Between the Stacks

Chapter 3

"Well," Katherine said from behind the podium. "I bet you're wondering why I've gathered you all here."

That sentence seemed like something a Bond villain might say, and yet Katherine was the furthest thing from a suave, suit-wearing, cat-petting supervillain. She wore a linen dress that went down to her toes; her brightly-painted toenails peeked out from underneath the hem. It was my first time seeing her in person.

I'd expected the Cherryhill Library CEO to be loud. Instead, her voice was barely a whisper. "Of course, before we get started, I want you to know that the library values employee wellness above everything else."

Matteo stiffened beside me. Last week he'd done four double shifts, and in two of them he'd been puked on by a toddler.

We were sitting in a too-large auditorium in the Main Branch. The room was meant to hold over two hundred people - the library hosted lots of film screenings and guest speakers - so it was strange to only have a few dozen of us in the front rows.

At least a quarter of those in the room were eyeing Matteo appreciatively. My poor, oblivious friend paid them no notice. Meanwhile, I noticed more than a few glares in my direction. The story of my disastrous day had gotten around.

A few hours after I got home from the fire, Lakshmi called and let me know that the library would be closed for a few days to air out the smoke. I spent an indeterminable amount of time in the Pit of Despair, and paced my apartment like a ghost haunting an old Victorian mansion. The next day I received an email from Katherine Jaworski herself. At first I panicked, figuring that this would be the moment I would be fired. Then I saw that the email was sent to multiple people. In fact, it was an email inviting all staff members of both the Northern Ridge and Riverside branches for an all-staff meeting. No agenda had been attached.

Now we were sweating away in the uncomfortable seats. The air conditioning was broken, and I knew that if I shifted my arms at all, my sheer amount of sweat would be revealed.

Worse, Wesley was sitting right behind me. I sat ramrod-straight in my chair, refusing to let him see my pit stains.

I wasn't sure why I had become so obsessive about him. When I was in the Pit of Despair, crying on my bed and stress-watching reality TV, I couldn't help but partly think this was all his fault. He had been actively sabotaging the library, and everything had gone downhill after that.

"I hope you don't mind a short PowerPoint," Katherine said from up front, and the large screen behind her illuminated.

I could hear Melissa's groan from the other side of Matteo. The three of us were sitting in the front row, where there were spaces available for wheelchairs. Melissa wanted all PowerPoints to die.

I didn't blame her. As Katherine was setting up the presentation, I saw in the bottom left-hand corner of the screen, Slide 1 of 75. I, too, wanted to die.

The beginning of Katherine's PowerPoint started off describing the beginning of time; or at least, it felt like it. First she described Cherryhill, our suburban community about an hour and a half southwest of Toronto. Then she described the Cherryhill library system, with its three branches - Main, Northern Ridge, and Riverside - as if we'd never heard of them.

"Shoot me," Matteo said under his breath.

"Only if you shoot me first," I said.

From behind me, Wesley kicked my chair.

Katherine jumped from the history lesson into a series of incomprehensible slides with screenshots of spreadsheets. She showed us countless bar graphs and pie charts, all of them flashing by quickly one after another.