I loved the archive section of the library. It was so quiet here the silence felt like a wall. My rubber sole shoes squeaked on the polished floor as I made my way to my favorite corner. From behind a shelf filled with rims and rims of tax codes of the pre-war era a cough issued. I grimaced and slowed to a tip-toe.
None too soon, I reached the last row of the farthest corner away from the staircase coming down from the main library. Here there was no whispering couples or discussion groups hogging whole areas. This was a place for the lone researcher. Treasures could be found in the archive, mostly obscure out-of-print books and also well-known first editions. They came to the library’s collection via donors who did not wish for their uncaring heirs to own their most valuable possession. A new set had arrived, I saw, for the once empty four levels of shelf next to 'my' desk was now filled with hard cover books of black, red, green and even blue.
I scanned the titles embossed in fading gold ink. At first they didn’t register, but once they dawned on me, I almost laughed aloud. The works of Poe, Verne, Wells, Scott and Doyle co-mingled with a collection of Churchill’s History of Britain and a translation of Voltaire’s and Rousseau’s letters.
My curiosity perked, I made a note of the shelf number before going to the nearest computer to find the name of the donor in the library index. ‘Code Unknown’ flashed the screen. I shrugged; maybe the librarian hadn’t had time to update it into the system yet. Still it was only a small problem. I selected one of the books, returned to my desk and leaned back to read.
As soon as I finished the first chapter of ‘War of the World’, I heard a shuffling of feet. I turned and sure enough, rummaging about that particular bookshelf was another student. He picked a book then sat at a table about three yards away. Like me he leaned back to read.
I could not remember how long I was there, but all too soon, an announcement came over the speaker saying that the library was about to close. I returned the book to its shelf and turned to leave. He was still reading.
The next day, I went to the library immediately after class, gobbling up my sandwich lunch on my way there. I was supposed to show the first draft of my thesis to my professor next Tuesday and I hadn’t managed to collect all the references I needed to support the argument I was building up to. On top of that, I only had five hours before I had to turn up for my part-time job.
I collected works by Schumpeter, Keynes and Engels before taking a seat in my usual corner. The temptation to look through the shelves was strong, but my will to collect quotes was even stronger. While I was at it, I also made notations of current news which I felt could either support or reject the theories of these two Economists and one Socialist.
About two hours later I began to feel a slight pinch in the small of my back, so I straightened my spine and stretched. I saw the same student again, riffling through the shelves of ‘Code Unknown’. I decided that since I had collected most of what I needed, I deserved a thirty-minute break. I got up and immediately stumbled on my own foot but managed to grab the table to stop my fall. I treaded to the shelf.
“Have you read any of these before?” he asked in a whisper.
“The fictions? Yes, they are my favorites. I have always wanted to read them again,” I said and smiled.
“Churchill’s work too?”
“That is on my to-read list, but I could never seem to find the time.”
“Well you have time now.”
“Only thirty minutes. Then I have to go back to working on my thesis.”
“Is it important?”
I stared at him, a little surprised. “Of course it is. I won’t be able to graduate without it.”
“I guess,” he said with a shrug.
Then I saw. Beyond the line of books in front of me were more shelves, filled with more books. “When did they put this all in?”
“Oh, they’ve always been here.”
“Strange. I’ve never noticed them.” With a sigh I put back Poe’s ‘Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque’, saying, “I really should return to my work.”
“Stay,” he said, “You have time now.”
I gave him a curt polite smile and turned away. I froze, on finding myself looking down at me who now lay flat on my stomach on the floor.
“Stay,” he said again. “You have time now.”
Professor Miyagi shook his head from side to side in disbelief. “She is such a hardworking student.”
The librarian adjusted his square rimmed glasses. “Yes, we see her come in everyday and leave at around eight at night. But she always stayed until closing time during the weekend.”
The police officer who was taking notes asked, “Has anything similar ever happened before?”
The librarian stared to the ceiling for a moment. “There were two cases of students fainting in previous years. However, they were both revived immediately because someone heard them and investigated.”
“Sound travels far here,” the professor explained.
The officer looked about him, at the rows of empty shelves. “I thought that libraries are supposed to carry books.”
“This is a new section of the building,” the librarian said. “We receive about two to three hundred out-of-print or first edition volumes from donors every year. These shelves were put up based on our ten-year projection.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “After the two cases, I asked management to move away the desk from this area, but we kept receiving a complaint from a male student and we had to put it back.”
“Do you know who this student is?”
“No. Nobody ever noted down his name. At first we thought that it was one of the male students who come here, but they all have their own favorite nook.”
Professor Miyagi stared down at the notepad on the table then pinched the bridge of his nose as though to rid himself of a bad headache. The words, ‘draft due on tuesday’ was written over and over across more than twenty pages.
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