Through the Anytime

Izzie Thomason enjoyed going to the library. He would pull books from shelves at random and curl up into the safety of the plush wooden chair in the corner to read. His best friend, Lisabelle Rolean, berated him often for his desire to read, but he ignored that. She couldn't understand the power the words of books had over him: how he could use the words to create lands and times beyond everything he had ever known. Lisabelle understood the tangible, not the metaphysical, and Izzie would do everything he could to change her mind.

One Thursday evening, after school had finished running its course, Izzie pulled Lisabelle after him into the library. He kept his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He'd stored his week's allowance in smooth coins and crumpled bills. It would be enough money to get large ice cream cones for both him and Lisabelle. If she only gave books a chance, she could find an escape from her own life. He was aware of the struggles she faced and wanted to do whatever he could. Even if it took extrinsic motivation to convince her to like books and reading, he would do it.

"I don't understand why you like this place." Lisabelle folded her arms over her chest yet continued to follow Izzie through the winding stacks of books. "It stinks of dust and forgotten memories in here."

Izzie pulled a velvet-bound book from the shelf and held it up to his nose. He took a deep breath and grinned. "Lisa, what are you talking about? Old Book Smell is one of the best scents that there is. It should be one of the perfumes they sell in those fancy stores."

Lisabelle laughed; a tinkling laugh that sounded like a bunch of bells ringing. She took the book from Izzie and slid it back onto the shelf. As she did so, there was a soft clanging noise. She looked at her best friend skeptically. "And libraries also make mysterious clanging noises? Haunted house, much?"

Izzie shook his head as confusion passed over his face. "Books don't do that." He peeked over the edge of the shelf, afraid that he would see someone beyond them holding a powerful atomic weapon...but there was nothing. Nothing except rows upon rows of books, a sleeping old woman in a chair, and the flickering of the lights. He felt a breeze blowing over his back, and he turned around with a start.

Lisabelle grabbed Izzie's shoulder, her face a mask of fear. "Look up," she whispered feverishly. Izzie slowly turned his face upwards. His jaw dropped in awe. "What do you think that is, Izzie? A time machine?"

There, on the roof of the library, was a steel machine containing a twisting hole into nothing. Colors swirled within the hole: burnt oranges, faded purples, and electric blues. The hole was a vortex, pulling the library's air into itself in great swaths. The machine itself had ten deep grooves along the edges. Each was a slightly darker gray than the rest of the machine. As the two watched, a page ripped from the velvet-bound book and fluttered into the hole. The clothes of the two friends tugged on their bodies in an effort to reach the spiral into nowhere and everywhere.

Izzie forced himself out of his horrid fascination and sprang into action. He reached for the velvet-bound book, lifted it up an inch, and slammed it back down. The machine took one final breath of air then vanished, leaving the normal oak planks of the roof behind in its wake.The air suddenly became very still. Izzie hugged himself and shuddered. Lisabelle looked equally frightened.

"We are going to pretend that never happened." Izzie tried to put as much calmness into his voice as possible. "There was no machine on the library roof." After a long pause, Lisabelle nodded. Izzie straightened his binder, adjusted his clothes, and reached for his friend's hand. "Let's go and get some ice cream."

He didn't miss how Lisabelle looked up one final time before following him.

~

Lisabelle didn't show up to school the next day. Izzie looked for her in every class, but she was simply gone. He reasoned that she must be sick. Even still, it wasn't like her to not go to school without telling him. He spent the seven hours at school as a miserable lump. Without Lisabelle's friendly face beside him, he had trouble standing up for himself. He didn't correct people's usage of the wrong pronouns or his dead name. He didn't feel strong enough.