Dear diary,
Phew, it’s good to be back. If home is where the heart is,, and in my case, it’s 612.1. And I think I’ve found someone who loves the library just as much as me.
It was a quiet afternoon, and I’d been rushing through the shelving with ease. I’d chewed my way through Bibliographies and devoured Non-Fiction, and was just contemplating dessert – Junior. I made to move the trolley but it wouldn’t budge. I pulled the handlebars again experimentally, but the far corner was rooted to the spot. I circled the trolley but couldn’t find the cause of the problem, and whenever I tried to move the trolley, it was always the corner furthest from me that was firmly stuck in place.
So I climbed on top of the trolley (I would later receive a dressing down from Boudecia about my neglect of the sacred I swore to uphold OH&S regulations), and peered over the edge. There was a small girl standing there, her head barely topping the height of the trolley, brown hair camouflaged against the varnished mahogany of the wooden tiers. Hey, we’re receiving extra funding from BiblioTech now, so we can afford to indulge a little.
At first the girl just stood there staring at me with the wide, honest eyes of a preppie. Falling back into talking-to-kids mode, I squatted next to her – they tend to bond with people their own height, rather than looming authority figures – and asked her what books she’d like to read from my trolley. She blinked at me, and I realised she was going to be tricky. I asked if she wanted me to read to her, as this either makes them feel comfortable or gets rid of them, either option looking favourable at this point.
“I don’t like you. You’re patronizing me,” she stated. Her tone and vocabulary took me by surprise. She was very more cleverer than I’d thought.
“Well, you are a patron of the library, so by coming here you’re choosing to be ‘patron-ised’,” I replied. Take that, small child!
But she was unfazed. She held me in a staring contest, one that any child can easily win, and soon I was forced to cast my gaze downward. She began sifting through the books on my trolley, selecting one every now and then and asking me where it belonged. I pointed out the different sections to her: Junior Fiction, Junior Easy, Junior Ridiculously Easy (a.k.a. Blue Star), Picture Books, Bored Books (very simple stories designed to put kids to sleep), Chewed-on Books (a.k.a. donations or ‘pre-loved favourites’), Talking Books (like TV without the vision impairment later in life), DVDs, Videos, Magazines (including the woefully named young boy’s mag, Play Boy), Graphic Novels, Lame Joke Books, Junior Non-Fiction and Junior Biographies (half of which are about the kids from Harry Potter).
“That’s too many!” she exclaimed.
“No no, Junior’s the largest section in the library, it needs to be this big,” I explained. “We always need more books here. In fact, if anyone is reading this, then please put more money towards furthering this section of the library, wink wink, nudge nudge.”
“Who are you talking to?” she asked.
“Never you mind.” She thought for a moment, then returned to her interrogation.
“Where does all the money come from?”
“From the Council, next door. We also get money from a company called BiblioTech. See that robot putting books away? Or that scanner which makes the words in the book appear really large on the screen next to it? That’s where they came from.”
She absorbed all of this for a couple of seconds before asking me to explain other things in the library to her. She was full of boundless energy, but unlike many kids her age she seemed genuinely interested in all areas of the library, not just those that applied to her. I admit, as I showed her around the different areas I felt a surge of pride stirring I me. Se was just like me when I was that age, so curious and full of vim, with a passion for reading… I’m so glad I never grew out of that.
Eventually Sophie (we’d formally introduced ourselves after half an hour) asked me the ultimate question: Why do you wanna work in a library, mister? I’d had an answer prepared for years before I’d even started shelving here, but this was the first time anyone had asked me outright. Before I could help myself I’d launched into my spiel about the importance and the joys of lifelong learning and how the community benefits from education and how vital it is that we as the human race continue to push the boundaries of our imagination and understanding, and oh yeah, don’t you just love the smell of paper?
Sophie not only put up with my soliloquy, she nodded enthusiastically in agreement the whole way through. When I was finished (well, pausing for breath), she then asked the infuriating question which I am always asked: Do you get paid? I explained that Council jobs pay remarkably well, especially for Casuals, and that the hours are fairly flexible (I once turned up 6 hours late for a shift, and ended up keeping the library open overnight so I’d have company whilst shelving). I also explained weekend rates of pay (if you thought the normal rate was good, what I get on Sundays could cripple a small nation) and accruement of TIL (Time In Loo – paid toilet breaks).
The time flew by as we discussed the intricate details about the library. After a moment’s hesitation I told her about some of the ‘secret’ stuff, like the resident ghosts, the new ‘upgrades’ coming soon, and the fact that the boss can morph into an owl. Little Sophie took all of this in, and was clearly loving hearing about the library. We lounged around in the beanbags in Junior, and I recanted to her all about my adventures in the library.
As night approached and Sophie made to leave, I thanked her for showing an interest in the goings-on of the library. She curtseyed, a very old-school gesture for such a young one. As she walked out the door I thought to myself, there goes the next generation of shelver. The future looks bright indeed.
-Jay, shelver explorer
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
#60 Yahweh
Dear diary,
Pepper had kept our final destination a secret throughout the whole journey. I’d tried to plot it on the map, following the trajectory we’d made so far from west to north to east across rural Victoria in the Mobile Library. But it was only after noticing the ‘other’ pattern we’d been following that I correctly guessed where we were headed.
The van rolled onto the main road of our last town, albeit slowly. The street was crowded with people, more than could possibly live in this town. It appeared as though people had come from every town for miles for this parade. As we drove on the people parted to let us through, shouting and cheering us on. Heb came up to the front of the van and scanned the crowds ahead of us. He frowned and pointed out that there was nothing else on the road, and that everyone’s attention was focused on the Mobile Library. I slowly nodded in agreement, allowing for this interesting morsel of information to sink in.
Pepper sat there in the driver’s seat with a huge, knowing grin on her face. Suddenly she told me to take the wheel, and before I could react she wound down the window and leaned out. I grabbed the steering wheel as our librarian climbed out of the window and onto the roof. Heb opened the skylight and poked his head out like a periscope. He reported that Pepper was, um, setting up massive speakers and, um, reaching into her, um, ah, you know, hehe, cleavage, and, um, pulling out a microphone and, um, speaking to the, um, crowd and oh wait you can hear that, um, okay never mind then you know what she’s saying.
I drove at about 5kph to allow for people to come up to the window and shout their blessings to us. One woman threw her underwear at Heb, who blushed bright red to match the silken lingerie. A man, woman I recognised from FaceBook pics as Pepper’s husband, climbed on top of the van and handed Pepper a bouquet of flowers. I looked out of the windows and beamed with joy. Kids were looking up to us as role models, grandparents praising us for providing a service for their whole lives, and parents lauding us for taking both the youngins and the oldies off their hands. It was truly spectacular.
Pepper had organised another treat for us. I parked the Mobile Library van and immediately there was a knock on the door. Tentatively I opened it, steeling myself for the inevitable onslaught of the rushing masses, only to be met with a surprising sight. Boudecia stepped into the van, raised her eyebrows (which for her is a massive sign of approval) and walked past me. Bron rushed in straight behind her to embrace Heb in an embarrassing way that only a mother can master. The rest of the gang poured in: Goldie, Sylvia, Ernesto, TJ and even Talia. Shannon entered last and opened up a book she was holding. The transparent image of the Bookman, the main library’s resident ghost and also Shannon’s father, soared out of it and floated in the air.
Pepper, Heb and I took a much needed break while the other staff staffed the Mobile Library. We went to the local pub and had a five-and-a-half-star banquet meal, all the time surrounded by excited onlookers. It felt a bit Orwellian but definitely not unpleasant, to be watched by so many avid readers all wanting to be in the presence of we humble library workers. I looked from Heb’s face to Pepper’s to my own (there was a mirror handy), and I could see we were all grinning wildly. This was heaven to us.
The celebrations lasted all day, with massive library thoroughfare the likes of which we had never seen, except possibly in Reeding. I managed to sneak away to have a moment to myself. Sitting out the back of the pub, I mused over the events of the past few weeks. I’d experienced rural Australia and met heaps of interesting people. I’d sung on stage, been involved in a bar fight, experienced the wonderful Australian outback, rescued someone from a kidnapping, met a beautiful woman…
Ursula appeared from around the corner, smiling and holding two champagne glasses. She came over and sat next to me.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“Well, your van does kinda stand out.”
“Not that much.”
“Ah, yeah, good point. Would you believe me if I told you it was a coincidence?”
“Like us visiting towns whose names just happen to start with L-I-T-E-R-A-C-Y?”
“Two good points. Okay, you win, I’ve been kinda sorta uh following you since our last meeting. Thought you might need me to bail you out again or something.”
She chuckled softly and took off her rapper beanie to reveal her long black flowing hair. She looked incredible, stunning, so damn hot! She leant forward and or lips touched for one precious moment.
Suddenly my ears flattened and I snapped my head around as the sound, breaking our connection. Through the open door of the library I saw a pile of books lying on the floor where someone had dropped them, and was now walking out of the library. I stood up straight, apologised to Ursula and ran off to do what I was born to do: shelve.
-Jay, Shelver Explorer
Pepper had kept our final destination a secret throughout the whole journey. I’d tried to plot it on the map, following the trajectory we’d made so far from west to north to east across rural Victoria in the Mobile Library. But it was only after noticing the ‘other’ pattern we’d been following that I correctly guessed where we were headed.
The van rolled onto the main road of our last town, albeit slowly. The street was crowded with people, more than could possibly live in this town. It appeared as though people had come from every town for miles for this parade. As we drove on the people parted to let us through, shouting and cheering us on. Heb came up to the front of the van and scanned the crowds ahead of us. He frowned and pointed out that there was nothing else on the road, and that everyone’s attention was focused on the Mobile Library. I slowly nodded in agreement, allowing for this interesting morsel of information to sink in.
Pepper sat there in the driver’s seat with a huge, knowing grin on her face. Suddenly she told me to take the wheel, and before I could react she wound down the window and leaned out. I grabbed the steering wheel as our librarian climbed out of the window and onto the roof. Heb opened the skylight and poked his head out like a periscope. He reported that Pepper was, um, setting up massive speakers and, um, reaching into her, um, ah, you know, hehe, cleavage, and, um, pulling out a microphone and, um, speaking to the, um, crowd and oh wait you can hear that, um, okay never mind then you know what she’s saying.
I drove at about 5kph to allow for people to come up to the window and shout their blessings to us. One woman threw her underwear at Heb, who blushed bright red to match the silken lingerie. A man, woman I recognised from FaceBook pics as Pepper’s husband, climbed on top of the van and handed Pepper a bouquet of flowers. I looked out of the windows and beamed with joy. Kids were looking up to us as role models, grandparents praising us for providing a service for their whole lives, and parents lauding us for taking both the youngins and the oldies off their hands. It was truly spectacular.
Pepper had organised another treat for us. I parked the Mobile Library van and immediately there was a knock on the door. Tentatively I opened it, steeling myself for the inevitable onslaught of the rushing masses, only to be met with a surprising sight. Boudecia stepped into the van, raised her eyebrows (which for her is a massive sign of approval) and walked past me. Bron rushed in straight behind her to embrace Heb in an embarrassing way that only a mother can master. The rest of the gang poured in: Goldie, Sylvia, Ernesto, TJ and even Talia. Shannon entered last and opened up a book she was holding. The transparent image of the Bookman, the main library’s resident ghost and also Shannon’s father, soared out of it and floated in the air.
Pepper, Heb and I took a much needed break while the other staff staffed the Mobile Library. We went to the local pub and had a five-and-a-half-star banquet meal, all the time surrounded by excited onlookers. It felt a bit Orwellian but definitely not unpleasant, to be watched by so many avid readers all wanting to be in the presence of we humble library workers. I looked from Heb’s face to Pepper’s to my own (there was a mirror handy), and I could see we were all grinning wildly. This was heaven to us.
The celebrations lasted all day, with massive library thoroughfare the likes of which we had never seen, except possibly in Reeding. I managed to sneak away to have a moment to myself. Sitting out the back of the pub, I mused over the events of the past few weeks. I’d experienced rural Australia and met heaps of interesting people. I’d sung on stage, been involved in a bar fight, experienced the wonderful Australian outback, rescued someone from a kidnapping, met a beautiful woman…
Ursula appeared from around the corner, smiling and holding two champagne glasses. She came over and sat next to me.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“Well, your van does kinda stand out.”
“Not that much.”
“Ah, yeah, good point. Would you believe me if I told you it was a coincidence?”
“Like us visiting towns whose names just happen to start with L-I-T-E-R-A-C-Y?”
“Two good points. Okay, you win, I’ve been kinda sorta uh following you since our last meeting. Thought you might need me to bail you out again or something.”
She chuckled softly and took off her rapper beanie to reveal her long black flowing hair. She looked incredible, stunning, so damn hot! She leant forward and or lips touched for one precious moment.
Suddenly my ears flattened and I snapped my head around as the sound, breaking our connection. Through the open door of the library I saw a pile of books lying on the floor where someone had dropped them, and was now walking out of the library. I stood up straight, apologised to Ursula and ran off to do what I was born to do: shelve.
-Jay, Shelver Explorer
Thursday, January 22, 2009
#59 Captionville
Dear diary,
Captionville is, quite literally, a ghost town. There was absolutely nothing there where the map said there should be. I double and triple checked the map, which clearly stated there should be a settlement present at our precise location. The Japanese SatNav woman kept repeating that there should be a “town pleasant”. But there was almost nothing save for us and the dust.
I got out of the van and wandered over to a withered signpost, proudly welcoming us to Captionville. It must’ve once been used as a notice board, for it was partially covered with newspaper headlines and local ads. The most recent date on the newspaper was two weeks ago, advertising a traveling circus called Jokulation s “Coming Soon”. I shot a look back to Pepper in the van, but she was as befuddled as I. I got back in the passenger’s seat and turned to her and Heb, who had just woken up to the sound of nothing happening.
“So, does this mean we get the next few days off?” I asked politely.
“This isn’t right, there should be a town here,” she replied evasively.
“Well, there isn’t,” I retorted smugly.
“Check the map again. Maybe it’s outdated, she responded coolly.
“It was printed this year – we picked it up from a cartographer in the last town,” I reminded her.
“Check the SatNav again,” she tested me.
“It said it was ‘in cahoots with the charter’,” I shot back impatiently.
“Um, can-,” Heb interjected bashfully.
“Why do you men have to be so difficult,” Pepper questioned hypothetically.
“I’m not being difficult, I’m simply pointing out that that there is no town where there should be. Don’t throw this back on me,” I aggrieved angrily.
“There-,” Heb interrupted weakly.
“What, so are you saying this is my driving? Would you prefer me to navigate?” Pepper challenged accusatorily.
“No, everyone knows men have better spatial and map-reading skills. Have you ever read Allen Pease?” I referenced sarcastically.
“His wife Barbara has a lot to say about men being stubborn too,” she cross-referenced swiftly.
“Hold on, what’s that?” Heb intervened successfully.
“What?” Pepper and I uttered synchronistically.
“Those dots around the town, on the map,” he proceeded curiously. “I think they’re farms. Maybe we could visit them instead..?”
“…” I emitted thoughtfully.
“Okay, good plan Heb!” Pepper encouraged enthusiastically. “Let’s roll!” she added, leadingly.
So, after some debate we decided that since there was no town to visit per se, we’d instead tour the local area and see whether anyone was keen on borrowing any books. We had some minor interest, not as much as we would have had had we had a town populace to administer, but beggars can’t be choosers.
To be honest, I’m enjoying the quiet pace of things at the moment. We’ll soon be of to our last port of call before heading back home. I haven’t seen my family and friends in weeks, and it would be nice to catch up and make sure they haven’t been doing anything nearly as interesting as me. So long!
-Jay
Captionville is, quite literally, a ghost town. There was absolutely nothing there where the map said there should be. I double and triple checked the map, which clearly stated there should be a settlement present at our precise location. The Japanese SatNav woman kept repeating that there should be a “town pleasant”. But there was almost nothing save for us and the dust.
I got out of the van and wandered over to a withered signpost, proudly welcoming us to Captionville. It must’ve once been used as a notice board, for it was partially covered with newspaper headlines and local ads. The most recent date on the newspaper was two weeks ago, advertising a traveling circus called Jokulation s “Coming Soon”. I shot a look back to Pepper in the van, but she was as befuddled as I. I got back in the passenger’s seat and turned to her and Heb, who had just woken up to the sound of nothing happening.
“So, does this mean we get the next few days off?” I asked politely.
“This isn’t right, there should be a town here,” she replied evasively.
“Well, there isn’t,” I retorted smugly.
“Check the map again. Maybe it’s outdated, she responded coolly.
“It was printed this year – we picked it up from a cartographer in the last town,” I reminded her.
“Check the SatNav again,” she tested me.
“It said it was ‘in cahoots with the charter’,” I shot back impatiently.
“Um, can-,” Heb interjected bashfully.
“Why do you men have to be so difficult,” Pepper questioned hypothetically.
“I’m not being difficult, I’m simply pointing out that that there is no town where there should be. Don’t throw this back on me,” I aggrieved angrily.
“There-,” Heb interrupted weakly.
“What, so are you saying this is my driving? Would you prefer me to navigate?” Pepper challenged accusatorily.
“No, everyone knows men have better spatial and map-reading skills. Have you ever read Allen Pease?” I referenced sarcastically.
“His wife Barbara has a lot to say about men being stubborn too,” she cross-referenced swiftly.
“Hold on, what’s that?” Heb intervened successfully.
“What?” Pepper and I uttered synchronistically.
“Those dots around the town, on the map,” he proceeded curiously. “I think they’re farms. Maybe we could visit them instead..?”
“…” I emitted thoughtfully.
“Okay, good plan Heb!” Pepper encouraged enthusiastically. “Let’s roll!” she added, leadingly.
So, after some debate we decided that since there was no town to visit per se, we’d instead tour the local area and see whether anyone was keen on borrowing any books. We had some minor interest, not as much as we would have had had we had a town populace to administer, but beggars can’t be choosers.
To be honest, I’m enjoying the quiet pace of things at the moment. We’ll soon be of to our last port of call before heading back home. I haven’t seen my family and friends in weeks, and it would be nice to catch up and make sure they haven’t been doing anything nearly as interesting as me. So long!
-Jay
Saturday, January 17, 2009
#58 Agartha
Dear diary,
The day began as any other. We opened the library to the general public, and enjoyed a steady flow of customers. Agartha is also known as the underworld capital of outer Victoria. There was several dodgy figures hanging around the library, including one guy who, as far as I could tell, was taking bundles of free bookmarks from the stands and selling them around the corner. The police came in for a ‘random’ drug bust of the premises. Twice. But otherwise things seemed quite normal.
We closed the Mobile Library at 1, and Heb went off on his lunch break while Pepper and I held another video conference with the staff back at the ‘immobile’ library back home. It was good to catch up with everyone. Goldie had made a delicious-looking cake, which she said she wanted to share with us. She took a photo with the library’s high-quality digital camera, loaded the ink cartridge on the fax machine with the ink fro those scented textas, and faxed us over a copy. Not quite as good as the real deal, but close.
We had a brief update on current affairs. Sylvia has hired some volunteers to come in once a week to teach internet classes to people from multicultural backgrounds. The fact that the volunteers don’t speak a word of English, nor or each other’s languages or those of the ESL groups, is a minor downside but she doesn’t think it’ll be an issue. Shannon reported that the library’s unofficial ‘ghosts’ have instrumental in making storytime more exciting in Pepper’s absence, and are now a permanent fixture in the program. Boudecia says she has officially received Talia’s notice of resignation, and that TJ says she sends us all her love from her current charity work posting in a small town in Victoria called Yahweh.
We were about to log out when there was a knock on the door. I answered it but there was no-one there, just an envelope on the floor addressed To The Librarian. It was a ransom note, made of bits of shredded books, demanding we pay $500,000 if we ever wanted to see Heb alive. Pepper and I exchanged glances, then I quickly unplugged the computer, shutting off the connection. I didn’t want Bron hearing about her son like this.
Pepper and I dialed the number on the bottom of the note, and were confused and slightly disappointed when we were met with the library after hours recorded message, edited for ransom purposes. It told us in a courteous manner to come to a shady club in own, without telling the police, and to bring the money in a library bag.
We went together, both nervous about Heb’s and our own wellbeing. We walked in cautiously, Pepper’s arm around mine, practically crushing it out of fear. As we made our way to the stated meeting spot I heard familiar music playing upstairs. It was Ursula’s band! When we got there we saw Ursula singing, and Heb and a very familiar face sitting over in the corner.
I walked over and demanded Heb be released. Viktor looked up at me slyly, and smirked. He had tied to take over the library only a few months ago, but had been chased out by Boudecia; he still had the claw marks to prove it. He explained to myself and a bewildered Pepper that he had been on the run from the BiblioTech secret police, and when he had heard we were touring here he’d come for revenge. As he said this he lifted his gun, which until now had been hidden under the table, and laughed maniacally. But they were the only fifteen seconds of fame he would get.
Ursula had noticed us, and clued on that something wasn’t right by the looks on our faces. When she’d spotted the gun she reacted impulsively, bringing her guitar down on Viktor’s head, knocking him out cold. Pepper clutched Heb to her bosom, engulfing him in her cleavage while she whispered to him that he’d be okay. I called the olice and within ten minutes Viktor was being driven off in a divvy van.
Ursula and I parted ways for the second time out the front of that club. We embraced awkwardly, then looked at our respective shoes and made comments about the weather. I couldn’t find the words to thank her enough for saving our lives, so instead I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before smiling and running off to join the others at the Mobile Library. I immediately pitied myself for my sheepishness, and when I turned back she was gone. I hope I get to see her again.
-Jay
The day began as any other. We opened the library to the general public, and enjoyed a steady flow of customers. Agartha is also known as the underworld capital of outer Victoria. There was several dodgy figures hanging around the library, including one guy who, as far as I could tell, was taking bundles of free bookmarks from the stands and selling them around the corner. The police came in for a ‘random’ drug bust of the premises. Twice. But otherwise things seemed quite normal.
We closed the Mobile Library at 1, and Heb went off on his lunch break while Pepper and I held another video conference with the staff back at the ‘immobile’ library back home. It was good to catch up with everyone. Goldie had made a delicious-looking cake, which she said she wanted to share with us. She took a photo with the library’s high-quality digital camera, loaded the ink cartridge on the fax machine with the ink fro those scented textas, and faxed us over a copy. Not quite as good as the real deal, but close.
We had a brief update on current affairs. Sylvia has hired some volunteers to come in once a week to teach internet classes to people from multicultural backgrounds. The fact that the volunteers don’t speak a word of English, nor or each other’s languages or those of the ESL groups, is a minor downside but she doesn’t think it’ll be an issue. Shannon reported that the library’s unofficial ‘ghosts’ have instrumental in making storytime more exciting in Pepper’s absence, and are now a permanent fixture in the program. Boudecia says she has officially received Talia’s notice of resignation, and that TJ says she sends us all her love from her current charity work posting in a small town in Victoria called Yahweh.
We were about to log out when there was a knock on the door. I answered it but there was no-one there, just an envelope on the floor addressed To The Librarian. It was a ransom note, made of bits of shredded books, demanding we pay $500,000 if we ever wanted to see Heb alive. Pepper and I exchanged glances, then I quickly unplugged the computer, shutting off the connection. I didn’t want Bron hearing about her son like this.
Pepper and I dialed the number on the bottom of the note, and were confused and slightly disappointed when we were met with the library after hours recorded message, edited for ransom purposes. It told us in a courteous manner to come to a shady club in own, without telling the police, and to bring the money in a library bag.
We went together, both nervous about Heb’s and our own wellbeing. We walked in cautiously, Pepper’s arm around mine, practically crushing it out of fear. As we made our way to the stated meeting spot I heard familiar music playing upstairs. It was Ursula’s band! When we got there we saw Ursula singing, and Heb and a very familiar face sitting over in the corner.
I walked over and demanded Heb be released. Viktor looked up at me slyly, and smirked. He had tied to take over the library only a few months ago, but had been chased out by Boudecia; he still had the claw marks to prove it. He explained to myself and a bewildered Pepper that he had been on the run from the BiblioTech secret police, and when he had heard we were touring here he’d come for revenge. As he said this he lifted his gun, which until now had been hidden under the table, and laughed maniacally. But they were the only fifteen seconds of fame he would get.
Ursula had noticed us, and clued on that something wasn’t right by the looks on our faces. When she’d spotted the gun she reacted impulsively, bringing her guitar down on Viktor’s head, knocking him out cold. Pepper clutched Heb to her bosom, engulfing him in her cleavage while she whispered to him that he’d be okay. I called the olice and within ten minutes Viktor was being driven off in a divvy van.
Ursula and I parted ways for the second time out the front of that club. We embraced awkwardly, then looked at our respective shoes and made comments about the weather. I couldn’t find the words to thank her enough for saving our lives, so instead I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before smiling and running off to join the others at the Mobile Library. I immediately pitied myself for my sheepishness, and when I turned back she was gone. I hope I get to see her again.
-Jay
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
#57 Reeding
Dear diary,
After the overall success we’d had with the Mobile Library, especially in Rado and Ironwood, it was understandable that we were a bit cocky. Pepper and I had created a large banner that read “Bigger than Alexandria”. We were flying high; we thought we were invincible. But we were wrong.
I remember the look of excitement on Pepper’s face when we drove into the town of Reeding. People were peering out at us from their homes as the library passed down the main streets. Pepper turned on the music, an we drove on to our temporary base in the town square to the theme of Greensleeves. People followed us down the roads, drawn to the allure of the library like rats to the Pied Piper. It seemed so magical.
I remember leaving Pepper in the driver’s seat, her eyes aflame with enthusiasm, and walking down the narrow corridor of the “staffroom” to the library itself. Heb was sitting there shelving the last few books in Non-Fiction. His face betrayed a hint of glee as we sat and listened to the marching footsteps of the masses, steadily closing the gap between us. I stood up and walked over to the door. This was going to be a great day in Mobile Library history. So many interested people!
I remember how the library stopped moving, and with a grin plastered to my face, I opened the door.
The most apt collective I can use to describe the people who flooded into the library s a swarm. A swarm of patrons. I was knocked back and sandwiched between the wall and the door. Amidst the rush of legs I saw Heb duck and roll under the shelves just as shoes came stomping down on where he’d been only seconds ago. Pepper cowered behind the checkout desk, struggling to deal with so many people wanting to borrow all at once. I managed to wedge myself free and crowd-surfed my way to the counter to com to her relief.
The insanity continued for several hours. It was a very warm day, and we sweltered from all the body heat in such close confinements. I briefly saw Heb’s face among the crowd, his expression a mask of pure terror. We could do nothing except fend the horde off one borrower at a time. Several times I saw people in he queue get fed up with the extraordinarily long wait and walk out with their books, but there was nothing I could do to stop them.
At 5 to 5 Pepper announced that the library would be closing. By announced I mean she screamed into a megaphone and was barely audible over the din. It worked like magic though. Everyone departed, and at 5pm on the dot the library was bereft of life, save for staff, and that was stretching the definition. We were all exhausted. The library was a mess. Heb was breathing heavily underneath the wreckage of the Junior shelving, and I was lying on the counter, head throbbing.
Pepper was the only one who had any life left in her. She was using two poster rolls as crutches to walk around and inspect the damage, beginning by putting out a small fire that had arisen in what was left of Fiction. The shelves had been annihilated, with tiers and books strewn across the floor. A spinneret was poking through a smashed window. The floor was caked with muddy footprints, most of which were human. It was horrendous.
On that first night we sat around the campfire, deep in thought. Pepper was fingering her wedding ring. She’d told us that she’d been keen on going on this trip, despite having only gotten married a few months prior, but she was clearly missing him now. She’d gone to all these lengths to plan and prepare for this trip to be fantastic, but she looked so disheartened by what had happened that day. I wanted to talk to her and cheer her up but had so little energy to spare. Instead I began to head to bed, then had a flash of inspiration. I drew a quick picture to a Post-It note, stuck it to Pepper’s head and trotted off, humming merrily to myself.
She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that. By the time I woke up the next morning Pepper had removed all the “Free!!” banners and other promo stuff for the exterior. She’d also installed the gate system I’d hastily drawn for her, made out of pieces of wrecked shelving and decorated with coloured paper. Only five patrons were allowed in the library at any one time, and in addition, anyone wanting to borrow a book first had to return everything they’d borrowed and help Heb and I with the shelving for a few minutes. Pepper also had a few stern words with some of the previous day’s thieves whom I pointed out to her. We reclaimed nearly 40 books from them; a definite bonus.
The Mobile Library is now up and ready to go again. Next stop: Agartha!
-Jay
After the overall success we’d had with the Mobile Library, especially in Rado and Ironwood, it was understandable that we were a bit cocky. Pepper and I had created a large banner that read “Bigger than Alexandria”. We were flying high; we thought we were invincible. But we were wrong.
I remember the look of excitement on Pepper’s face when we drove into the town of Reeding. People were peering out at us from their homes as the library passed down the main streets. Pepper turned on the music, an we drove on to our temporary base in the town square to the theme of Greensleeves. People followed us down the roads, drawn to the allure of the library like rats to the Pied Piper. It seemed so magical.
I remember leaving Pepper in the driver’s seat, her eyes aflame with enthusiasm, and walking down the narrow corridor of the “staffroom” to the library itself. Heb was sitting there shelving the last few books in Non-Fiction. His face betrayed a hint of glee as we sat and listened to the marching footsteps of the masses, steadily closing the gap between us. I stood up and walked over to the door. This was going to be a great day in Mobile Library history. So many interested people!
I remember how the library stopped moving, and with a grin plastered to my face, I opened the door.
The most apt collective I can use to describe the people who flooded into the library s a swarm. A swarm of patrons. I was knocked back and sandwiched between the wall and the door. Amidst the rush of legs I saw Heb duck and roll under the shelves just as shoes came stomping down on where he’d been only seconds ago. Pepper cowered behind the checkout desk, struggling to deal with so many people wanting to borrow all at once. I managed to wedge myself free and crowd-surfed my way to the counter to com to her relief.
The insanity continued for several hours. It was a very warm day, and we sweltered from all the body heat in such close confinements. I briefly saw Heb’s face among the crowd, his expression a mask of pure terror. We could do nothing except fend the horde off one borrower at a time. Several times I saw people in he queue get fed up with the extraordinarily long wait and walk out with their books, but there was nothing I could do to stop them.
At 5 to 5 Pepper announced that the library would be closing. By announced I mean she screamed into a megaphone and was barely audible over the din. It worked like magic though. Everyone departed, and at 5pm on the dot the library was bereft of life, save for staff, and that was stretching the definition. We were all exhausted. The library was a mess. Heb was breathing heavily underneath the wreckage of the Junior shelving, and I was lying on the counter, head throbbing.
Pepper was the only one who had any life left in her. She was using two poster rolls as crutches to walk around and inspect the damage, beginning by putting out a small fire that had arisen in what was left of Fiction. The shelves had been annihilated, with tiers and books strewn across the floor. A spinneret was poking through a smashed window. The floor was caked with muddy footprints, most of which were human. It was horrendous.
On that first night we sat around the campfire, deep in thought. Pepper was fingering her wedding ring. She’d told us that she’d been keen on going on this trip, despite having only gotten married a few months prior, but she was clearly missing him now. She’d gone to all these lengths to plan and prepare for this trip to be fantastic, but she looked so disheartened by what had happened that day. I wanted to talk to her and cheer her up but had so little energy to spare. Instead I began to head to bed, then had a flash of inspiration. I drew a quick picture to a Post-It note, stuck it to Pepper’s head and trotted off, humming merrily to myself.
She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that. By the time I woke up the next morning Pepper had removed all the “Free!!” banners and other promo stuff for the exterior. She’d also installed the gate system I’d hastily drawn for her, made out of pieces of wrecked shelving and decorated with coloured paper. Only five patrons were allowed in the library at any one time, and in addition, anyone wanting to borrow a book first had to return everything they’d borrowed and help Heb and I with the shelving for a few minutes. Pepper also had a few stern words with some of the previous day’s thieves whom I pointed out to her. We reclaimed nearly 40 books from them; a definite bonus.
The Mobile Library is now up and ready to go again. Next stop: Agartha!
-Jay
Saturday, January 10, 2009
#56 Eldo/Rado
Dear diary,
Oh. My. God. Eldo is awesome! It’s a large country town with a massive shopping mall and cinema complex and leisure centre and planetarium and more than you would ever imagine would exist in a place that barely registers as a dot on a map of outback Victoria. They even have an enormous library service which is well stocked and has competent staff (I gave them a run for their money though with some challenging questions, just to test them). But sadly, we’re barely going to spend any time in Eldo, as Pepper gloomily informed me on our first day.
Our work was in the twin town of Rado, which has more socio-economic disadvantage than you could poke a long and pointed stick at. According to the Resource Department of the second floor of the local history section in the Eldo Public Library, the two towns were originally one large city, but it was cleft in twain in the Great Gold Rush Revival of 1982. Many people from the Eldo ward became rich overnight while those from the Rado ward lost everything.
We’ve been hired by the mayor of Rado to “promote the benefits of lifelong learning among the community”, which really means we’re here to stop it going further up the creek minus a paddle. The townsfolk are wary of stepping into the neighbouring town as prices there are through the roof. Pepper came up with an ingenious plan to encourage them to visit the Mobile Library. She spent all the first night designing posters and banners saying “FREE!!”, which she hoped would attract patrons-to-be.
While she was off in her ‘design lab’, and her own world, I decided to take Heb out and show him around town, as some exposure to sunlight and the general public would do him well. We spent hours looking in book stores and the library until even I was bored (and trust me, that takes a lot). He was engrossed, but I wanted him to experience some of the finer qualities of real life.
The pub was fairly empty when we stepped in. He immediately ran to a dark corner booth where no-one could see us. I followed reluctantly. He was hesitant to have a drink, in case it blurred his vision and he couldn’t read the Chaucer he’d snuck in under his shirt. Eventually I convinced him into having a ‘Jezebel Bonchance’ cocktail by pretending that alcohol won’t affect you if you drink it quickly. He was naïve enough for it to work.
By the eighth round we were both so drunk that we were slurring, so we came up with the idea of speaking only in Dewey. I said I wanted to take that pretty girl back to the caravan and read some 613.95, but he countered by reminding me I was in no state to operate 629.222 within 994 or I would face 347. He then seemed to recall he was 297 and that his 173 would be disrupted, but he didn’t really mind due to some tricky 158.1 and besides, we should get some take-away 641.5.
We stumbled towards the general direction of the door but didn’t make it. I slammed into the wall and fell to the floor, while Heb ended up lying on a pool table. The people who were playing were upset about this cessation to their tournament and there was a fight, of which I only saw the start before I dozily passed out.
I awoke the next morning in the caravan and panicked. I’d left Heb, inebriated and alone, in a bar full of boozy ruffians. How would I explain this to Bron? She’d kill me, and then I’d never get to finish the Robert Jordan series! My hangover slowed me right down, and it too a good ten minutes to make it from my room at one end of the Mobile Library, to the other to tell Pepper I was partially responsible for the death of our only shelver.
But I’d underestimated Heb. He was standing out the front of the library, surrounded by a huge group of townspeople. Several pairs of eyes and bewildered expressions turned to face me in the doorway. Pepper came up behind me and offered around some coffee. She told the story of how she’d been in town looking for inspiration in the bottom of a glass when she’d heard a commotion. When she went to investigate she found Heb displaying his learnings from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and a handful of martial arts books, against a rowdy mob of snookerers. Pepper went in to rescue Heb and used her high heels and gymnast legs to help bring the fight to a close.
News had traveled fast, and it wasn’t every day that two out-of-towner nerds, one a woman and the other a kid, came along and beat up a gang of blokes. Half the population of Rado had come to see these strange newcomers, and many were captivated by a combination of an impressive collection of library material and Pepper’s signage. We had a large wave of borrowers that first day. Here’s hoping we can keep it up for the next fw days before we move on.
-Jay
Oh. My. God. Eldo is awesome! It’s a large country town with a massive shopping mall and cinema complex and leisure centre and planetarium and more than you would ever imagine would exist in a place that barely registers as a dot on a map of outback Victoria. They even have an enormous library service which is well stocked and has competent staff (I gave them a run for their money though with some challenging questions, just to test them). But sadly, we’re barely going to spend any time in Eldo, as Pepper gloomily informed me on our first day.
Our work was in the twin town of Rado, which has more socio-economic disadvantage than you could poke a long and pointed stick at. According to the Resource Department of the second floor of the local history section in the Eldo Public Library, the two towns were originally one large city, but it was cleft in twain in the Great Gold Rush Revival of 1982. Many people from the Eldo ward became rich overnight while those from the Rado ward lost everything.
We’ve been hired by the mayor of Rado to “promote the benefits of lifelong learning among the community”, which really means we’re here to stop it going further up the creek minus a paddle. The townsfolk are wary of stepping into the neighbouring town as prices there are through the roof. Pepper came up with an ingenious plan to encourage them to visit the Mobile Library. She spent all the first night designing posters and banners saying “FREE!!”, which she hoped would attract patrons-to-be.
While she was off in her ‘design lab’, and her own world, I decided to take Heb out and show him around town, as some exposure to sunlight and the general public would do him well. We spent hours looking in book stores and the library until even I was bored (and trust me, that takes a lot). He was engrossed, but I wanted him to experience some of the finer qualities of real life.
The pub was fairly empty when we stepped in. He immediately ran to a dark corner booth where no-one could see us. I followed reluctantly. He was hesitant to have a drink, in case it blurred his vision and he couldn’t read the Chaucer he’d snuck in under his shirt. Eventually I convinced him into having a ‘Jezebel Bonchance’ cocktail by pretending that alcohol won’t affect you if you drink it quickly. He was naïve enough for it to work.
By the eighth round we were both so drunk that we were slurring, so we came up with the idea of speaking only in Dewey. I said I wanted to take that pretty girl back to the caravan and read some 613.95, but he countered by reminding me I was in no state to operate 629.222 within 994 or I would face 347. He then seemed to recall he was 297 and that his 173 would be disrupted, but he didn’t really mind due to some tricky 158.1 and besides, we should get some take-away 641.5.
We stumbled towards the general direction of the door but didn’t make it. I slammed into the wall and fell to the floor, while Heb ended up lying on a pool table. The people who were playing were upset about this cessation to their tournament and there was a fight, of which I only saw the start before I dozily passed out.
I awoke the next morning in the caravan and panicked. I’d left Heb, inebriated and alone, in a bar full of boozy ruffians. How would I explain this to Bron? She’d kill me, and then I’d never get to finish the Robert Jordan series! My hangover slowed me right down, and it too a good ten minutes to make it from my room at one end of the Mobile Library, to the other to tell Pepper I was partially responsible for the death of our only shelver.
But I’d underestimated Heb. He was standing out the front of the library, surrounded by a huge group of townspeople. Several pairs of eyes and bewildered expressions turned to face me in the doorway. Pepper came up behind me and offered around some coffee. She told the story of how she’d been in town looking for inspiration in the bottom of a glass when she’d heard a commotion. When she went to investigate she found Heb displaying his learnings from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and a handful of martial arts books, against a rowdy mob of snookerers. Pepper went in to rescue Heb and used her high heels and gymnast legs to help bring the fight to a close.
News had traveled fast, and it wasn’t every day that two out-of-towner nerds, one a woman and the other a kid, came along and beat up a gang of blokes. Half the population of Rado had come to see these strange newcomers, and many were captivated by a combination of an impressive collection of library material and Pepper’s signage. We had a large wave of borrowers that first day. Here’s hoping we can keep it up for the next fw days before we move on.
-Jay
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
#55 Thompson
Dear diary,
Can I just say that I love being in outback Australia! It’s quiet, bright, warm and open. The people of the towns and cities are really friendly, and while many of them are quirky you rarely get any bad sorts. You can relax out here without a care in the world. It’s just like one giant library, only without the shelf-reading.
As we drove into the satellite town of Thompson the people stopped and stared at us, as though they’d never seen a Mobile Library before (which, fair enough, few people have). Our first day was fairly busy, with many people, most of them curious about what we actually were. The DVD and Talking Book collections confounded them – one woman crossed herself every time she walked past them. She asked in a timid voice why we had so many computers set up, and when I told her they were for a conference with the other library staff her expression became glazed, like a deer caught in the headlights.
Pepper and I sat at the table for the conference whilst Heb hid from view – he still hadn’t called his mother to tell her he’d come with us. Our efforts to keep mum proved futile when mum (a.k.a. Bron) appeared on screen and castigated her wayward son. She was smirking as she told him off so she can’t have been that mad. Right?
Everyone else waved hello – Shannon even made a banner – before getting down to business. Pepper updated them all on our progress so far: Sixty-eight temporary borrowers, One hundred and twelve loans, an average daily door count of Ninety-and-a-third people, and only One stolen magazine (I turned my back for a moment and that little girl stole Quantum Mechanics Quarterly – who’d have thought?).
Boudecia recounted to us what’s been happening at the (non-mobile) library. Sylvia has ordered in Talking Bookmarks for people who listen to audio CDs. Whilst striving to add to the Teenage collection, Goldie accidentally purchased some Porno Graphic Novels. TJ says he will look into them, avidly.
Ernesto banned a boy from using the computers because he had been hacking into the system. The boy kept sneaking back into the library to cause mayhem with the public internet, so Ernesto laid a trap for him, with Shannon’s expert assistance. The boy’s parents were called and found him tangled in a mesh wire net, with a bill for electronic damages pinned to his shirt.
It was good to ‘touch base’ with everyone. As much as I love this outback life it does feel a little isolating at times. I’m still getting used to seeing Pepper and Heb every day. Pepper has this annoying habit of singing along to every single song on the radio. When patron’s come in and comment she shushes them, then when they’ve gone she hums and gradually resumes singing.
Heb on the other hand,, is almost non-verbal, speaking only when spoken to. He always looks so intense; he’s made more than one kid cry when reading them a picture book in his sombre, deadpan voice. I didn’t think I would qualify to be able to say this about anyone else, but he really needs to get out more.
Anyway, we’re off ina few days, to the twin towns of Eldo and Rado. Sounds fun!
-Jay
Can I just say that I love being in outback Australia! It’s quiet, bright, warm and open. The people of the towns and cities are really friendly, and while many of them are quirky you rarely get any bad sorts. You can relax out here without a care in the world. It’s just like one giant library, only without the shelf-reading.
As we drove into the satellite town of Thompson the people stopped and stared at us, as though they’d never seen a Mobile Library before (which, fair enough, few people have). Our first day was fairly busy, with many people, most of them curious about what we actually were. The DVD and Talking Book collections confounded them – one woman crossed herself every time she walked past them. She asked in a timid voice why we had so many computers set up, and when I told her they were for a conference with the other library staff her expression became glazed, like a deer caught in the headlights.
Pepper and I sat at the table for the conference whilst Heb hid from view – he still hadn’t called his mother to tell her he’d come with us. Our efforts to keep mum proved futile when mum (a.k.a. Bron) appeared on screen and castigated her wayward son. She was smirking as she told him off so she can’t have been that mad. Right?
Everyone else waved hello – Shannon even made a banner – before getting down to business. Pepper updated them all on our progress so far: Sixty-eight temporary borrowers, One hundred and twelve loans, an average daily door count of Ninety-and-a-third people, and only One stolen magazine (I turned my back for a moment and that little girl stole Quantum Mechanics Quarterly – who’d have thought?).
Boudecia recounted to us what’s been happening at the (non-mobile) library. Sylvia has ordered in Talking Bookmarks for people who listen to audio CDs. Whilst striving to add to the Teenage collection, Goldie accidentally purchased some Porno Graphic Novels. TJ says he will look into them, avidly.
Ernesto banned a boy from using the computers because he had been hacking into the system. The boy kept sneaking back into the library to cause mayhem with the public internet, so Ernesto laid a trap for him, with Shannon’s expert assistance. The boy’s parents were called and found him tangled in a mesh wire net, with a bill for electronic damages pinned to his shirt.
It was good to ‘touch base’ with everyone. As much as I love this outback life it does feel a little isolating at times. I’m still getting used to seeing Pepper and Heb every day. Pepper has this annoying habit of singing along to every single song on the radio. When patron’s come in and comment she shushes them, then when they’ve gone she hums and gradually resumes singing.
Heb on the other hand,, is almost non-verbal, speaking only when spoken to. He always looks so intense; he’s made more than one kid cry when reading them a picture book in his sombre, deadpan voice. I didn’t think I would qualify to be able to say this about anyone else, but he really needs to get out more.
Anyway, we’re off ina few days, to the twin towns of Eldo and Rado. Sounds fun!
-Jay
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
