I stared around the vast room in awed fascination, my eyes as big as saucers and my mouth gaping amazedly. I had never seen so many books in one place—actually, I had never seen so many books period. The nearest I had ever come to seeing a real library was the three-book collection of Matthias, our village teacher back home. Now this place…not only was this a real library, this was the library.
Seventy years ago, when the invaders had attacked my home planet of New Ireland, nearly all of the books had been moved here, to the Grand Library, for safekeeping. After the war was over, most of our technology was gone, along with the people who knew how to make it. Only the books remained, and it would be years before we again could understand all that they had to tell us. Some people had thought that Earth would come to our rescue, but after nearly ten years of silence, we gave up on that hope. Perhaps they had been attacked by the rebels too—perhaps they had even lost. There was no way of knowing, and thus were the books kept here, in the Grand Library, as a safeguard against more destruction.
And now I was here. Even more, I was here to stay. I was the chosen one from my village this year, the one elected to join the ever-needed ranks of Librarians who kept the Library in order. My new uniform, an ankle-length dress of plain white cotton, swished delightfully over my leather-clad feet, and I rubbed a pleat between my fingers in excitement.
“Lisa!” My head jerked around at the sound of my name, and I bobbed a quick curtsey to Mrs. Becker, my mentor. She gave me a reproving look and motioned. “Come one, lass. You’re eyes are about to pop out of your head with all that staring.”
Flushing, I hurried after her as she led me deeper and deeper into the Library, her brisk footsteps swishing softly over the stone floor.
“Here.” Mrs. Becker stopped abruptly in front of a large shelf full of books. Pulling one from its place, she opened the cover and showed me the cataloging information on the inside. “This is what you’ll need to do,” she explained. “Take this binder—“ she handed me a thick, leather-bound book half-filled with blank pages. “—and start writing down these books’ information inside. Later, I’ll show you how to file it correctly, but for now we just need to have the information written down somewhere. Do you think you can handle that?”
I nodded eagerly, my eyes fastened on the thick tome in her hand. Mrs. Becker gave me an approving nod, and pulled a pencil from behind her ear. “Here,” she added, holding out the writing instrument. “Use this until we can trust you with a pen and ink.”
Then she left me there, with a daunting pile of books and a half-empty binder. I took a step back from the shelf and looked up at the top rack, high above my head. Suddenly I wasn’t so eager. However, I was determined to do my job well, so I looked around for a ladder. One leaned against another shelf nearby, so I moved it and climbed up, up, up, to the top layer of books. Settling myself somewhat-comfortably against the wooden shelf, I began my work.
Watership Down, Richard Adams; Treasury of Children’s Poetry, Various Authors; United States History, second edition, Timothy Keesee; The Secret of the Old Clock, Carolyn Keene; The Silmarillion, JRR Tolkien…each book became a neat penciled entry in my binder, and I made my way through the first shelf in little under an hour.
Taking a break to stretch my cramping fingers and rub my cricked neck, I sighed in contentment. Yes indeed…this was what I wanted to do in life. Soon, perhaps, I would graduate from the snow-white uniform of a novice to the creamy-white of an official Junior Librarian. And maybe someday, if I worked hard enough and lived long enough, I could wear the dark-chocolate robes of a Master Librarian. Hey—I could dream, couldn’t I?
A sudden noise made me look down. Below me, a boy in white crept stealthily through the stacks, his head darting back and forth like a watchful bird’s.
“Hey,” I said, surprised. “What are you doing?”
He jerked to a stop and looked up at me with a profoundly guilty look on his thin face. “Nothing.” He said sullenly.
Unsure of what to do, I glanced over the tops of the nearby shelves, hoping to see a higher-level Librarian. No one was in sight.
“Are you a new novice too?” I asked the boy, looking back down. He had to crane his neck to see me.
“Yes.” He sounded nervous.
“What are you doing?” I asked again, sincerely curious. The thought crossed my mind that the stacks would be a great place to play hide-and-seek. “Are you hiding from someone?”
The boy’s expression turned panicky. “No!” he exclaimed. “I’m just…just looking for a book.” He bent over, as if looking on the lower shelves. “See—just looking.”
“Which book?”
He glared up at me. “You’re really nosy, you know that?” he accused.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I’m Lisa. Who are you?”
“Galen.”
“Nice to meet you Galen.” I stuck the pencil behind my ear, attempting to look calm and composed like Mrs. Becker. “Who’s your mentor?”
“Look—I’m kinda in a hurry,” Galen said. “So if you’ve finished your interrogation?”
I blinked. “Oh…sorry.” Touchy kid, I thought. Where I come from, it’s called being friendly, not an interrogation.
He waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind.” With a final, sneaky glance up at me, Galen hurried away, his footsteps loud in the absorbent silence of the Library.
“Well,” I said to myself, turning reluctantly back to my job. “That was interesting.”
And that was only my first day in the Library.
