Continuation of Choice Words and Missing Words.
As much as she loved having people in the library, and to foster a love of books in her community, sometimes Ms. Millward appreciated the library being closed on Mondays. It gave her a chance to catch up on paperwork, clean, maybe read a little. It was peaceful, walking the aisles without having to dodge children or shush loud guests. And the morning light in the antiques room was really something; the stained glass threw bright spots of light across the room, dancing in a way that seemed slightly otherworldly.
Unfortunately, she still had ink to clean off the ceiling. That cursed bibliodemon had really done a number on the moulding. Ms. Millward stared up at the ink spots, and rolled up her sleeves. No time like the present. The paperwork could wait, and she really wanted to have a clean slate this week. No demons, no serial killers. Maybe a few squabbles at book club, that could be okay.
Ms. Millward positioned the ladder under the worst of the ink, carefully climbing up. She pulled the rag and spray bottle out of her pockets, and started scrubbing. The ladder wasn’t quite in the right spot, so she was cleaning at an uncomfortable angle. She leaned further back, trying to get at the troublesome ink.
She didn’t know what happened. She had slid her foot, just a bit, to help her balance, when suddenly she found herself falling back, and fast.
“Well, this isn’t good,” she thought to herself, and then everything went dark.
–
Ms. Millward opened her eyes, squinting in the bright light. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. It looked like the antiques room at the library, but without color. It was like she had dropped into a black-and-white movie. She sat at a small table, tucked into the corner of the room. She sighed. Strange things always came in threes.
“Mildred,” a deep voice said, coming from the empty seat across from her, “it’s nice to see you, finally.”
“What? Who are…” she stopped, realization flooding her mind. “I died, didn’t I?”
“I am afraid so,” the voice said. It was a fairly soothing voice, considering the circumstances; calm, rich, with a musical note she couldn’t quite grasp.
She giggled.
“Excuse me,” the voice said, polite but puzzled, “what seems to be amusing?”
“It’s nothing,” Ms. Millward said, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I just had the thought that your voice would be wonderful for audiobooks.”
There was a pause, as if the voice was trying to figure out what to say. “Thank you,” it finally said, and she could hear that it was pleased. “That may be one of the kindest things anyone has said to me.”
“I’m sure there is generally much more screaming and pleading,” Ms. Millward replied.
“You have no idea,” the voice sighed.
She smiled. “I work – I supposed worked would be more accurate – in a rather unusual library. I figured something like this would happen eventually.”
“I’ve always admired this place,” the voice said, “always neat as a pin, and the collection! Very impressive. I am very fond of your comic book selection.”
Ms. Millward beamed. “I am rather proud of that one, actually. I found that it really draws the young people, and some of them even take the time to explore the rest of the library, as well.”
“And I must say,” the voice added, “I’ve noticed that I’ve needed to make less… work visits, to this particular library during your tenure.”
Ms. Millward nodded. “I do my best.”
The voice chuckled. “At one time, I was here every few weeks! That particular librarian didn’t have the touch, or the knowledge, that you have.”
“On that note,” Ms. Millward said, hesitantly, “what is going to happen to the library now?”
There was another pause, as if the voice was weighing options.
“How about this?” it finally asked. “I admire you, your work, so I would like to give you a chance to continue doing such a good job.” A chessboard appeared on the table between them. “If you win, you can go back to your library, and we will meet again in a year and a day. That would give you time to set your affairs in order, find a replacement, and such.”
“And if I lose?”
“You come with me now,” the voice said.
Ms. Millward thought for a moment, then straightened her glasses. “You are on.”
Pieces appeared on the board.
“I will let you go first,” the voice said, graciously.
“Thank you,” Ms. Millward said, studying the board for a moment before moving a white pawn.
“Have you played much chess?” the voice asked, as a black pawn slid forward on its own.
“Some,” Ms. Millward smiled wistfully. “Mostly with my father when I was a child, but I found a lovely group online who plays through the computer, and have taken to practicing with them at least once a week.”
“Well, then,” the voice replied, “I better pay attention.”
The game went smoothly, the two sides fairly matched. They didn’t speak much. Ms. Millward was focused on the game; she was, literally, playing for her life.
After about fifteen minutes, though, Ms. Millward could see that there wasn’t much she could do. She watched as piece after piece was removed from the board, mostly hers. Finally, she looked back up at the empty chair.
“What happens if I concede?”
“It’s the same as if I win,” the voice said.
An idea occurred to Ms. Millward. “How about a compromise?”
“What kind of compromise?” the voice asked, warily.
“You are familiar with my friend, Agatha?”
“Of course.”
“Well,” she said, willing herself to stay calm. “It seemed like it was often a struggle for Agatha to come through, and make herself known. Especially if there were… other things, happening in the library.”
“Yes?”
Ms. Millward rushed on. “What if I concede, and since I didn’t fully lose, you give me the year and a day as a spirit, with an easier path to the library. That way, I can still help my replacement, but I go with you, now.”
She held her breath. Was she pushing her luck?
The voice was quiet for so long that she wondered if it had left. Finally, there was a rumbling noise that she realized was laughter.
“Very impressive,” the voice said, and she could feel its smile. “I have to say, that is one of the most compelling arguments I’ve heard, and it actually seems rather fair.”
The chessboard vanished, and a doorway opened next to her chair, with light flooding through it.
“You have a deal.”
She stood, taking one last look at the library. Ms. Millward felt an ache in her chest; she would deeply miss this place. Then she rolled her shoulders back, brushing out her skirt. Well, no sense putting this off. She walked toward the gleaming doorway, but paused.
“Did I ever have a chance?” she asked.
“Of winning?”
She nodded.
“I think you already know the answer.”
She nodded again. “That’s what I thought.”
And she stepped through the doorway, and into the light.
–
Cait climbed the stairs to the library front door with the mayor, trying not to show her excitement. The building itself was beautiful, and she knew the collections were impressive. Having just graduated with her MLIS degree, she was thrilled at this opportunity.
There were a few strange things about it, though. The mayor had reached out to her in particular with the opportunity, something that hadn’t happened to any of her peers. And she had been hired with only a phone interview, and given a week to pack up her life and move across the country.
She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like this was just the right place for her to be right now. She didn’t examine the thought too closely, in case logic and reason made her realize she was slightly crazy for doing this.
“Can I ask,” she said, as the mayor dug out a key and opened the front door, “what happened to the previous librarian?”
“Oh, uh,” he said, fiddling with the key before handing it to her. “Ms. Millward was with the library for a long time. She was very… dedicated.”
“Okay,” Cait said, slowly, waiting for more information.
“Well,” the mayor mumbled, “you see, Ms. Millward, uh, she… passed, here. In the library,” he said, in clarification.
“Oh,” Cait said, a shiver running down her spine. Well, that was something. “Hopefully she isn’t haunting it!” she smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but the mayor went pale.
“You do know about our library, don’t you?”
“Know?”
He seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “It’s very… unusual. Things, happen.”
Cait raised her eyebrows. What had she gotten herself into?
The mayor smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he said, raising his hand as if to pat her on the shoulder, then deciding against it.
They entered the library, and Cait was struck again at how lucky she was, regardless of how odd the situation. She couldn’t wait to explore the place, get a sense of the layout, peruse the shelves and see what treasures she could find.
The mayor showed her the front desk, her office, and made sure she felt comfortable with the systems in place.
“You are free to change things, within reason,” he assured her. “Some of the groups who meet here would like to keep their days and times, if possible, but if you want to change-”
“I wouldn’t dream of making people change their schedules!” she said, “but I might update the computer system a little, if I have the budget.”
“Anything you need,” he said, and he seemed relieved she was still there, still willing to take the job. Just what was so strange about this library?
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” the mayor said, heading toward the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up when you leave.”
“I won’t. Goodbye!”
But he was already gone.
“Okay,” Cait said under her breath. “That was weird.”
She paused in the foyer, trying to decide what to do first. She should familiarize herself with the paperwork, the current computer system, and the event schedule, but the lure of the shelves proved too great.
She wandered the aisles, running her fingers along spines, squatting down to look at lower shelves and standing on tip-toe to see the top. She glanced up at one point, and the murals on the ceiling kept her motionless for a good five minutes. She found all the usual sections (non-fiction, romance, mystery) but found some that seemed unusual, like a small room full of comic books, another full of books about the occult, and a third that seemed to just have copies of Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World.
Shaking her head at the oddness of the last room, she walked into the next and gasped. This must be their antique collection. The shelves dipped in the middle, sagging after decades holding their charges. The books themselves were stunning, and she was shocked that they weren’t under glass in a museum.
Cait was admiring the stained glass windows when she noticed some black marks on the ceiling. She frowned. Was there mold in here? That was the last thing she wanted to deal with, plus it would be incredibly harmful for the books. She walked a few steps closer, squinting up. It almost looked like ink splatter, but how could it have gotten all the way up there?
“I’d leave the ink there, if I were you.”
Cait jumped, spinning around to the empty room. “What? Who’s there?”
“Over here,” the voice said again, and Cait’s eyes fell on a woman she’d swear wasn’t there seconds ago.
The woman had her hands on her hips, assessing her. Cait blinked. Was the woman… shimmering? How was that possible?
“Well, what’s your name?”
“Cait,” she replied automatically. “Who are you?”
The woman smiled. “I am Ms. Millward. Although, since we are to be colleagues, I suppose you can call me Mildred.”
“Ms…” Cait gasped. “The previous librarian? But I thought… aren’t you…”
“Dead? I’m afraid so,” the woman said, and she chuckled.
“But, how…” Cait shook her head. “It must be mold up there. I’m hallucinating, right?”
“Heaven’s no, it’s not mold. That would be disastrous for the books,” Ms. Millward said. “It’s ink from a rather expressive bibliodemon some children summoned a few days ago. You’d best keep an eye out for them.”
“A biblio… a what?” Cait closed her eyes. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t real…
“A bibliodemon,” came the crisp reply. “There are many summoning books in this collection, and while I encourage intellectual inquiry, I don’t condone the practice.”
Cait took a deep breath. “Does the mayor, the town, know about this?”
“Of course,” Ms. Millward replied, then shrugged. “Well, in a way. They know things happen here, and that it’s best not to speak of it too much. Lest the wrong kind of people get ideas.”
Cait’s voice shook. “What do you want with me?”
“Well,” Ms. Millward said, tilting her head. “First, I want to make sure you are comfortable working here still. This isn’t like any other library you’ve worked in.”
Cait thought about it for a moment. Her brain was telling her to run for the hills. She was talking to a ghost! But something deep inside, some instinct that she had always known was there, told her that this was the place to be.
“I think,” she said, looking back up at Ms. Millward, “that is this the place I should be right now.”
Ms. Millward smiled. “I had the same feeling when I first started here. I think you will do well.”
She turned, heading out back to the foyer. “We’ll start with the catacombs. That’s where the more… volatile, items are kept.”
Cait followed the ghost, her mind racing. This was going to be the strangest and most interesting job she’d ever had, and she couldn’t wait to start.
Inspired by a writing prompt from Writing Prompt Generator.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020