The Librarian’s Secret – Chapter One

Kathryn cherished her Sunday mornings. Her usual ritual of curling up on the sofa with her toy poodle Emilia and a fresh brewed cup of Seattle’s Best created a necessary rhythm in her weekly routine. The welcome solitude was a departure from the barrage of questions that consumed the rest of her week.

Her flannel jammies comforted her as she watched the first winter snow accumulate on the window sill behind her sofa. She wrapped a comforter around her legs and feet and took a first sip of brew.

She slipped her finger beneath the cover and first few pages of Tolstoy’s classic Anna Karenina, and opened the musty old novel. How she loved the smell of an aged book. The feel of a worn cover felt like the hand of an old friend embracing hers. She flipped a few pages until she found the familiar beginning of her favorite story.

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

“Emilia,” she said, searching for the first glimpse of her best friend bounding across the wooden floor. “C’mere girl.”

Emilia emerged from the kitchen and slowly trotted to the sofa. She vaulted onto Kathryn’s lap and found a comfortable place to curl up. Kathryn took another sip of coffee and set the cup on the old wooden sofa table, then settled in with Mr. Tolstoy for one more read of Anna.

* * *

Aaron opened another drawer in his desk and began pushing items around at random. He searched diligently but did not find the slip of paper he was sure was somewhere in his office. Rubbing his chin he tried to remember where he had placed it. He picked up the picture he kept on his desk and slid the back out of the frame. He took a quick glance but found nothing. He slid the back into the frame and set it back on the desk.

How could I have been so careless, he thought to himself.

A faint tap on his door drew his attention away from the task at hand. Looking up he saw Rachel, a first year student at Yeshua University, poking her head around the corner.

“Professor Rivka, do you have a minute?” she asked.

“Certainly Rachel, come in, come in.”

Snow clung to her blond curls and the shoulders of her black wool coat. She slipped her satchel over her head and set it on a chair.

“What do you need my dear?” Professor Rivka asked.

“Well, I have to write a paper on the history of the land God gave to Israel. I keep coming across the term, Levant. What exactly is that?”

“Ah, yes, Levant. It is Arabic you know, and simply means “where the sun rises” or “where the land rises out of the sea”, a meaning attributed to the region’s easterly location on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. It was the geographical area which today encompasses the countries of Lebanon, Israel, Syria, Palestine, Jordan, Iraq, and occasionally Cyprus and the Sinai.”

Heading for the door he motioned for Rachel to follow. She grabbed her satchel and trotted to catch up.

Professor Rivka made his way down the hall and into the main room of the World Antiquities Library and Museum of New York.

He looked Rachel straight in the eye and asked, “Have you called your mother this week?”

“I have been very busy the last couple of weeks. I have finals next week and I have 4 papers to write as well as preparing for the tests.”

He stopped and grasped Rachel by both shoulders. “That is no excuse. Your mother, what did she ever do to be treated this way by you? Hmm? Where is your cell phone?”

Rachel flipped the satchel open and searched until she found it.

“Here it is,” she said.

“Good. Now call your Mother while I find the book you need.”

He turned and continued towards the bookshelves leaving her with no choice.

He scanned the rows until he found the section he was looking for. He ran his finger along the neatly stored books until he found a copy of The Levant: History and Archaeology in the Eastern Mediterranean.

He pulled the book off the shelf and returned to eves drop on Rachel.

“But Mom, I can’t do that. I have things I need to do here at the University this weekend.”

Rachel eyed Professor Rivka and stuck out her tongue at him.

“In my day, young ladies respected their elders,” he said, pointing his finger at her nose then motioning her to follow him to the checkout desk.

“I know Mom, but I just can’t come home for a dinner with Joseph what’s his name.”

She set her satchel on the counter and searched for her wallet. She pulled her library card out and handed it to the Professor.

“Ok, ok, Joseph Goldman. But I can’t come home.”

“But Mom. Ok, but just Saturday, alright? Yes, goodbye.”

Rachel tossed her phone in her satchel and glared at Professor Rivka.

“This is all your fault you know. Now I have to pretend to be interested in the nice Jewish boy momma wants me to meet.”

“Well, who knows. Maybe he is a nice Jewish boy.”

Rachel stuffed the book in her satchel and headed for the door.

“I don’t know why I bother coming here to ask your help.”

“I promised your mother.”

“Well, I didn’t. Gotta run. See you next week.”

“Goodbye Rachel. Good luck on your test. Say hello to that nice Jewish boy for me.”

© 2009, John Pearson. All rights reserved
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