“If you’re not allowed to say what’s in the collection, how do people know to ask about them?”
“Garrett,” Opal hissed, nudging him to try to make him shut up.
“As I said, only a select few have access to those books. One of the reasons is that they are old and brittle. If they were not to be handled with care, they could be damaged beyond readability.”
“What kind of profession do you have to have in order to have access to it?” pressed Garrett, not willing to let the matter go.
Her eyes widening, Opal gave Garrett her signature you’re going too far look, but he ignored it. He was going to continue pushing until he got the answers he needed.
With a gruff sigh, Miss Lyons responded, “Some of them are the esteemed members of City Hall, others are professors, researchers and the like. Now, we have arrived at a section that I would like to further elucidate you on. It houses one of my favorite collections and I’m sure you’ll be intrigued by it. There will be no more discussion on the Special Collections Room.”
Garrett wanted to press the issue forward, but Miss Lyons wouldn’t even look at him or acknowledge his presence in the room. Her voice had elevated to the point where it was clear that she wanted to be listened to, not do the listening herself.
The rest of the tour and shadowing continued uneventfully. Garrett didn’t get any more of his questions answered, nor were they even allowed to visit the fifth floor, which was conveniently closed off for renovating. Miss Lyons had returned to her kind self and bid them farewell at the circulation desk when the tour was over.
Once outside the library, Opal grabbed Garret’s elbow and whisked him around to face her. “What was that all about?”
“I just wanted to learn more about that mysterious room. Why are they hiding it? What does she have in there that is so secretive she couldn’t tell me about it?”
“Maybe she herself doesn’t know what is in there.”
“Opal, come on! She’s the head librarian, she has to know!”
“Not necessarily. If it is so secretive, perhaps even she isn’t allowed in there.”
Garrett gave Opal an incredulous stare. He knew his friend was smarter than that. “I highly doubt it.”
“Anyway, we still have one more tour to go on. It looks like we’re headed to the art museum next.”
Garrett rolled his eyes outside of Opal’s view since she was staring down at the pamphlet. “Fine, lead the way.
Chapter 9
The day couldn’t have gone slower for Garrett. The shadowing of the artist was about as boring as could be and he discovered he truly had no talent for art. All he could think of throughout the rest of the day was how something in the Special Collections Room had to hold the secrets about The Council. If Anaxia Library held every book ever written, then surely a book on The Council would be there.
Running home to change clothes, he chose the one pair of pants he owned with eight pockets and stuffed them full of what he’d need for a long afternoon at the library. This time, he remembered to pack his sciorb and a small notebook for any interesting notes he wished to take. Checking to ensure he had everything and that his pockets weren’t too abnormally poochie, he closed the door to his room and snuck out of the house.
The ride to the transport station near the Undecided sector wasn’t as intriguing to him as it had been last time. Neither was the walk to the sector. All the while his thoughts were consumed with what he might find in the library once he got there. Not to mention that the librarian April entered his mind periodically as well. He couldn’t get her enthusiasm for knowledge, yet the disappointment of not being able to fulfill the Life Plan she’d chosen for herself out of his head.
Entering the sector, his eyes darted around watching for the old woman from yesterday. Garrett knew it was foolish, chances were that the old lady wasn’t even looking for him. The old woman was nowhere to be seen and his nerves eased a bit. He didn’t know what the consequences of slumming the Undecided sector were and he didn’t want to find out.
As they had yesterday, the throngs of people thinned out as he headed down the side streets toward the library. By the time he turned the last corner and arrived at Darrington Street, all semblances of human beings disappeared. The houses on the opposite side of the library appeared to be uninhabited. No lights shone inside and the grass outside grew high as if no one bothered to maintain it.
Ignoring the ghostly presence of those empty homes, Garrett turned at the library and quickened his pace up the steps. Opening the door, he shouted, “April, are you here? It’s Garrett. You know, the guy who was here yesterday.”
“Hey, Garrett,” breathlessly spoke April, coming around the corner and startling him so much that he nearly yelled. She carried a stack of books that towered from her waist to the bottom of her tilted up chin. “So, you came back.”
“Yeah,” Garrett reached out, “here, let me help you with those.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m used to carrying heavy loads of books on my own.” April turned toward the stairs and stepped onto the first stair.
“Are you sure? I can help you.”
“Nope, no need,” reassured April, blowing the loose strand of hair in front of her face aside and taking the next step.
Garrett followed April up the stairs, going slowly one by one. All the while, he kept thinking that he should have insisted on helping her with the books. Instead, he
