The Stacks

Chapter 2: Friday with Friends

Song: "You Raise Me Up" By Josh Groban

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The next day was blustery and colder, with the threat of rain or even sleet in the air. There wasn't much sunshine, but that didn't bother me. I bundled up again for my daily walk to the library. Even with the foul weather, it hardly made sense for me to get into my car and drive the few blocks to work; instead, I grabbed my umbrella and ventured out.

The same scene played out as most mornings do. I greeted Gabby, she grumbled back to me. I brought coffee for Beth. I fetched the book cart and headed to the basement book return. The bin wasn't nearly as full this morning, thankfully. Still, there were several returns to go to the third floor. It puzzled me that so many books could get checked out from the most deserted floor of the library. Maybe I was wrong about that Google statistic. Still, the patrons who actually visit the third floor must come and go quickly, eager to spend as little time in the eerie place as possible. I literally never (okay, almost never) encounter people up there.

As I waited for the ancient elevator to climb a mere three stories, I wondered if that same guy was there. Probably not, since he'd been there just about all day the day before and he most likely got all the information he needed. But for some odd reason, my curiosity was getting the better of me, so I hoped he was.

The cart groaned as I pushed it towards the back, always my starting place. Sure enough, when I passed the second to the last row, there he was, hunched over another stack of books. Or maybe the same stack, I'd have to get closer to see them this time as they were faced away from me. It looked like he hadn't changed clothes; I wondered if he had actually stayed here all this time. The person with closing duties - I think it was Kami last night - was supposed to do a sweep of each floor, sending patrons home and putting away books that had been left out. She would have seen him so I didn't think that was a real possibility, but it honestly looked like he hadn't moved an inch.

This time, I left my cart and purposely walked over to him. "Good morning," I said softly, hoping not to startle him. He glanced up ever so briefly and then went back to his reading. What I saw in that fleeting look was that he had a very scruffy beard and green eyes. He hadn't really even made eye contact, but I could see they were green anyway. I was a little put off by the fact that he didn't say anything in return, but still I politely said, "Let me know if you need anything," and went to start shelving the books.

The rest of the week went much the same way. He was there before I got to the third floor with books on Wednesday; I wondered how he got there without me seeing him coming or going. On Thursday, I normally worked from noon to 10 PM with a long break for dinner. Someone else took care of checking books in on Thursdays, but I went to the third floor anyway. Just to see. I pretended I was looking for a specific book and found that he was, indeed, present. Each time I saw him, I sent out a polite, "Hello" or "Good Morning," but he never said a word. He always just glanced up for just a moment, and then went back to his books. 

I was beginning to think more and more that the guy had to be homeless. Maybe it wasn't fair to assume, but it would make sense in some ways. There were a few bars just down the street, and most stayed open til two or three in the morning. Those would be places for him to stay warm if the homeless shelters were turning people away. Then he would just have to find a spot out of the wind and cold until the library opened up. Some coffee shops opened really early, and at least one within walking distance stayed open 24 hours. If he timed it all right, he could always be warm, as long as he had money for beer and coffee.

I felt a little silly trying to piece together his life like that, but he was rather...unusual. Kami was working with me tonight, but I told her I would do the closing rounds. I went to the third floor, hoping he was still there so I might just speak more than one word to him. And maybe when he left, I could at least watch the direction in which he was headed. Not that I was planning to follow him or anything creepy, but I was beginning to think maybe he needed some help. If I could find out, maybe I could buy him some food, at least, or give him a little money. Who knows? I might even know where he could look for a job.