Nobody Says It's Easy

49

Hadley hopped into Old Betsy and sped across the trestle. Two volunteer fire engines were on the scene. Another was unloading its hoses. The walls of the library were engulfed in flames. Young volunteer firemen were hosing down nearby buildings.

"We're lucky," an older gentleman said. "No wind. Hate to see this go up in smoke, though. Don't worry, ma'am. We got this under control. Only this one building is going to be damaged. Good thing it was built away from the others."

"Was anybody hurt?"

"No," he said. "There's nobody much to get hurt around here. Durmonth doesn't see much traffic any more."

"You're right," Hadley said. "It reminds me of the Roaring Twenties."

"That it does. This place was something back then."

"I've been reading a little about your town," said Hadley.

"Oh, this ain't my town. I come from the next ridge over. But there are stories about this place. Plenty of stories."

"I gathered this used to be a rough neck of the woods."

"You said it. The North and South might have settled their differences in '65," the old man said, "but not so with the folks here and on the other side of the river. They were like cats and dogs. Like night and day. Durmonth and Hellfire with the Divine Sinful. Hah. It was like having the heaven's gates right next to the entrance of Satan's driveway! Now, if you'll excuse me, ma'am, I gotta help Hack."

He walked over to the other men, "Aim the hose on the over there, Hack. Jimmy! Put some water on those embers over yonder."

She shook her head. Everything in the library was gone.

"You sure the librarian wasn't working today," Hadley yelled. "It's a pity she'll lose her job. She was quite nice,"

"Librarian? What librarian?" the old man said. "This place hasn't been a working library in over forty years."