THE GIFT OF READING

 The young librarian walked the lower floor making sure all was tidied up from patrons using the reading areas during the day. She returned to her desk and manipulated the security screens to check the upper floor. All was empty and quiet. She picked up her purse, put on her coat, took her keys, and locked up as she left for the evening.

On the upper floor there was a slight creaking sound as if someone was slowly pushing open an old door, except there were no old doors on the second floor of the town library. At least, there were no visible doors on the second floor.

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Kylan had found the door quite by accident as he sprawled under a large oak tree reading. He had shifted his position and was leaning against the tree when suddenly a plain, unadorned door appeared in the flower bed in front of him.

All doors lead somewhere, Kylan thought, I wonder… He got up, walked to the edge of the flower bed, and studied the door. There were no markings on it, and it was solidly built out of oak. He reached toward it and before he could touch it, the door creaked open a little, as if inviting him to pass through it. Being incredibly curious, he peeked through the crack. The first thing that happened was his nose began to twitch as the scent of books wafted through the crack and enveloped him. He stepped through.

Kylan knew all the stories about the magic doors in his world that opened into other worlds, but he had never had one appear to him. He wondered if this sudden appearance of the door had anything to do with the book he had been reading and still held in his hand. It was a silly, but entertaining story about a girl who was reading by a river bank when a white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and carrying a pocket watch hurried by her and she followed the rabbit down a rabbit hole, which was where he was in the story when the door appeared in the flower bed and the scent of books lured him through the door.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw rows of shelves all filled with books. He was stunned He had never seen so many books in one place in his whole life, and he loved to read. Books were not readily accessible in his world. The one he clutched in his hand had been in his family for at least two hundred years. He himself had read it thrice already in his ten years as a reader.

According to family lore, his great grandfather X 4 had been a huge collector of books and even had his own personal library long after public libraries had disappeared from the land. It was from what was left of that collection that Kylan had learned to read at the very young age of three. By the time he was seven, he had developed a passion for reading and books. He came from a reader family, but had no brothers or sisters and few playmates, so books were his best companions. There weren’t many reader families left in his world. He had wished of late that fact wasn’t so, and moreover, wished that a way could be found to remedy that lack in his world and restore reading to its proper place in the lives of the people across the land.

Now he stood in a place clearly not of his world staring at hundreds, possibly thousands of books. Where was he? Was this a private library, or could this be a world where public libraries existed, as was not so in his world. He shivered at the possibility of such a place. He had read of their existence in his family’s treasured ancient text The History of Libraries, which was said to be one of the first books in the collection of his great grandfather x 4.

Not knowing if the door that had opened from his world would ever appear again, he dug in his pocket for the glow-lump he always carried so he could always have enough light to read. He hoped it would work in this world. He pulled it out of his pocket and tapped it three times. Slowly at first, it began to glow and suddenly, it burst into its accustomed level of reading light! Holding the glow-lump forth, Kylan moved toward the nearest bookshelf, his inner excitement growing with each step.

On that first visit, he found himself in an area filled with illustrated stories which seemed to be from the worldview of multiple diverse cultures. He carefully removed a few from the shelf, leaving his book in their place as a marker. He sat down in position near the door. In fact, since he knew he might, as was his nature, become lost in the stories, he stuck his foot into the space of the open door, so he would be warned in time to exit if it began to close. He wanted to be able to return home.

Then, he dived into reading the stories, delighting in their varied accountings of how the world and its inhabitants came to exist. He poured over the illustrations noticing how they brought the text to greater life and stimulated his imagination. After a while, it seemed like the light on the side of the door where his world waited was dimming. He returned the books to the shelf retrieving his book and slipped back through the door into his world. The door creaked shut but did not disappear. Curious, Kylan thought. He turned to the path that would take him home. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw that the door had disappeared.

The next day Kylan returned to the oak tree. Of course, he brought a book. He sat down and leaned against the tree just as he had the previous day. He focused on remembering the door in every detail. He hopefully opened his eyes, but no door appeared. He picked up the book he had brought, which was the same book he had been reading the previous day. The heroine was wondering through a wood when she encountered a disembodied smile in a tree. Kylan couldn’t help but smile. This was one of his favorite parts. He looked up from the page and was stunned to see the door again in the flower bed just like the previous day.

He approached the door, wishing he could visit the library again. As that wish came into his mind, he felt a tug on his heart and slowly the door opened a crack. The familiar smell of books wafted in the air. Without hesitation, Kylan stepped through the door. Once again, he found himself in the dimly lit library, but in an entirely different section. He pulled his glow-lump from his pocket and began to shine it on the spines of the books. He read titles and authors. Some of the books were thick; some were thin; most were a bit dusty as if no one had pulled them off the shelf in a while. One author named Charles Dickens had several intriguing titles. The library of Kylan’s great grandfather x 4 did not contain any books by this author. Kylan puled the book titled A Christmas Carol from the shelf. He sat down near the door and began to read, entering the world of Ebenezer Scrooge, a tight-hearted elder man of means who was granted a transformation. It was a marvelous story replete with three magical messengers called the Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Future. Through a series of visitations, these messengers showed the miserly elder to himself. They did this all in one night bringing about Scrooge’s transformation from being a bitter, tight-hearted miser to being a generous, open-hearted beloved member of his community. It was indeed a good read. Kylan was unaware of the passage of time. He looked at the door and saw that once again the light was dimming in his world. He wanted to reread the Dickens, so he used his finger and wrote in the dust on the space on the shelf. “Borrowed. Will return. Kylan.” Then, he hurried out the door back into his world just as the sun sank and the door creaked shut and disappeared. Clutching the book tightly, he made his way home.

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The young librarian opened the library door, flipping the sign from closed to open, put her things away, and made her rounds. When she came to the section that held the works of Dickens, she was astonished to see a hole in the row of titles where A Christmas Carol should have been. Upon closer inspection, she saw scrawled in the dust strange markings that she sensed meant something, but they were in a strange language she had never seen before. She fetched her camera and took a picture of the message intending to send it to a local university for translation, but that never did happen.

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Kylan reread the Dickens book the next day in his accustomed spot under the oak tree. The door did not appear. This happened again and again over many days.  Kylan worried because he had promised to return the book, but could not do so unless the door appeared and opened. Yet, he persisted.

One day as he sat under the oak rereading the Dickens yet again, he sensed a disturbance in the air. He looked up from the book he was reading and saw the door had appeared and was open! Quickly he hurried through.

The deserted library was dimly lit as usual. He pulled out his glow-lump and holding out the Dickens book found his way to the Dickens section as if the book itself were taking him there. The space on the shelf where the book had been was awaiting its return. It seemed to Kylan dustier than ever, so he wiped it clean with his shirttail and slid the book in place. He looked around and then departed empty handed to his world. He did not know then that he would never visit that library again.

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The senior librarian opened the door to the library and went about her customary routine. She moved slower and there were wisps of gray hair framing her face. When she arrived at the Dickens section, she stood transfixed staring at the place on the shelf from whence A Christmas Carol had disappeared long ago in her early days as a librarian. The space was filled. A Christmas Carol was back looking no worse for wear. She was shocked and grateful. She sighed and murmured to the Dickens, “If you could talk, I’m sure you would have quite the tale to tell. Welcome home.”

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The door never appeared to Kylan again. But he never forgot the wonder of being in that public library. After his parents died, he inherited the family library. He decided to convert one of the buildings on the family estate to a public library. He seeded the library with most of his family’s private collection, keeping only a few special books in his home. He worked hard gaining public support from other readers. They pooled their resources donating funds and books. The grand opening of the People’s Public Library drew dignitaries and celebrities and started a movement to reawaken the passion for books and reading across the land. Young and old wanted to learn to read and did so. Teachers of reading became sought after, publishing flourished, and tellers of tales transformed into writers of books. Kylan lived long and was much beloved. He was known far and wide as “He Who Restored Reading.” He died peacefully in his sleep. The People’s Public Library endured and had many branches across the land making books accessible to all. His gift of reading lived on and on.