     "Good for a bookstore, bad for a library unless you got a robust circulation system. You don't, but you could get by on some more dynamic displays, end caps, and outfacing materials."

     Circ nodded. "You do funny voices?"

     "Yes, ma'am." Second peeled through a half dozen cartoon characters.

     Circ turned to me. Raised her eyebrows. 

     I said, "Great, well, this has been fun. Thank you very much for coming in, and we'll be in touch."

Light the Torch for the Library

The trick to interviewing is to make sure you are not being interviewed. Sitting there, the person on the other side of the table or screen wants to know why they should work with you. You, on the other hand, just want to fill a hole with the least incompetent person you can find.

     Someone who will not burn the building down at the first sign of stress.

     Our first applicant to the children's librarian position walked in with a torch already lit. 

     "It's my coping torch," he said sitting in the library conference room holding a flaming stick.

     The circulation librarian said, "That's about all I need to know."

     "We accept your need and hope you feel supported," I said. "Are you ready to begin?"

     "I've been waiting for an hour," First said.

     Circ looked at her watch. "It's early for the interview."

     "I was waiting," First said.

     "Let's get started," I said. "What do you feel you would bring to the position?"

     "I don't understand," First said.

     Circ said, "What the director means is, why are you here?"

     "I want a job."

     "Can you elaborate?" I said.

     "What does that mean?"

     "Just tell us about the torch," Circ said.

     First cleared his throat and looked to the burning flame. "When I was a boy, I found joy in the flames. The way they lick and spit. The way they dance in the darkness. My mother would hand me a torch every night and say, 'Edgar, don't you let this light go out or Satan will find us.' That was before she left. I would never let it go out as a boy. Then I grew up. Mother and sister and other sister left. But the torch. The fire. They stayed."

     "Well, shit," Circ said. 

     "Do you require the torch at all times?" I said.

     First said, "I do not."

     "Do you think you would be comfortable not having it while walking around the stacks?" I said.

     "The stacks?" First said.

     "The rows and rows of paper on hundred year old wooden shelves that would go up like kindling if you ate Flaming Hot Cheetos in them."

     "Oh, no, that sounds very stressful. I would need my torch among the books to scare away the snorts."

     "The snorts?" Circ said.

     "Satan's friends."

     "Of course. Well, I don't have any more questions. Director Harker?"

     I glanced at the list of six questions. We were supposed to each take three. By the light of the torch, they seemed so small and worthless. "I'm good. Thank you for coming in, Edgar."

     The torchbearer left us. 

     I said, "That was one of the emails."

     "Think he typed it one handed?"

Now Accepting Applications

How do you build a library? For some, the building of a library happens by accident one book at a time. For a town it comes from need. Space, knowledge, entertainment, a library solves these community issues. Of course, there is always one bastard that knows how to build a library better than others.

     "You need a children's librarian," the board member said.

     I said, "We are looking into hiring one."

     "Look harder. Kids need story time."

     I wanted to tell the man that story time had not left us. The circulation librarian had been doing as well as she could every Tuesday and Thursday and sometimes just when she wanted to. She would just sit down and start reading.

      The board member said, "I've heard complaints from others about how things are going."

      "What kind of complaints?" People always complained to the people with the will but without the power. 

     "Was there a story time about dressing up in costumes?" 

     "It was very popular," I said not knowing what he was talking about.

     "A real children's librarian would not have let that happen. Maybe a real director wouldn't either," he said and left, knowing a dramatic exit line when he said it.

     I made my way to where the Circ was slowly tearing pages from a book. Each page made a slow rasping that sent shivers up my spine. One page and another, a gentle destruction. Circ held a page in two fingers after relieving the book and blew on it. The paper danced.

     "What are you doing?" I asked.

     Circ dropped the page into the trash and said, "Weeding."

     "Huh. Did you do a story time about costumes?"

     "Yep. Day before last Tuesday sometime. We read 'The Emperor Is a Naked Bastard,' and I sang a song for the flesh. Then three members of the Endless Parade held the stage."

     "The burlesque troupe?"

     "Oh, ST, they were lovely."

     "Okay. Right. Have you heard from anyone for the children's librarian yet?"

     Circ said, "I emailed you two that came in online. Then one came in off the street and filled out a paper application. I left that on your desk. Another called, but he said we were too close to a school."

     "Will you be free next week to do interviews?"

     She looked me in the eye. "I am always free."

     Back in my office, I looked over the paper application. Our employment applications are standard four pages. First two pages are generic city forms with basic information: name, address, blood type, education, employment, and allergies. The other two pages go into your acceptance of  library work. Do you have customer service experience? Can you lift up to thirty pounds? Of what? What do you like best about lifting thirty pounds? Have you ever lifted up to thirty pounds while helping someone with a resume? Typing speed. What made this application different was the six single spaced handwritten pages that followed.

     I did not read it all. It began with the person's birth and continued. They spoke of love, laughter, and living. Then on page three the deaths began. I skipped to the end.

     A strange red stain blossomed on the sixth page. Before my eyes it spread until it covered all eight and one-half by eleven inches of the pulp. I dropped it to my desk where the wood began to absorb the liquid oozing ever outward.

     I grabbed the first page and reached for the phone. We had interviews to conduct.

Made His Toes Curl

"I don't understand. Where did the money come from?" the children's librarian said. 

     The reference librarian leaned back and nodded to the circulation librarian out working the curbside table. "Her."

     "She's barely been here two weeks. Has she even met with the director?"

     "Well, not her exactly. Seems our previous circulation staff budget was embellished by the tenure of our old coworker."

     "She costs less so we get a new page."

     "Bingo," the reference librarian said.

     The children's librarian pushed back a lock of golden hair from her forehead. "Has anyone told Freddy?"

     Before the reference librarian could respond, the circulation librarian called out to them. They rose and went outside.

     "I'm so glad to meet you both," a woman said from across the curbside table. Older with a yellow baseball cap and a matching mask. "My daddy loved you both so much. Talked about you all the time. He passed away yesterday in his sleep."

     The librarians introduced themselves. The children's librarian took the lead, saying, "I'm so sorry, but who was your father?"

     "You must think me silly. Sheila Anchor. My daddy was Ansel Anchor."

     "I'm sorry to hear about your loss," the children's librarian said. "Seems so sudden. He was just here this weekend."

     "That art class made his toes curl. He talked about framing that picture he drew. We couldn't find it, though. Is it still here?" Sheila said.

     The reference librarian said, "It could be in the meeting room. The art teacher left her supplies and things."

     A severe looking man with gray hairs and no mask on his face said, "Excuse me. Don't mean to break up the memorial service, but I need some damn books."

     The circulation librarian waved to him. They began talking at the other end of the table.

     The children's librarian said, "We can go check."

     The reference librarian hesitated, but she took his arm. They went inside. As they crossed to the meeting room, he said, "Shouldn't someone stay out there with Julie?"

     "You wanna see what they painted in there?"

     "Fair enough."

     "Seems odd him dying like that."

     "Old man dies in his sleep. Not that odd. Pleasant, really," the reference librarian said unlocking the meeting room door.

     She said, "How will we know which is his?"

    "Check for the signature 'Old Cranky Bastard' down at the bottom."

    Except the meeting room was empty. No art supplies. No canvases. No paints. No easels. Nothing in the small kitchen either.

     The reference librarian said, "Maybe she took it out the fire door?"

     "Without a key? We would have heard the alarm," the children's librarian said.

     Back at the table, they explained the art teacher must have the paintings and again offered their condolences. Sheila Anchor left, thanking them for treating her father so well during his last days. They promised to talk to the art teacher and put them in touch.

     At the other end of the table, the maskless man said, "I don't have to. I been vaccinated so just give me my damn books."

     "I still need your card number, sir. Or your name," the circulation librarian said.

     The man stuck his finger in the librarian's face. "I'm gonna get you." His finger drifted to each of them. "All of you. I been vaccinated."

     Then he left. The librarians were speechless.

Red Sky in Morning

The circulation librarian did not like the look of the art teacher named Karryn. Nothing in particular stood out as art teacher's went. Cute black dress with some necklaces and bracelets that drew the eye and made little tinny sounds. Cute black hair cut in a bob that landed just below her ears where simple silver loops hung. Cute pea coat and cute strappy shoes and a cute tote bag that said "Where my art bitches at?"

     When Karryn the art teacher smiled, though, it felt too inviting.

     Karryn flashed that smile and said, "Can I see the space today or should I come back?"

     The circulation librarian said, "I'm sorry, but we're a little short handed. I'm the only one working curbside right now."

     "Oh, I hate to impose on you essential workers," Karryn said. She ran a hand along the table, her long unpolished nails skipping over it's uneven surface. "Are y'all always this busy?"

     There had been six appointments all morning. As they set up the table, the sky had been red under the dark clouds. The reference librarian had said, "Red sky in morning, a sailor takes warning." Then he had gone off to take in the delivery and installation of the new book drop and left her alone. Noises from that side of the building had been happening all morning as the workers tried to beat the rain.

     "We have our spurts. Always when we turn our backs, that's when people come," the circulation librarian said.

     Karryn said, "Like a cat. Ignore it, and it will lay on you all day long."

     "I suppose so. I should have another person here in a few hours," the circulation librarian said, thinking of when the page was coming in to work or when the children's librarian was done with her virtual story time.

     "I knew the old circulation librarian, you know," Karryn said.

     The circulation librarian said, "Oh?"

     "Yes. We went way back. I hated to hear about what happened."

     The circulation librarian had asked and heard the woman had died of natural causes. In her sleep. Just after retiring. She smiled, "I've heard rumors, but never met her."

     "Brenda was," Karryn smiled that inviting smile, "deliciously attentive. She knew the best books to drive me wild."

     "I hope I can help you get what you need," the circulation librarian said. She found herself drawn in by the woman.

     "You might just lure me away from the second branch," Karryn said.

     The circulation librarian leaned closer. Seeing Karryn's eyes for the first time, a subtle shade of gray with hints of violet. Lovely over that smile that said interesting things would happen if you just got a little closer.

     "The book drop is ready," the reference librarian said from the doorway.

     The spell was broken. The circulation librarian stepped back. 

     "Sorry to interrupt," the reference librarian said.

     "Chris, this is Karryn from the art class. She's here to see the meeting room," the circulation librarian said.

     Karryn said, "I thought I would come down and introduce myself. See the space I'll be working with."

     "Sure. Julie, do you want to get a break from curbside?" the reference librarian asked the circulation librarian.

     "No," the circulation librarian said. She did not want to be alone with this woman in the dark meeting room.

     "Okay. If you want to come around the table, I'll show you the meeting room," the reference librarian said to the art teacher.

     "Thank you very much. I can't wait to see what you have," Karryn said following the reference librarian into the building. 

     The circulation librarian wondered if it was a good idea to leave the reference librarian alone in the dark with the art teacher.

To Mend Fences

The reference librarian made coffee. He sat alone in the conference room and smelled the coffee. He wondered if it was strong enough. He wondered if he should have poisoned it.

     The circulation librarian came into the conference room. She sat beside him in one of the large comfy chairs. The board of directors, when they were still meeting here, had requested the best. She said, "So what's he like?"

     "Who?" the reference librarian said.

     "The second branch librarian."

     The reference librarian looked around. Seeing no one, he said, "Creepy bastard. I mean, we all got our things, but he's been out there too long. Gotten into some things in the county that should not-"

     "Hello," said the children's librarian as she breezed into the room and sat across from them. "We talking about Mr. Creepy from the land out yonder?"

     "Lower your voice," the reference librarian said.

     The children's librarian stuck out her tongue. "He's strange, but he's still a librarian."

     "That alone should scare you," the reference librarian said.

     "Is the director coming?" the circulation librarian said.

     The technical services librarian said from the door, "He is in his office on a call. He said we should handle it." She limped around the table and took a seat next to the children's librarian.

     "Would you like some coffee, Miriam?"the reference librarian said.

     "Did you poison it?" said the tech serv librarian with a small smile.

     The circulation librarian said, "I can't tell if y'all are joking anymore."

     "Ask your predecessor," said the tech serv librarian.

     Before the circulation librarian could ask what that meant, a small tapping came from the door. They turned and found the second branch librarian standing in the doorway. Small, wrapped in dark cloth and the smell of sage, the second branch librarian smiled.

     "It has been too long since we have met," he said, his voice high and full of teeth.

     "Coffee, Jacob?" said the reference librarian. 

     The second branch librarian took the seat at the far end of the table. He folded in on himself becoming a lump of coal and eyes looking out at them. When he spoke, his teeth shinded. "No, thank you, Christopher."

     "Well, I am, dammit." The reference librarian rose and poured a cup.

     The second branch librarian spoke: "I have little time. I am aware some of my patrons from the county vandalized the city book drop. This is unacceptable, and I wish to make amends and offer my apologies. I propose an outreach project of sorts to mend fences."

     "What kind of project?" the circulation librarian asked.

     "An art class from the local co-op needs a space. Free instruction to the public. After hours, so it can be contained. They will pay more than enough to use the space to fix the book drop."

     "We can't let people in to use the library," the children's librarian said.

     "We can if we invite them to use the space. If we use responsible practices, six feet, masks, etc. If you want the money for your book drop, this is the only way."

     "We could take money from the second branch budget," the reference librarian said.

     The second branch librarian flashed his teeth. "I have already spoken to the director and the art class. They find this acceptable. Once a month, the weekend after the full moon."

     "That's this weekend," said the children's librarian.

     The circulation librarian leaned forward. "Did the Nguyen family go to this art class?"

     "The sweet Nguyen family has enjoyed many of the second branch's programs," the second branch librarian said.

     "What do you think, Mirim?" the reference librarian said.

     The tech services librarian said, "None of my business. I don't do programming."

     The reference librarian turned to the children's librarian. "Jamie?"

     "We need a book drop. I say we do it," the children's librarian said.

     The second branch librarian rose. "The art class and their teacher will be in contact."

     "We didn't decide," the reference librarian said.

     The second branch librarian rose and walked to the door. "It was decided before I even came. As I said, I talked to the director. Good day to you all. We should meet again soon." He left with a small tapping.

The Circulation Librarian Strikes Back

"And another thing, if you think you can tell me what I can and cannot check out, then you can go right to hell in a hand basket that says 'I'm the worst person who ever did things' on a ribbon tied around it," the patron in the yellow hat told the circulation librarian.

     The circulation librarian stared ahead. She was new at her job. The reference librarian and the children's librarian watched her from a window. She continued to stare ahead, swaying side to side, her eyes looking past the curbside table. 

     The patron in the yellow hat said, "Did you hear me?"

     The swaying stopped. The circulation librarian said, "Oh my, I'm sorry. I seem to have drifted away just now."

     The patron in the yellow hat took her turn to stare. She said, "What?"

     The librarian waved a hand. "Oh, the way you talked. Just lulled me off. I was thinking about this little dog my mother had who would yip and snap and snarl at nothing at all. Poor little thing. Got run over by a bus."

     "I need to check out the encyclopedia," the patron in the yellow hat said.

     "Oh, we threw that old thing away," the circulation librarian said.

     "Why would you do that?"

     "Because they don't publish it anymore. But you can go online."

     "My taxes fund this library, and I need the encyclopedia."

     "Would you like a refund?" the circulation librarian said.

     The patron in the yellow hat paused. "Yes?"

     "One moment."

     The circulation librarian turned and walked inside the library. The reference librarian and the children's librarian stood near the window, stunned. She asked them, "Sorry, still new in town. Which way is the tax assessor's office?"
    "Next to City Hall on Main Street," the reference librarian said.

     "And the highway from there?"

     "Down Main, turn on Second and keep going until the intersection."

     "Thank you, Chris," the circulation librarian said and turned back to the patron outside.

     "Welcome, Julie," said the reference librarian.

     "Well, are you gonna get me my refund?" the patron said.

     "First, you can go to the tax assessor's office and file your grievance with them. They are next to City Hall on Main Street," the circulation librarian said. 

     "I know where they are. I pay my boat-"

     The circulation librarian talked over her, "And when they have laughed you out on your ass, keep going down Main Street, turn on Second Avenue, and follow it to the highway. Once on the highway, follow it straight to hell. I'm sure the devil is missing his dumbest flunky right about now."

     The patron was stunned. The circulation librarian smiled, turned, and went inside. The reference and the children's librarian high-fived.

Staff Picks: Dark Winter Overlord Edition

Now that the world is in the full grip of winter, you must choose a demonic or otherworldly overlord for which to serve. Do you want fire to warm your home or animal servants to bring you food? What are you willing to give up, blood for blood or do you have a spare virgin lying around? The staff of the library is here to help you make these easy decisions.

Karryn the Vampire Queen - Brenda from Circulation

Overview

Karryn's pretty cool overall. She's immortal, loves to laugh, and makes the best bloody mary's. If you need someone to call up and hang with, there's no beating this dark overlord. Plus, she's a voracious reader. If you let her in, she will satisfy all your needs on those lonely nights.

Cost

Couple pints of blood once or twice a week

Pros

Good drinks and good times

Cons

Little woozy after hangs, and she mmay tell the same stories over and over

The Tome of Ancient Sorrows - Chris from Reference 

Overview

The only reference book you will ever need. It's big and heavy, easily capable of bringing a grown man to his knees with one overhead blow, yet light enough that it can be carried around by any library staff. Just one look in these pages will show you secrets that will melt your brain.

Cost

A melted brain.

Pros

Unlimited knowledge and awesome potential for destruction

Cons

Reading too often can lead to cackling insanity and ooze in ears

Sheila the Book Cart - Freddy the Page

Overview

Built in Detroit in 1956, this book cart has survived to today on wheels of evil and shelves of determination. Giving your soul over to this cart means never having to say "I can't carry that." Sheila will bring light unto your heart and death unto your enemies.

Cost

One Soul

Pros

Great carry capacity, space age design

Cons

May lose passion for all things

Marquis the Butterfly King - Jamie from Children's

Overview

Once a small butterfly, Marquis slaughtered fields of enemies and stomped six bloody boot prints onto the souls of the dead. With his coal and fire inlaid wings he carries the souls of the undying to their places of torment. Hear his forlorn wail and tremble.

Cost

One gumdrop

Pros

Never fear when you know true death

Cons

May destroy you

A Novel Tea

"Look, it's one guy or the other. They both scream a lot," the circulation librarian said sipping her tea.

     "One's a black guy and one's Asian, Brenda," said the reference librarian.

     "They're both Fast and the Furious B-Team," the circulation librarian said leaning back in her chair. They had been debating movies for their entire lunch period. Neither really cared about any of the movies they were talking about. "Nobody cares about them in the end. It's all about that bald guy and that really big bald guy."

     "Yeah, but the really big bald guy is now off fighting with the little British bald guy."

     "That don't make it better, Chris."

     The page came in the break room. He set the electric kettle on and sat across the room from the librarians. The reference librarian said hello while the circulation librarian ignored the boy, saying, "That don't make it better at all."

     "Why? Because the movie doesn't have the one you like?" the reference librarian said.

     The circulation librarian sighed. "Because it's about the family. The whole group. It's like if one of the Lethal Weapon's go off and gung fu fight."

     "There's so much wrong with that statement," the reference librarian said. 

     The kettle began a low whistle. The page stood up and pulled out a tea bag from his pocket. He began looking for a cup in the cupboard above the sink. He pulled down a yellow cup.

     The circulation librarian stood. She walked over to the sink and took the cup from his hand.

     "That's the director's," she said. "I don't think he'd be happy you taking his cup."

     "Sorry, Brenda," the page said.

     "You can use mine, Freddy. Blue one that says you can't beat a good book," the reference librarian said.

     "Thanks," the page said and found the cup. He poured the water and dunked the bag. A warm citrus flavor filled the air.

     The circulation librarian said, "What kind of tea is that, anyway?" 

     The page shrugged, saying, "My mom gave it to me."

     The circulation librarian said, "You're mommy sent you to work with tea, huh? Smells good. Let me taste it."

     "Brenda, leave the kid alone," the reference librarian said.

     The circulation librarian said, "Freddy don't mind me having a little. He knows I like tea."

     Freddy put the cup on the counter. "I know."

     She laughed and picked up the cup. Raised it to her lip and took a sip. "Pretty tasty. I should make you make me a cup."

     The page said, "That's what you do, Brenda. You push too much."

     "Wha-" the circulation librarian said, then she coughed. Blood spurted from her mouth. More coughing. More blood. She fell, her body shaking. 

     The reference librarian jumped to his feet. He crossed to her, held her shoulders shouting her name. Then he looked at the page. "What did you do?"

     The page said, "Pushed back."

The Day the Book Cart Died

Without people in the library, the staff have gotten much freer expressing ourselves. They sing more. Play more music. Argue on the floor about dumb topics. 

     And some curse like sailors.

     "Ahhh, fucking ducks on the ocean," the circulation librarian screamed. A crash followed. Books raining from the second floor and onto the floor and the heavy metal of a cart tumbling down the stairs.

     The page on duty, a young boy not even 18, said, "You did that on purpose."

     A circulation library saw him standing in the stacks, looking at her. She looked down at the cart and the books. She turned back to him. saying, "No I didn't."

     "That was my favorite cart," he said.

     "Well, it's dead," she said.

     "You pushed it."

     "That's what you do with carts, Freddy. You push them."

     "Not like that." He walked around her and down the steps. "Not down steps."

     "Be careful, Freddy. You can be pushed, too," she said, too quiet for him to hear.

     The page pushed away the books with one hand while keeping the other on the cart. Carefully he lifted it and double checked the welds. Then the wheel fell off. One of the three shelves tilted. The page began to cry soft tears.

     The reference librarian materialized beside the circulation library and looked over the balcony. He said, "Why did you do that?"

     "Remember last week when I wanted a new cart?" the circulation librarian said.

     "I do."

     "Now I might get one."

     "You're kinda fucked up. Might want to go home."

     The circulation librarian smiled. "Have to put in an order first for my new cart."

     "Just one question first," the reference librarian said.

     "Shoot."

     "Why do that to the boy?"

     The circulation librarian smiled. "Remember last week when I wanted to hire a new page?"

     She walked one way and the reference librarian walked the other. Down on the floor, the page held the cart to his chest and rocked it back and forth. He sang a low tune, cursing the circulation librarian in his mind. He began a plot, an idea. Rage boiled and spilled over. 

     Then the children's librarian came to the page's side with another cart. She pulled the cart from his hands. She helped him gather the books. She gave him an ounce of humanity.

     The children's librarian said, "Not today, Freddy. Today we handle this. Then we plot to destroy her with her own fucking hands. We'll make her eat this cart. Until then, I'll get my welding equipment. I'll make her live again in some way."

     The page nodded. Then he smiled a smile touched with madness and wild fury.

The Bleeding Tools of Carl and Loser Carl By ST Harker

Two men walked into the library carrying iron pipes and crowbars. Lots of them. Big guys with armloads of iron. And blood.

They dropped the materials on the library carpet. A scream came from way back in the library. I startled one of the men, who farted.

"Can we help you?" asked the circulation librarian.

"Our tools are bleeding," the first man said.

"All the blood," the other man said.

The circulation library picked up the phone. She said, "We need a tool anatomy book at the circ desk."

Her voice came over the P.A. system. Upstairs, feet began to shuffle. In a moment the reference librarian appeared out of breath.

The reference librarian said, "I have McCaffs Grey's Small Engine holy shit that's lots of blood coming out of those crowbars."

The first guy, his name was Carl because he mother wanted it that way, he said, "Iron pipes, too. I'm Carl. Help us out."

The second guy, also named Carl but people called him Loser Carl, he said, "Yeah, man, it's super gross."

The reference librarian flipped through the books, saying, "Man, there's a lot about batteries but nothing about blood. Say… Are you guys into Satan?"

"We don't go to church," Carl said. Loser Carl agreed.

"Damn. Nobody wants to go with me," the reference librarian said.

Carl put an arm around her shoulder and said, "Hey, cheer up. And, you know, this really isn't about you and your religious angst right now. Get your shit together, you Satanist librarian."

The reference librarian agreed and, angered, took out her phone and started googling. Turns out, the bleeding tools were possessed by the spirit of ancient blood demons. One incantation later and the tools were fine.

Except one crowbar. The reference librarian used that one to break Loser Carl's kneecap, saying to Carl, "Next time you think of putting hands on a librarian, you look at your friend's inability to skip to my lou."

The end