Between the Stacks

Chapter 6

By next Monday, the library had reopened after the fire department gave us permission to enter the building.

I made a show of breathing deeply as we entered the lobby. "Can you smell that? Smells like despair."

"You're being dramatic," Melissa said, swiping her card to unlock the door. "We're not going to lose our jobs." I wasn't quite sure if I believed her.

We always started our shift before the library officially opened, but we were extra early today. Since the whole fiery shenanigan had been my fault, I had volunteered to come early to make sure everything was set up for the day. And since Melissa is The Best Friend of All Time, she came with me.

In the end, everything was fine. It was as if the library existed in a time bubble where nothing had changed. The rows of low shelves were carefully arranged; the reference desk was still standing proud near the far row of windows; the shelving carts were still stacked against the wall. We would need to check out the staff area and the community rooms later - for now, everything seemed untouched.

I almost sobbed with relief. I probably would have, actually, but I spent a lot of time on my eyeliner that morning, and I didn't want to ruin it. Not that I had much to ruin - I had never really mastered makeup. I looked a bit like Avril Lavigne circa 2008.

Our space was hardly as impressive as the Vancouver Public Library that had inspired my librarian career. Our Northern Ridge branch was squashed between a laundromat and a pizzeria, so the pro and the con was that there was always a vague sense of pepperoni haunting us. Lakshmi warned me that the heat never fully turned on in the winter, and the air conditioner in the summer was wonky at best. But it was still our space. The bulletin board was plastered with upcoming events. Posters announced reading contests. The children's area was overrun with toys and board books. It wasn't pretty, and that was okay.

"Want to check behind the desk? I'll check the other rooms," Melissa said, gesturing with her head towards the hallway of community rooms. For us, "behind the desk" referred to the locked staff area behind the commanding reference desk where clients checked out books.

"You got it," I said, glad that I would have a chance to check my desk alone.

Trying to play it cool, I strode over to unlock the door. I hit the light switch and let out a sigh of relief. Nothing looked different. It was one large room, and each librarian or library tech had their own desk. At the back were a series of long tables where the cataloguers worked their magic.

My own desk was near the fridge. When I started it was the only desk available, since most people didn't want to be so close to the tiny kitchenette. But it was a great fit for me - I just had to swivel in my chair and I could grab some cheese sticks from the fridge. Perfect.

Everything was just as I had left it. My laptop was still hooked up to the wonky monitor that cast a yellowish shade on every website I visited; reference books still lined the shelf next to the wall; various snack wrappers were still crumpled on my desk. And most importantly of all, Kermit was fine.

Ironically, Kermit was indeed sitting on the fire safety manual...the one that I should have read ahead of time. "Oops," I muttered. But I would deal with my guilt later. I had more important things to check.

I picked up the stuffed frog and turned him over, as if I was some sort of shabby doctor. Kermit was small - barely bigger than my hand - but I had been worried sick about him. Concerned about smoke damage, I gave him a sniff.