Stay Strong

The Scholar's World

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of adaptation and discovery for Carina. True to his word, George took it upon himself to help her navigate this unfamiliar time. As he had promised, he began introducing her to his world—a world of books, academia, and quiet defiance against the constraints of 1930s society.

Carina soon learned that George worked as a junior librarian and part-time researcher for a nearby university. His flat, small as it was, housed an impressive collection of books stacked on every available surface.

“Not much of a social life, I’m afraid,” George admitted with a grin one afternoon, gesturing to the shelves that lined his living room. “But it keeps me out of trouble.”

Carina picked up a worn leather-bound volume, tracing her fingers over its embossed cover. “You’re really passionate about this, aren’t you?”

“It’s more than just passion,” George replied, his tone suddenly serious. “Books are... a way to understand the world, to challenge it. They’re windows into possibilities. And sometimes, they’re the only way to fight back.”

Carina raised an eyebrow. “Fight back against what?”

“Against ignorance. Prejudice. Small-mindedness,” he said, his blue eyes flashing. “This world isn’t perfect, Carina. If you’ve come from somewhere... better, you’ll see that soon enough.”

George took Carina to the university for the first time on a bright, crisp morning. She was nervous about stepping into such a public space, but George assured her that she wouldn’t attract much attention.

“You’ll fit right in,” he said as they walked up the stone steps of the grand building.

Inside, the atmosphere was entirely different from the bustling streets of the town. The hallways were quiet, lined with heavy wooden doors that bore brass nameplates. Students and faculty alike moved through the corridors with an air of purpose, their arms full of books and papers.

George led Carina to a small, dimly lit office at the end of a hallway. Inside, a bespectacled man in his fifties sat hunched over a desk piled high with documents.

“Professor Merrick,” George said, knocking lightly on the doorframe. “I’ve brought someone I’d like you to meet.”

The professor looked up, his gray eyes sharp behind his glasses. “And who might this be?”

“This is Carina,” George said, motioning for her to step forward. “She’s new in town and has a keen interest in history.”

Carina extended a hand, hoping her nerves didn’t show. “It’s nice to meet you, Professor.”

He shook her hand, studying her intently. “New in town, you say? You’ve got an unusual accent. Where are you from?”

Carina hesitated, searching for an answer. George quickly interjected, “She’s traveled around a bit. Hard to pin down one place.”

Professor Merrick didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Well, any friend of George’s is welcome here. If you’re interested in history, you’ve come to the right place.”

Over the following days, Carina spent hours in the university library, poring over books that detailed the events of the 1930s. She was struck by how much of the world’s history she had taken for granted in her own time.

George often joined her, pointing out key details or explaining concepts she struggled to grasp. Their shared love of learning created a bond that felt natural and easy, despite the strangeness of her situation.

“You’re picking this up fast,” George remarked one evening as they walked home. “It’s like you’ve always been a part of this world.”

Carina smiled faintly, though the truth weighed heavily on her. She wasn’t a part of this world, and she never would be—not really.

One afternoon, as they sat in a quiet corner of the library, Carina finally broached the question that had been nagging at her.

“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?” she asked, her voice low.

George looked at her, surprised by the question. “All the time,” he admitted. “I grew up in a small town where people didn’t understand why I cared so much about books or ideas. They thought I was... strange.”

Carina nodded, understanding the feeling all too well.

“But here’s the thing,” George continued. “Belonging isn’t about fitting in. It’s about finding the people who see you for who you are and don’t ask you to change.”

Carina met his gaze, her chest tightening with emotion. For the first time since stepping through the door, she felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in this strange and challenging world, she could find a place where she truly belonged.