The heavy door fell into the lock with a thump of finality while a chime sang out a cheery welcome. My glasses fogged from the sudden warmth and added to my sense of apprehension and worry. This was where the rest of my life started—my adult life. My first job, and instead of being happy about it, anxiety made me want to run.
I shook the snow out of my curls and dug in my backpack for a paper tissue to restore my sight—and allow me to inspect my new working place. The library occupied the ground floor of a historic warehouse. A row of tall windows promised bright sunshine on a summer day.
Right now, with low-hanging clouds shedding heavy flakes outside, the soft grey light filtering into the high-ceilinged room was no competition to the friendly glow of the artificial illumination. It painted circles of welcoming warmth onto the spotless hardwood floor. In the centre of the reception area, a polished monstrosity of a period desk clashed with the state-of-the-art computer terminal sitting on top of it.
As I wiped the slush from my shoes on the floor mat and wriggled out of my down jacket, a husky, female voice reached me from the depth of the vast room.
"We're closed until nine. Didn't you see the sign on the door?"
Great, a grumpy coworker was exactly what I needed on my first day. "Excuse me, I—"
"I told you we're closed. Now, get out and come back after nine. Hush."
Irritation about the invisibility of my unfriendly conversation partner sharpened my tone. "I was told to be here at eight to get my introduction, madam."
Instead of an answer, I heard a drawer being slammed behind several rows of shelves and a muttered curse. The temptation to quit before I'd even met my coworker or—worse—my new superior proved hard to fight. For a moment I stood, gnawing my lip. But there was nothing to be done about it. I needed this job, even if it was just for a few weeks.
With a suppressed sigh, I hung my jacket next to a peach-coloured wool coat on a coat rack by the door, took several deep breaths, and steeled myself to brave my potential new nemesis.
To the right, towards the window front, an open area with a purple sofa, several armchairs, and two dozen colourful sitting cubes invited for a stay. The display of books on low shelves told me this was the children's section. I turned to the left, where row after row of sleek metal shelves hoarded the treasures of this place. The first aisle was empty. I tiptoed to the next, but jumped when a thump and the door chime announced a new arrival.
With a waft of chilly air, a short, chubby woman bundled up against the cold entered the room like a whirlwind shedding snowflakes. Between a purple knitted hat and a fluffy scarf of the same colour, I couldn't see much of her face except a snub nose reddened by the cold and a pair of silver-rimmed, fogged spectacles. She took them off and sent me a broad smile.
"Hey, you must be Lynn. I'm so glad you could make it, my dear."
She unwrapped her scarf and slipped out of her oversized coat. Beneath, she wore a cardigan over a blue pullover and a faded pair of jeans. Her unruly grey hair was braided, but several strands had come loose and curled around a smiling face.
"We talked on the phone. I'm Marjorie. Are you still happy to give this a go?"
Her down-to-Earth presence and sparkling energy made my anxiety evaporate like mist in the morning sun.
"Sure, if you'll have me?"
"What a question. I'm delighted you came. Now, let's get you settled first. I'm so sorry I've been late today. With the ice and slush, I had to take care my old bones didn't suffer more than necessary. Have you already had a cup of tea? No?"
Overwhelmed by her excitement, I shook my head.
"Well then, let's correct this. Come, come, our kitchenette is right over here."
She ushered me into a small office, the walls decorated with faded postcards and posters from author readings long past, and filled the kettle in the kitchen corner. While we waited for the water to boil, she opened a tin with homemade cookies but never stopped chatting. In time, I relaxed enough to contribute to the conversation. As soon as the whistle blew, she called out into the room.
"Conny, tea is ready. Come meet Lynn, our new coworker."
My heart skipped a beat. I'd all but forgotten about the other woman. Conny turned out to be a head taller than me, slim, blonde, and in her forties. Unlike Marjorie, she wore formal office clothes, and not a hair in her bun dared to move out of place. Her grey eyes were guarded as she nodded at me instead of a greeting and took the offered cup.
"So, you are the replacement?"
I exchanged a glance with Marjorie. "Yes, if that's alright."
The elder woman smiled. "Of course it is. You'll see, the both of you are going to have a lot of fun while I'm away."
I wasn't too sure about this, but I didn't dare to raise an objection. The corners of Conny's mouth twitched downward. So, we seemed to agree at least on this one point. But Marjorie bit into a cookie and chatted on, oblivious.
"The doctors say my new hip will allow me to walk pain-free in no time. If all goes well, I should be back and good as new in four to six weeks." She sipped her herbal tea with a smile. "It will almost be spring and we can have fresh flowers in here again."
Right now, the prospect of spring seemed like a beautiful dream, even if I'd be on the job hunt again as soon as Marjorie returned. I had enough of the cold season and freezing in my tiny apartment I could barely afford. Probably I should continue looking for jobs, six weeks weren't too long.
"When is your surgery scheduled?" Conny asked what had been nagging my mind.
"This coming Thursday. I thought it best to allow Lynn a few days to get used to the job. After all, we have a bunch of activities coming up, and I don't want to overburden you, my dear."
Conny's face remained unreadable as she denied a cookie. "Great. I assure you, with the audit and invoice coming up, I don't have time for shenanigans. Please make sure Lynn knows the house rules and makes sure the kids won't keep me from work." She placed her empty cup in the sink and left.
Marjorie winked and downed her own tea. "No worries, I'll show you around. I'm sure you'll enjoy working here. This library is a magic place."
While she washed the three cups and placed them in a drying rack, I studied the activity poster pinned to a corkboard. There was a list of planned author readings on Thursday evenings. Wednesday afternoons, the library offered a reading hour and activities for children. Tuesday morning, a knitting circle took place. Also, there would be a photo exhibition in three weeks.
"Exciting, isn't it? I'm so sorry I'll miss the vernissage. But I'm sure you and Conny will do great. Besides, Paco is such a sweetheart, he'll help you with the installation and everything. I have a great feeling about this."
I didn't, but in the face of so much enthusiasm, I also didn't find the words to voice my concerns. According to the poster, Paco Martinez was the artist whose work would be presented. I just hoped he wasn't as arrogant and lofty as Conny—when seen without the rose-tinted spectacles Marjorie seemed to wear.
She studied my face, a worry line on her forehead. "Everything alright?"
"Sure, only kind of overwhelmed. What should I do?" Perhaps, if I started somewhere, things would fall into place.
The line disappeared, and the smile returned. "You'll have to run the front desk during the opening hours. Also, doing the round and assuring all books stand at their rightful place. And the activities, of course. Conny isn't good at those, I'm afraid. She'll share the work at the reception and do all the administrative parts, the correspondence and ordering of new books. She also keeps our accounts in order. As I told you on the phone, I'm responsible for the public contact. Do you feel up to this?"
"If you show me what I have to do, I'm sure I'll manage."
"That's the spirit. Well, perhaps you could do the rounds while it's still quiet. This way, you get a grasp of our range of selection and the layout of the library. Meanwhile, I'll hold the desk. There is a class of schoolchildren scheduled to visit later, so you can see how we work with them. And in the afternoon, Conny can show you how the catalogue and the loan system work."
The next hour found me walking row after row of the shelves and checking if all the books stood in the right order and with their spines aligned with the edge of the shelf. Colour coded labels helped me find my way around. Only a few shelves needed reordering, mostly the comics section and the row with mature content.
What sounds like a rather boring job turned out to be a discovery trip into the world of stories. I found so much interesting reading material that I decided I'd need a library card of my own. I had reached the back corner of the room and the section for classic literature when the light above me faded and left me in the gloom. My search for a light switch was in vain, and I stared at the offensive lamp with a frown.
It blinked twice and gave off the same bright light as before. Weird. As soon as I turned back to the job, it faded again. Someone was playing tricks.
"Stop it, this isn't funny." I looked around, but couldn't spot the offender. The light flickered into existence again, but snuffed out when I returned to my task. This time, I thought I heard a soft noise. Was this a—purr?
I squinted my eyes, and then I saw it. On the shelf in the corner snuggled a cat in front of the cover of Pride and Prejudice, ears erect and tail wrapped around the body.
"Huh." The tabby licked a paw as if this was the most important thing in the world and ignored me the way only cats can. Then it hit me. "Why are you glowing blue?"