Pagewalker (Library Gate Series Book 1) Read online

  Pagewalker

  Book One in the Pagewalker Series

  By H. Duke

  Chapter 1

  Full-time librarian needed: Must be able to adapt to any situation or environment and interact with and serve a diverse range of people. Good physical health with the capability for extended periods of physical activity a must. Martial arts experience a plus. To apply, please contact…

  April gripped the paper so harshly that it crinkled in her hands. She’d thought bringing the wanted ad to the interview would make her look thoughtful and prepared. Now it seemed stupid. Why would she need it? She tucked the sheet in the back of the pitiful blue folder she’d purchased at the dollar store the previous evening. Hopefully the interviewer wouldn’t notice it behind the extra copies of her resume.

  April had been set on making a good impression. She’d even bought a new skirt-suit and matching shoes that she certainly couldn’t afford. She needed the job. As a college drop-out, the only other interviews she’d gotten called back for involved dipping baskets of fries in huge vats of oil. The library job paid almost three times that.

  The office door opened and an ancient-looking black woman stuck her head out. “Are you here for the interview?” she asked.

  April stood up so quickly that she almost knocked over the hard-plastic chair she’d been sitting on. She walked through the office door, and the woman closed it behind her. She stuck out her hand, and, just like she’d practiced with Gram the previous night, she said, “Ms. Jackson, it’s a pleasure.”

  Mae reached out and grasped her hand. “Likewise, Ms…” she glanced down at the clipboard in her hands.

  “April,” April said like it was something to be proud of. “April Walker.”

  Mae immediately burst into laughter. “Walker!” she brayed. The laughter turned into a coughing fit. “That’s good,” she wiped at the corners of her eyes after the fit had ended. “Child, that’s real good.”

  “I’m sorry,” April said with a wide smile, trying to stay professional—maybe this was a test. “I don’t get the joke.”

  Mae leaned in. “Do you believe in fate, Ms. Walker?”

  What kind of question was that to ask at an interview? April smiled wider. “Not really,” she said. “I believe in hard work. Why don’t you let me tell you what I can do for—”

  “Save it, child. From a cursory glance at your resume, I can tell you have no experience and no library science degree. Heck, you don’t have a college degree, period.”

  April felt her mouth fall open. “Then why did you call me for an interview?”

  Mae shrugged. “I wasn’t consulted on setting these interviews. But they need my say so to hire for this position.”

  April’s heart sank. She’d done all that preparation for nothing. But she should have known better, shouldn’t she? She wasn’t qualified for this job. All she was qualified for was dunking potatoes into vats of oil.

  But, still. Why would they waste her time by calling her in if they knew she wasn’t fit for the job? Hot anger rose in her chest, and she opened her mouth to yell at the old lady sitting in front of her, her hands clasped as though sitting in church. But then she stopped herself. How would she feel if someone yelled at Gram like that?

  Instead, she stood. Ms. Jackson looked up at her in surprise. “Thank you for your frankness, Ms. Jackson,” she said. “I won’t waste any more of your time.” Or mine, she added silently. She was proud of the words. Gram would be proud.

  She extended her hand, and Mae Jackson took it, a surprised look on her face. “Why, child. I didn’t mean any offense. I—”

  “None taken,” April said, allowing herself the small satisfaction of cutting her off. She turned to walk towards the door, but she stopped before opening it.

  The words came out before she was able to stop them. “You’re wrong. I suppose if what you really want is someone who’s proven they can sit in class for four years and remember facts and vocabulary words, then I guess you’re right. I’m not qualified. But if you want someone who would do anything for this job, well…” she paused. “I guess you’ll never know, will you?”

  She turned away before Mae could say anything and walked faster than she ever thought possible in heels. She hobbled down the stairs, not caring about looking professional anymore. She walked out the door and into the parking lot, pausing to pull the heels off. Who cared if her pantyhose got dirty? It wasn’t like she was going to use them again.

  She opened Gram’s good purse, which she’d borrowed for the interview, and slid the heels inside. She’d just zipped it closed and was about to slide it over her shoulder when a man walking by reached out and yanked it away.

  Instinctively, April held on, nearly pulling her arms out of their sockets. She knew she should just let the bag go—there wasn’t anything important inside—but she couldn’t. She couldn’t stand letting one more person walk all over her.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” she hissed, and darted towards the man—he’d picked the wrong day to mess with her. He yelped, waving one arm out behind him to keep from losing his balance. The other still clutched her bag. She reared back and struck his nose with the heel of her palm.

  The man yelped again and grabbed his nose with both his hands, releasing the bag.

  She was about to head to her car when a large, balding Latino man in a security guard’s uniform jogged out of the library. Just what she needed—to be arrested for assault. She turned to look if she could still get away, but there was now a wall of rubberneckers standing between her and the parking lot.

  She sighed. It was probably better to stay. Running away would be like admitting she’d done something wrong.

  “Man,” the security guard puffed as he ran over to her. “Someone told me there was a scuffle over a purse, but I see someone already took care of it for me.”

  April thought about trying to blame the man’s injuries on a knight in shining armor who immediately ran away after kicking the man’s butt, but… screw that.

  “Yeah, me.”

  “You did this?” Andre said, looking at the moaning man on the ground, still clutching his nose. Tears leaked down his cheeks.

  April rolled her eyes. “Five years of Krav Maga. A simple palm-strike to the nose.” She winced. Had she just incriminated herself? “He was trying to steal my purse,” she said. “that’s self-defense, right?”

  “Yeah. Trust me—you’re not culpable in this situation. But you will have to wait around for the police if you want to press charges.” He paused. “You do want to press charges, don’t you?”

  April looked down at the would-be thief still writhing on the ground. She could be the one screwing up someone else’s life for a change. But then she shook her head. That didn’t make any sense.

  “No,” she said. “That broken nose is punishment enough. He didn’t get the purse, anyway.” She yelled down at the man. “Joke’s on you—there’s less than ten dollars in change in this thing.”

  The man held his hands up over his head. “Whatever, lady,” he said, his voice nasally. “Just don’t hit me again.”

  “Can I go?” she asked the security guard.

  “Yeah, as long as you’re sure about not pressing charges.”

  As she left, April glanced up at the library. In one of the windows she saw a wrinkled face staring down at her. Mae.

  “Damn it,” she whispered under her breath. Oh, well. It wasn’t like she was getting the job anyway.

  She averted her eyes from the old woman’s gaze and walked back to the sanctuary of her car.

  ~~~

  When April came out for breakfast the following morning, Gram was already sitting in the kitchen,
a mug of green tea and a grapefruit on the table in front of her.

  April sat down across from her grandmother. “Morning, Gram.”

  “Morning. So I saw that you put your new pantsuit back in the bag.”

  “I’m planning on taking it back to the store today. There’s no point in keeping it—it’s too expensive if I don’t have a job to wear it too. It’s not like I can wear it to work at McDonalds.”

  “You never know,” Gram said. “You might still get the job. Think positive.”

  April almost laughed at Gram’s unwavering optimism. “Gram… I walked out of the interview and then broke some guy’s nose. There’s positive, and then there’s delusional.”

  “You got their attention. Do you think the other candidates can say that? No matter what, they won’t forget you. And that’s ninety percent of the battle.”

  “Yeah, and the other ten percent is being qualified and professional, and—”

  Her cell phone, which she’d set on the kitchen table, began to vibrate. They both fell silent. Restricted number flashed across the screen. They stared at it until the phone stopped buzzing.

  Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, the phone started buzzing again.

  “You’d better answer,” Gram said with a sigh. “They’ll just keep calling, otherwise.”

  April sighed and put the phone against her ear. “Hello?”

  “Hello. This phone call is for April Walker, concerning an outstanding credit card balance.”

  “This is she.” April winced. “I’ll save you some trouble. I’d pay you if I could, but I don’t have any money.”

  “I find that highly unlikely, Ms. Walker,” the woman on the other end said. “You must have some assets. A car, a house.”

  “Listen, I’m looking for a job,” April said. The mention of the house made her heart rate skyrocket. “I’ll be able to start making the payments soon. I just need—”

  “By the looks of your account, you should have been looking for a job over a year ago.”

  April bristled against the woman’s judgment. “I couldn’t. My grandmother was sick and there was no one to take care of her.”

  The woman didn’t even miss a beat. “I’m informing you that if we do not start receiving payments, we will have to seize your assets.”

  April stared down at the phone, flabbergasted. Anger flared in her chest. She put the phone to her ear again. “You people are truly heartless, you know that?” She hung up the phone before the agent could say anything else.

  Gram started down at her tea, splotches of red blooming on her face. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

  April rose and started to make herself some coffee. “Don’t be. Those asshats should be sorry.”

  “April! Language!” Gram said, but she smiled.

  Then the phone started ringing again. Without even looking at the screen, April grabbed it and hit the accept call button. “Look, I just told you—I don’t have anything!”

  There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice said, “I think there’s been a mix-up, Ms. Walker.”

  The color drained out of April’s cheeks. “Ms. Jackson?”

  “The one and only.” There was a dry, amused tone to her voice. “It’s good to hear your voice again.”

  April jumped up, and Gram looked at her with interest. “Ms. Jackson—hi. Hello. What can I do for you?” she asked. She was caught too off guard to think of anything more eloquent.

  “At the end of our interview you said you would do anything for this job. Did you mean it?”

  Without hesitating, April said, “Yes.”

  “Can you come in tomorrow to fill out some paperwork?”

  April had to sit back down. “I got the job? Really?”

  “Yep.” Mae’s tone was colored by a smile.

  April knew she should just leave it at that, but she couldn’t. “I mean, why? I didn’t think I made a good impression.”

  Mae paused before answering. “But you made an impression, all right. I’ll see you soon, Ms. Walker.”

  Chapter 2

  Despite Mae’s promise that they’d see each other soon, it was over a week before they met again. April had gone to the library the following morning and learned that Mae wouldn’t be in until two in the afternoon. April would also work the night shift.

  She was then sent downtown for fingerprinting and drug testing. She spent the next week in the city’s personnel services building, suffering through classes with titles like, “Customer Service Rockstars” and “What to Do with Difficult Patrons.” These classes had been an uncomfortable callback to her semester at college. She was glad when the week was over.

  April almost didn’t recognize Mae when she saw her in the library that Friday. She looked… there was no other word for it: shriveled, almost deflated. Like a balloon in need of air. She’d seemed fine the previous week. Had she gotten ill since the interview?

  Mae shuffled towards her with the help of a wooden cane. “Ms. Walker—how nice to see you again.” Her voice was breathier than April remembered.

  “It’s nice to see you, as well,” April said. She hoped her smile hid her shock.

  Mae stuck out her hand, and April took it. It felt cold and frail.

  “Right,” Mae said. “Let’s start with a tour.” She gestured around. “The library has three floors, as you know. The first floor contains the children’s and teen’s collections. The desk nearest the door is the welcome desk—the first point of contact for the public. There are also two reference desks, one in the children’s area and one in the teen area.”

  “Will I be working at those?” April asked.

  Mae shook her head. “They’re staffed by LAs—library assistants—and librarians in those departments. You’ll be working exclusively on the third floor, where we had your… it was a tad too short for an interview, wasn’t it?” She nodded back towards a newer-looking hallway that didn’t seem to fit with the library’s aged wood and mahogany. “That’s the new addition—at least it was new ten years ago. It contains the conference room and a computer lab.”

  “New addition?”

  “I take it you’re not familiar with this building’s history.”

  April shook her head. She didn’t want to admit that until the interview she hadn’t been to any library since she graduated high school. She wasn’t much of a reader.

  “This building was originally a residential mansion owned by the Werner family. It was called Werner House back in those days. It was donated to the library system—along with the Werner collection of books and other artifacts—in the 1950s, when Oswald Werner passed away.”

  A plump blond woman who looked slightly older than April approached them. “Hello, Mae.” She said, then turned to April. “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Becky, nighttime children’s librarian. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. We were wondering who finally convinced Mae they were worthy of this job.”

  She extended her hand and April took it. What did she mean, finally convinced Mae? “April.”

  If Becky’s words struck Mae as weird, the old woman didn’t show it. “If you ever have any questions and I’m not around, you can call Becky.”

  Becky nodded. “Whatever you need. I’m usually on the children’s ref desk.”

  After saying goodbye to Becky they walked to the staircase. There was a chair lift installed against the railing. Mae grimaced at the steps. She turned and looked at April. “You’ll have to be patient with me,” she said. “I’m an old woman.” Her smile fell away as her eyes returned to the stairs.

  April had expected Mae to use the chair lift—she had trouble walking across the floor, how could she walk up the stairs?—but there was no way she could say so. She nodded, and walked up, stopping at the first landing. She winced when she turned around to see Mae only on the second step. The old woman gripped the railing, half pulling herself up, using her cane to get leverage. She took the steps one at a time.

&nb
sp; “You… go… ahead…” Mae said as she reached the first landing. She wheezed in and out for several seconds, her breath slowly returning almost to normal. “I’ll meet you on the… second floor.”

  “Are you okay?” April said. “Are you sure you don’t want—”

  Mae cut her off. “Go on… now,” she wheezed in a tone that told April not to argue.

  Not knowing what else to do, April walked up to the second floor. She waited for Mae to appear, her hand pressed to her mouth. She didn’t like this. Didn’t anyone else see how in bad shape Mae was?

  “Well, if it isn’t the butt whoopin’ girl.”

  She turned to see the bald security guard from the previous week. “Hey,” she said, her face getting warm.

  “If I had known you were going to be working here, I would have introduced myself,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Andre, the night security guard.”

  April took his warm, calloused hand. “April Walker.” She looked back at the staircase. Mae’s gray head had appeared over the railing. “Is she okay?”

  Andre looked over at Mae and sighed. “She refuses to take the chair lift. She’s stubborn, says walking up the stairs is her daily exercise.” he shook his head. “But who can argue with her? She’s almost ninety and still working. She must know better than us.”

  April nodded. Maybe she was being sensitive about Mae’s condition.

  Andre clapped her on the shoulder. It didn’t hurt, but the impact was strong enough to startle her.

  “Gotta do the upstairs round before my break,” he said before taking off faster than a person his size normally would. He jogged up the staircase just as Mae reached the landing. She paused, waving away April’s concerned look.

  Once Mae caught her breath, she gestured around the room. “This is where the general fiction and nonfiction collections are kept—best sellers and self-help books and stuff like that. There’s one reference desk on this floor.” She took special care to point out all the catalog computers and study rooms, and April got the impression she was giving herself more time to catch her breath before having to tackle the stairs again.