The world of books

   I had left school in fifth grade because ma and pa need me to help on the farm. We had over 1000 acres and had a pretty large size dairy herd. I didn’t mind though because I was never much of a learner. When I was about 21, I began to realize that I needed to work on my reading and math skills because both of these were now something I needed with what my various jobs were for the farm. There was an adult educational at out local high school that had night time classes for people like me. So, I enrolled.

   The first few weeks were rough because I was basically a functioning illiterate. I asked my reading teacher if they could tutor me and we set up twice a week meeting at the city library. I slowly began to improve. Then one might my teacher said something that changed my view on reading forever. “Ann, when you learn to read you will find out the meaning of self. You won’t just be so and so kid, or sibling because when you lose your self in a book. You become whom ever you want to be. Your mind develops the ability to be both and observer and a character. This skill can then be applied to other areas of your life”

   As my reading skill improved, I really began to understand what my teacher had meant. I started reading all the time. I’d even get a little angry when people would interrupt me while I was reading. I started with books like Phantom Tollbooth. Were the wild things are, and all of the Harry Potter series, and then graduated to more advanced book. One night I was returning the last book from the Dune series and I spotted a classmate form night school. I walked over to where they were seating and we exchanged pleasantries. The Liberian gave us that look like we were being to loud. My friend explained they had to go and left. On the table they had left a book. The cover was the first thing that caught my eye. I could see it was an older book because it was cover in leather and the lettering on the title looked to be gold leaf paint.  The book’s title was “The works of Edgar Allen Poe.” I picked up the book and took over to the Liberian. “May I check out this book?” I asked. “Oh no Ann, I’m sorry that can’t be checked out but you can read it in the library. It’s a rathe rare book in our city and we don’t let any one check it out.” I sighed. “Ann,” the Liberian said, there are other copied of that authors work but in paper back and less valuable than this one. Those you can check out” My face split in to a huge smile. I grasped my phone and took a picture of the part of the book that listed its contents. “Okay then could you get me a copy of “"The Masque of the Red Death"? “Sure, thing Ann but I’ve never known you to be interested in horror stories before.” I gulped, “horror stories?” “Well not horror stories like today’s kind but he was very fascinated with death. The Masque of the Red Death is not really frighting but it will take your mind to a whole different place then what your use to reading.” As I mulled that over in my mind she went and got the book.

    “Here you go Ann. You sure you want to check it out?’ I grinned. “Well, I’m up for a new experience so yup it’s coming home with me.” I got in the car and head towards the farm. As I drove home, I thought about my classmate. We had all had to introduce our selves on the first day of class. He had moved to The US in September 2013 from a place called  Guéckédou, Guinea, which he said is located in West Africa. He had come to the US to work and save money to bring back to his family. I remembered some asking him why he never went back. He simple said that his whole family had died. A few days later when my teacher was tutoring me, I asked about my classmate Sam. “Ann,” my teacher said, “Three months after Sam left his home on of the worsted Ebola outbreaks in history hit his village. It led to thousands of deaths and the only thing that saved Sam was that he was in American when it began” I wondered if that was why Sam was reading the works of Edgar Allen Poe.

     I got home around 8pm and said high to the family. Ma had put a plate in the refrigerator for me so I heated it up and head upstairs to my desk to begin reading. The way Mr. Poe wrote was very deferent from my other books, kind of in old fashion English. I was getting the hang off but I figured I should take down my dinner plate and then come back up and get comfy in my bed. It was dark outside and the wind had picked up. The house was pretty quiet so I figured everyone had gone to bed. I picked up my book turned on the lamp by the bed and began to read. By the time I had finished chapter one that thing had kicked in that happens when you read. I was right there at the party watching everyone trying to pretend that death wasn’t trying to get to us all. Time was of no importance because I had to find out what was going to happen. I gasped as I came to the finally part of the tale. My heart was beating fast and I was even feeling a touch of fear. I closed the book and let out a deep breath. Wow, Edger Allen Poe was now my newest favorite author.

   I put the book away and turned out the light. I thought about my classmate Sam. I could understand why he wanted to read the book. I had looked up the Ebola crisis in his country and it had been a shock to learn what had really happened. I couldn’t what till our next night of class because I wanted to thank Sam for turning me on to Poe. I was also hoping that maybe if he knew I had read the book he would feel like opening up a little. He was so withdrawn but after reading that story and thinking about his life I kind of got why