A Trip In the Library

                                                                Word Count: 2941

A Trip in the Library

By Mary Ann Sciavillo-Lopez                                 

“I don’t understand why you can’t do your research online. You talked Dad into getting satellite Wi-Fi, but here we are, making the long trip to the city library from our farm.”

“Online is fine for regular stuff, but I like to walk in the library and smell the scent of old books, sit at a desk and feel physical pages in my hands. I guess I’m old school, sis.” Donna said.

“More like a nerd with a capital N. You’re a strange one.”

“I guess I am. A dying breed of library patrons,” Donna giggled.

“Please try to get it done in one day. I don’t want to have to drive an hour each way several times for a summer school project,” Cindy pleaded.

“It’s an extra credit project.”

“What! You mean you don’t even have to do this, hmpf. You already have three colleges accepting you, on full scholarships, no less, and you’ve only finished your junior year. Go have some fun before summer ends.”

Donna smiled at her sister, ignoring her rambling, “I promise if I don’t get through all the research today, I’ll finish it up on the internet.”

Unlike Donna, Cindy never wanted to sit another day in a classroom. Already engaged to marry her high school sweetheart like most of the locals, Cindy preferred farm life, but not Donna, she wanted more.

“Why don’t you get your license? How are ya going to get around in college?”

“They do have buses in college towns, plus everything I need will be within walking distance, unlike the one-horse town we live in.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the simple life.”

“I know, but it’s not what I want.”

Cindy pulled into the library parking lot. One hour’s drive into the city and it was like entering another world. Cars everywhere, pulling out with little care of another in their path, people jamming the sidewalks looking like zombies, no one taking a moment to smile or talk, everyone entranced by their phones.

“So, this is the life you want? Big city experiences. You can keep it.” Cindy said.

Donna didn’t bother to reply. It’s been the same argument for the last two years, ever since she told her family she planned to go away to college and live in a city, somewhere, anywhere but home, after she graduated.

“Why can’t you go to the state college.” Her Mom and sister kept insisting.

They didn’t understand, but her Dad did. He encouraged her education. “Do whatever it takes to achieve your goals. Have a life away from the struggles of farming. It’s not as profitable as it once was.”

Donna wanted to see the world, experience life, hang out with people with like minds. She became obsessed with anthropology when she was in grammar school. Hard to make friends in school with her weird curiosities. Except for her history teacher, Mr. Hampton, she had no one to talk to about human cultures and behavior. All the girls in her class were busy chasing football players. Like her sister, they settle for marrying young and continued living the small-town life where everyone knows everything about you. A few jocks got scholarships, a few even made it to the pros, but most were destined to continue their father's legacy of farming. Donna had nothing against that, it just wasn’t for her.

“Thanks, sis, I’ll call you when I’m done.” Donna opened the car door.

“Yeah, well, give me at least an hour’s notice, and don’t wait until closing time. I don’t want you sitting out here alone.”

“Okay, okay.” Donna kissed her sister’s cheek and exited the car.

Donna hoped the extra credit and attending summer school would give her another positive notch on her school record. She was entering her senior year in the fall, and even though colleges have accepted her already with full scholarships, she wanted to make a good impression. Living in a small farming town didn’t give her much opportunity for experiences, other than farming and volunteering at her church’s Sunday School program. The extra credit on the Great Depression wouldn’t hurt with her planned double major in Anthropology and History. She’d do anything to succeed and live elsewhere.

Anyway, what else is there to do around here in the summer; hang out at the diner, go to a movie, get into stupid trouble like a lot of the cool girls in her class, Donna thought.

Donna walked up the steps to the building’s entrance and opened the door to the library. As soon as she stepped in, the surroundings made her feel good. The Library wasn’t as crowded as it was during the school year, but there were still patrons scattered around desks, tables, and aisles. As usual, all the computer desks were full, since not too many people in small farming towns had Wi-Fi access. Satellite internet cost too much for most households, and cable Wi-Fi hadn’t yet reached far enough in her rural America. Thankfully, her Dad understood the need for his daughter and budgeted for satellite. Her town had an internet café, but most of the kids went there to meet up rather than to study.

Donna walked over to the library system computer and typed in a search for books on the Great Depression. There were several. She jotted down the location of a couple of interesting titles and headed up the steps to the aisle matching the books Dewey Decimal 301.2. While Donna pulled out the two books she had noted, an enormous book next to them fell to the floor. She hadn’t even touched it.

“That’s weird.” Donna's face heated in embarrassment.

She looked around the aisle and over the rail to the main floor to see if anyone had seen the book drop or heard the noise it made upon impact with the thin gray carpet. No one seemed to have noticed or didn’t really care. She picked up the book and read the title. One-on-One Facts of the Great Depression.

“Okay, you win. I’ll take you with me too.” Donna raised her free hand to her lips, suppressing her giggle.

She headed back down to the main floor and found an empty table, pulled out a chair, and sat. She opened the huge book that got her attention and raised it up in a standing position. Donna flipped the pages to the prologue and found a pentagon-shaped coin, larger than a half-dollar, stuck in the binding. She pulled it out, surprised to find it firmly wedged in. She placed it in her palm and read the inscription.

“1931, The Great Depression,” Donna whispered.

The room started to spin. Her view went black. She closed her eyes and held on to the armrest of the chair, afraid she might fall off. The whirling stopped in a matter of seconds but seemed to go on forever. Donna opened her eyes, but no longer saw the insides of the library. Instead, she found herself transported to her family’s farm.

***

“What the...?” Donna stood there entranced, scoping her surroundings.

The farm appeared the same, but yet different. She noticed the paint on the main house looked chipped and worn. The trees in her front yard were half their size and there was one less building adjacent to the barn. The barn and paddock had a whitewashed finish instead of rust-colored paint. A dilapidated picket fence stood in place of the wired fence, marking the property line, and the corral housed cows and sheep instead of horses.

“I must be dreaming, no way this is real. I...” Donna whispered to no one there.

She started to move, heading to the front door, but stopped when she caught sight of a man in peripheral vision. Donna turned her head toward him. He looked a lot like her father, but sported a crewcut, and wore odd overalls and work boots.

He yelled out to her. “Is there something I could help you with?”

“I'm sorry, isn't this the Williston house?”

“Yes, it is. It’s been in my family since the early 1900s. Bought and paid for by my Paw,” the man acknowledged.

“Your Paw, how can that be? Is this some kind of joke?” Donna said, half out loud.

“I don't know who you are or if you're lost, but you seem confused. Let me help you?”

Donna ignored him and scrutinized the property, before looking back at the man. “It can't be. My great-great-grandfather bought, he… um…”

“I'm sorry, what did you say about your great-great-grandfather…”

“Nothing, nothing. I'm sorry I don't know what's going on. I'm sorry to bother you.”

The man walked over to where Donna stood.

“Calm down, we’ll figure this out. I’m Joseph Jr., Joe Williston.” Joe held out his hand.

Donna extended her arm to him and stared at his face a little longer than necessary. “Donna Will... Williams.”

He looks so much like my Dad, she thought.

Joe gave her a concerned look and she let go of his hand. “Come inside. My wife will give you a glass of lemonade, or some water. You look parched. Are you hungry? We don't have much, but we share what we have with our neighbors. This depression is tough, we help wherever we can. Please, come inside, get out of the sun. Maybe you’ll feel better after you cool off, then we can try to figure out what's troubling you and help you find your way.”

Donna hesitated, still believing she’s dreaming, but then she remembered the coin in her hand.

Could it have something to do with this? She wondered and put the coin in the pocket of her jeans. No, I’m asleep in the library. I didn’t sleep much last night.

Donna followed Joseph inside. Why not, he's related. I’ve heard nothing negative about my ancestors to be concerned. It’s a dream, anyway, right?

“Sylvie, we have company. This young woman is lost and can't remember where she came from.” Joe shouted.

The rooms, from what Donna could see from where she stood in the kitchen, were set up pretty much the same as in her house, except with different furniture and appliances. Sylvie entered the kitchen through the living room opening.

Sylvie. You’d be my grandmother, twice removed, I think. I never get the removes right, if she’s even real. Donna questioned her own sanity.

Sylvie looked exactly like the one portrait Donna’s Dad had of her, more beautiful in person, though. She had long curly brown hair and hazel eyes and stood lean and tall, at least 5’8”.

Donna asked if she could splash water on her face to cool off.

Sylvie replied, “Of course. I just filled the basin on the counter there, and if you need to use the outhouse, it’s directly across the lot.”

Donna forgot farms only had outhouses, no indoor plumbing, and tubs in the kitchen, to be filled with heated water from a pot on the wood-burning stove during this period in time.

I couldn't imagine living without all the necessities. The realization struck Donna. I’ve always taken them for granted.

“Thank you, ma'am,” Donna walked over to the basin and cupped water into her hands, and washed her face. Sylvie handed her a towel to dry off.

“Please, sit, sweetheart. So, you can't remember anything? Did you hit your head? Were you in some kind of accident? Did you fall off your horse, maybe? You look familiar. Maybe you’re a relative of one of our nearby neighboring farms.” Sylvie rambled on with questions.

Donna didn't know what to say. She shrugged her shoulders. I’m from right where I’m sitting, but how could I tell them that?

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Willison. I just don’t know what I’m doing in your time, um, house. Please, I seem to have forgotten the year.”

“We need to get you to Doc Spearing in town if you can’t even remember the year. You must have a concussion.” Joe sounded concerned. “It’s 1931.”

“1931! The Great Depression.” The same year on the coin, Donna recalled.

“Yes, that’s right, you’re remembering. Though, I never heard it called great before. Not much of anything great about it. The country is in a crisis, failing in poverty.” Joe added, diverting his eyes downward.

“How have you managed? No one really ever told, I mean, how have you kept the farm going and all and not go bankrupt?” Donna asked. Her interest perked with her love of anthropology and history, but more because they were family.

“Well, since we grew more than we could sell at below cost, we hired a few hands and paid them with crops and some livestock. We’ve housed them and their families in the paddock and moved our horses to the smaller barn. The few cows we have left are for milk, and the sheep, for meat. We keep them in the corrals unless the weather is brutal.” Joe explained.

“I didn’t know... it got that bad here. But you’re surviving.” Donna stated.

“So far. We do what we can. We’re blessed living on property paid in full by Joe’s Paw, thank the good Lord.” Sylvie said.

“Some farmers, in other towns, grouped together and rioted the government to stop the banks from taking their farms. They even risked stopping trucks from delivering to the cities, thinking it would help raise prices, but nothing helped.” Joe choked on his words.

Sylvie continued for him. “We barter for other things we need. We’ve increased the variety of vegetables and we trade for eggs and an occasional chicken and other stuff like soap and necessities.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize, I mean, my family has been in farming all their lives up to now, but I never considered what they went through, the hard times and the good times. I guess I always just took it for granted. Though we’re not rich by any means, we never lacked for food, or paying bills, and all.”

“You’re young. I’m sure your Paw has kept the difficult times from your ears.” Joe said.

“You’re probably right, they tend to keep quiet about finances.” Donna agreed.

“They just want to protect you from their worries,” Sylvie said.

“Well, you’ve been kind, but I need to be on my way. I think my memory is back.” Donna stood up.

“Are you sure?” Sylvie sounded concerned. “You can stay longer if you need, right Joe.”

“Of course,” Joe said.

“No, thank you. I’m feeling fine now. Thank you again for your hospitality,” Donna replied.

She needed to wake up. She needed to be in the library. Before Joe and Sylvie intervened, Donna exited from her house of yesteryear and walked far enough to be out of their sight. When she reached a wooded area past the property, she took the coin out of her pocket and held it in her palm, and looked at it. Her head spun again. She closed her fingers tight around the coin before everything around her went black.

***

Donna felt a tapping on her shoulder and heard a voice.

“Wake up, the library is about to close.”

Donna slowly opened her eyes.

“You need to either check out your books, dear, or put them on the return rack.” The librarian said.

“What, huh? Oh, I must have dozed off, weird dream,” Donna said.

“Must have been, I’ve been trying to wake you for at least a minute. Are you okay? Should I call someone for you?”

“No, no, I’m okay. Thank you. I’ll call my ride.” Donna took out her phone from her back pocket.

“Okay, then.”

“I’ll check out these books, please... not this one.” Donna pointed to the large book still standing open at the Prologue page.

The librarian took the two books from Donna and looked away towards two patrons exiting the building. Donna seized the moment to return the coin to the massive book but changed her mind and stuck the coin back into her pocket, instead.

Maybe someday, she thought, she’d try examining the coin when she gets up enough courage.

Donna closed the book and pushed it across the table, afraid to carry it over to the return rack.

“Here, give me your library card and I’ll set up the two books while you make your call.” The Librarian said.

“What time is it?” Donna asked, handing over her card.

“Fifteen minutes before closing.”

“Oh boy, I’ll have to wait alone for nearly an hour for my ride.”

“You can wait in here with me. I have at least an hour’s work to do before leaving.”

“Thank you. My sister would kill me if she saw me sitting outside a locked building all by myself.”

When Donna returned home, she went straight to her room and sat on her bed, rehashing her memory of the experience she had.

It seemed so real. Could I have time traveled? Was it the coin? Donna felt for it in her pocket but did not want to risk looking at it. Joseph and Sylvie, my great-great-grandparents, told me things I hadn’t known.

Donna figured she may never know for sure if her experience was real but found herself finally appreciating the hard work her parents and ancestors, as well as her small town of nearby farmers, had to do every day and the sacrifices they made to keep their farms going. Especially, in this day and age, with imports and prices endangering what’s left of farming and ranch life in America.

The life of a farmer might not be her interest as a career, but she understood better the necessity of it all.