Movieland

Chapter 15

The town library was the library for the entire county. It was a building from the 1950s made new. Renovations turned a sad brown lawn into a colorful outdoor play space for children. The stale and creaky wooden tables and shelves transformed into organic open spaces with couches and community rooms. Collaboration was key. The old computer lab— two computers next to the checkout counter that were always booked out and cost $5/hr— became a separate glass room with its own printer. The back corner that used to house DVDS and VHS cassettes was now dedicated to local art, from age 3 (an abstract series of colorful crayon scratches titled "Porter's drawing") to 88 (a watercolor portrait of Standard Lane titled "Dream Man, Then and Now"). They still had a room in the back dedicated to watching old projector reels. The old traditions were retained while also updating for a modern crowd.

It also ran a monthly Speaker Series, featuring everyone from businesswomen to bakers to authors. No one cared where you came from as long as you had an interesting story to tell.

Mom had the night off. She and Dad insisted on joining me and Carolina for the Paul Graham Jones speech. He was a local author and high school classmate of my fathers who had received a fair amount of acclaim for his first novel, "The Native". The book flap summarized it as a Native American boy desperately helping his family survive in a post-apocalyptic Western state overrun with giant killer rabbits. Also, there were ghosts. Although that part was up for debate. Carolina read it and believed the ghosts were imagined. I thought they were real, and really scary. I suppose that was the beauty of books. Different interpretations.

The reading was held in a glass walled room with rows of folding chairs and tables in the back with snacks and refreshments. Butts filled the seats early. Carolina and I helped carry more chairs to create extra room. Those filled, and folks stood along the walls to watch him speak.

Mrs. Peacock, an old cartoon gnome in human form, was Lindley's librarian, the one who shushes, and the host. She'd been doling out late fees since my parents were kids.

"Good evening. Thank you all for coming. Before I introduce our special guest reader, I am especially excited to surprise him. Paul, I still remember the first book you checked out of the library: Stephen King's The Stand. That was far too mature for an eleven-year-old, but you insisted. He was your hero. You wanted to be like him one day. Who was I to argue? From there, you read all of King's books, and many others, and then turned into one yourself. But beyond that, you volunteered to assist with our young readers program. You single handedly shaped a generation of Lindley children into more engaged and active readers. For that, we thank you."

Paul Graham Jones beamed with pride. He sported impressive long brown hair that belonged in a movie. It was cinched into a ponytail with what looked to be an actual bread bag twist tie. He wore blue jeans and a t shirt with a Michael Myers mask. None of my English teachers were as cool as him.

"He's had that shirt since high school," Dad said. "Vintage."

Mrs. Peacock continued: "I also remember the first story you ever wrote. I know it was the first story you ever wrote because you quaked with fear when you shared it with me before you submitted it to the Hamilton Elementary 5th grade writer's competition. I don't recall the name of the story, but I still know the opening line to this day. And I quote: 'For the better part of her youth, even after she met the filmmaker, she was fascinated by the town's curious relationship with magic.' Paul, you are a true and loyal member of the Lindley community. We celebrate your successes and appreciate all you have done for us. To that end, the Lindley Public Library is happy to officially announce this room is now called the Paul Graham Jones Reading Room. Paul, you have inspired a generation of readers to break from their comfort zones, to explore their passions, and to never give up. Thank you."