WEBVTT 1 00:00:05.440 --> 00:00:08.880 Retirement, I had told myself, meant gentle mornings and a 2 00:00:08.919 --> 00:00:13.039 steady quiet, no more darting between classrooms or wrangling the 3 00:00:13.080 --> 00:00:17.039 puzzle of young minds. My hands, pigeon boned and lined 4 00:00:17.039 --> 00:00:20.079 with faded chalk, had lately taken to trembling a little 5 00:00:20.079 --> 00:00:23.280 when I held my tea part nerves, part the sheer, 6 00:00:23.359 --> 00:00:27.160 loosened ache of time. I had not expected anything peculiar 7 00:00:27.199 --> 00:00:30.000 from the Riverside Library when I carried in a battered 8 00:00:30.039 --> 00:00:33.640 box of picture books on a Monday, washed in October sunlight. 9 00:00:34.759 --> 00:00:38.039 My aim was closure to pass along the most beloved 10 00:00:38.079 --> 00:00:42.000 volumes from decades of teaching, allowing them a second life 11 00:00:42.200 --> 00:00:47.000 among young hands and wise cracking teenagers. Inside the old 12 00:00:47.039 --> 00:00:50.840 stone building was familiar, but impossible not to admire, a 13 00:00:50.880 --> 00:00:54.960 strange blend of civic grandeur and homey cheer, sunlight pooling 14 00:00:55.079 --> 00:00:59.240 like gold along the checkerboard tiles. At first, the familiar 15 00:00:59.320 --> 00:01:02.520 hush felt like balm. I waited behind a father and 16 00:01:02.600 --> 00:01:05.680 his daughter at the donation desk, glancing now and then 17 00:01:05.760 --> 00:01:09.120 at the lively chaos beyond. A toddler running in sock 18 00:01:09.200 --> 00:01:12.799 skidded circles near the carpeted story nook a rustle of 19 00:01:12.879 --> 00:01:17.239 university sweatshirts. Ducking into the stacks. In the hush, I 20 00:01:17.239 --> 00:01:20.480 could just hear the river's ceaseless current through the old walls. 21 00:01:21.000 --> 00:01:23.959 This place had always felt like a bridge set down 22 00:01:24.040 --> 00:01:28.760 over running water, no matter how you entered. Donating books 23 00:01:28.840 --> 00:01:33.120 is usually a thankless process. But the front desk librarian, Sarah, 24 00:01:33.239 --> 00:01:36.280 as a Badge said in tidy script, accepted them with 25 00:01:36.319 --> 00:01:39.879 an attentiveness bordering on the devout. Her eyes flicked through 26 00:01:39.879 --> 00:01:43.280 my titles, where the Wild Things Are, My Father's Dragon, 27 00:01:43.480 --> 00:01:47.239 James and the Giant Peach and more. Her approval unspoken 28 00:01:47.319 --> 00:01:50.079 but warming. We'll be sure these have a good home, 29 00:01:50.439 --> 00:01:52.840 she said, placing each one with care in a deep 30 00:01:52.879 --> 00:01:56.560 blue bin behind the counter. I was half way towards 31 00:01:56.560 --> 00:02:00.000 the stairs, the day's business essentially done, when a small 32 00:02:00.200 --> 00:02:03.000 round table near the end of the mezzanine caught my eye. 33 00:02:03.480 --> 00:02:06.519 The wintering sunlight fell across it so precisely that the 34 00:02:06.519 --> 00:02:09.479 books glowed in a sort of soft halo. I found 35 00:02:09.520 --> 00:02:13.919 myself slowing, drawn off course, as if by mild gravitational force. 36 00:02:14.439 --> 00:02:17.400 There lay a neat, semicircle of hard backs and paperbacks, 37 00:02:17.639 --> 00:02:21.319 some in slip cases, some wrapped in protective mylah all 38 00:02:21.439 --> 00:02:26.240 arranged spine forward in ascending size. Almost at once. Goose 39 00:02:26.240 --> 00:02:29.439 bumps pricked my arms. The titles, at a glance were 40 00:02:29.439 --> 00:02:33.159 not the usual Top ten suspects. I saw old favorites, yes, 41 00:02:33.560 --> 00:02:36.680 the Phantom Toll Booth, the Snowy Day, but the shine 42 00:02:36.680 --> 00:02:40.560 of familiarity turned unsettling as I leaned closer. There was 43 00:02:40.599 --> 00:02:43.479 The Wind on the Moon, a title eyed spoken allowed 44 00:02:43.560 --> 00:02:46.159 only to a single beloved teacher in the fourth grade, 45 00:02:46.520 --> 00:02:49.840 and the nineteen sixty eight Puffing Classic edition with the 46 00:02:49.879 --> 00:02:53.560 dolphin colored jacket. Next To it was Janey and the 47 00:02:53.639 --> 00:02:56.360 Sun Cat, which my mother used to supplement with her 48 00:02:56.400 --> 00:03:00.360 own invented endings. Some were mainstream, but the details were 49 00:03:00.360 --> 00:03:04.840 off covers with illustrations. I remembered differently, a dust jacket 50 00:03:04.840 --> 00:03:07.240 mat where it ought to gleam. The fought not quite 51 00:03:07.240 --> 00:03:11.400 the one I'd subconsciously cataloged in memory. The publisher logos 52 00:03:11.400 --> 00:03:14.840 had shifted, like tiny errors in the matrix. A penguin 53 00:03:14.960 --> 00:03:18.560 mascot swapped for a crescent moon. A spine label scentered 54 00:03:18.599 --> 00:03:22.080 when it should be left justified. A tangle of emotion 55 00:03:22.240 --> 00:03:26.919 took hold. Nostalgia certainly, but also a pinpoint unease, the 56 00:03:27.039 --> 00:03:29.400 kind you feel when a friend recalls an event you 57 00:03:29.439 --> 00:03:32.520 are sure never happened. The arrangement on the table was 58 00:03:32.560 --> 00:03:37.879 two pointed, almost intimate logic in its bland reassurance suggested 59 00:03:37.919 --> 00:03:41.919 a mere lucky overlap. These were classics, after all, nothing 60 00:03:42.000 --> 00:03:47.800 supernatural about overlapping tastes. Sarah's voice broke the trance. Thank 61 00:03:47.840 --> 00:03:51.240 you again, mister Collins, she said, using the name written 62 00:03:51.240 --> 00:03:56.240 on the donation's slip. I shuffled automatically, smiling and made 63 00:03:56.280 --> 00:03:59.560 some pleasantry about the weight of nostalgia. But my gaze 64 00:03:59.599 --> 00:04:02.680 drifted unbidden back to that table. I found. I could 65 00:04:02.719 --> 00:04:05.719 not quite bring myself to mention the odd sense of recognition. 66 00:04:06.319 --> 00:04:09.680 I draw attention, after all, to fleeting tricks of memory 67 00:04:09.800 --> 00:04:13.599 or a moment's unreality. I simply nodded, said good bye, 68 00:04:13.639 --> 00:04:18.000 and resolved, without force or real intent, that before leaving, 69 00:04:18.040 --> 00:04:21.519 I would look again. Not so much out of suspicion, 70 00:04:21.800 --> 00:04:25.800 I told myself, simply to satisfy the urge, like fingering 71 00:04:25.839 --> 00:04:29.560 a loose tooth. When I finally exited into the thin 72 00:04:29.680 --> 00:04:34.319 morning chill, I deliberately resisted glancing back inside. But I 73 00:04:34.399 --> 00:04:38.079 carried the sensation home, that of standing at the threshold 74 00:04:38.120 --> 00:04:40.639 of a puzzle offered by a place I had thought 75 00:04:41.000 --> 00:04:45.279 was simply familiar. Officially, my retirement had begun some six 76 00:04:45.319 --> 00:04:48.560 months earlier. In truth, I had been preparing to release 77 00:04:48.600 --> 00:04:53.360 the routines of teaching four decades, two grade levels, myriad assemblies, 78 00:04:53.360 --> 00:04:57.439 and lesson plans since winter's earliest breath that year. There's 79 00:04:57.439 --> 00:05:01.079 a subtle pressure in filling unstructured days. My solution was 80 00:05:01.120 --> 00:05:05.319 a patchwork of loose obligations and small pleasures. Every Tuesday, 81 00:05:05.439 --> 00:05:11.360 coffee with Jerry and Lane, breadth of opinion, generous, with teasing. Thursdays, 82 00:05:11.480 --> 00:05:14.800 two hours of volunteer tutoring at the application center for 83 00:05:14.920 --> 00:05:19.920 new residents. Mornings often started with a walk riverside through 84 00:05:20.000 --> 00:05:22.959 bands of willow and plane tree, or up along the 85 00:05:23.079 --> 00:05:27.920 edge of the city park as traffic grumbled awake. Most fulfilling, 86 00:05:28.199 --> 00:05:32.160 and perhaps most surprising, was my new library habit. Retirement 87 00:05:32.160 --> 00:05:35.079 awoke a craving for certain patterns, and for me, the 88 00:05:35.199 --> 00:05:38.680 Riverside Library became a kind of anchor. My childhood had 89 00:05:38.680 --> 00:05:42.639 been book filled, mother reading aloud, stormy afternoons spent hiding 90 00:05:42.680 --> 00:05:45.920 between thriller and fantasy. In my working years, I had 91 00:05:46.000 --> 00:05:49.920 visited the library only for class room resources or professional meetings, 92 00:05:50.199 --> 00:05:54.839 scarcely attending to its quieter corners. In retirement, its possibility 93 00:05:55.000 --> 00:05:59.199 re emerged. Riverside Library was something of a local legend, 94 00:05:59.560 --> 00:06:01.800 a chunk of art nouveau set down at a bend 95 00:06:01.879 --> 00:06:05.199 in the wide brown river. Every corner, rimmed with carved 96 00:06:05.240 --> 00:06:09.759 limestone and window bays like tower battlements. On the street side, 97 00:06:09.959 --> 00:06:13.079 children's bicycle racks and a permanent pop up poetry cart 98 00:06:13.160 --> 00:06:16.759 greeted you. The inside was just as lovingly odd, a 99 00:06:16.800 --> 00:06:20.600 three story corps that seemed whichever staircase you climbed to 100 00:06:20.639 --> 00:06:23.519 shift its lines and paths, as if the rooms had 101 00:06:23.519 --> 00:06:27.040 once belonged to a larger building now lost. There was 102 00:06:27.079 --> 00:06:30.600 a rumor about the architect, a six generation immigrant with 103 00:06:30.680 --> 00:06:34.600 a fondness for mazes, who supposedly left a deliberate puzzle 104 00:06:34.839 --> 00:06:38.439 in the planning. The floor plan, I am sure, never 105 00:06:38.519 --> 00:06:42.279 repeated itself for me in any two visits, even after months, 106 00:06:42.439 --> 00:06:45.399 a short cut through the magazine reading room might exit 107 00:06:45.480 --> 00:06:50.120 into a completely unexpected corridor. The river audibly pressed the 108 00:06:50.120 --> 00:06:54.160 building's western wall, lending a faint percussive thrum through the 109 00:06:54.199 --> 00:06:57.759 reading nooks and study carols. It was less intrusive than 110 00:06:57.800 --> 00:07:01.519 you'd think, a background music that blended seamlessly with the 111 00:07:01.600 --> 00:07:07.920 soft page turns and occasional child's giggle. There was life everywhere. Weekday, 112 00:07:07.959 --> 00:07:12.079 story hours swarmed with children, the librarians steering chaos with 113 00:07:12.160 --> 00:07:16.879 practiced grace. Teenagers camped at the charging stations debated moral 114 00:07:16.920 --> 00:07:21.439 philosophy or baseball. And a silent battalion of regulars mainly 115 00:07:21.519 --> 00:07:25.120 reat her ease, who occupied certain armchairs with chessboards and 116 00:07:25.160 --> 00:07:28.160 cross words, or simply watched the movement of people with 117 00:07:28.240 --> 00:07:32.360 something like reverence. Among the staff Sarah stood out for 118 00:07:32.399 --> 00:07:36.560 her rigorous devotion to order, hair always in place, hands competent, 119 00:07:36.839 --> 00:07:39.160 her mind mapped to every inch of the catalog and 120 00:07:39.240 --> 00:07:42.879 shelving conventions. She was as likely to quote winter closing 121 00:07:42.920 --> 00:07:45.519 times as to recommend a new release. But there was 122 00:07:45.600 --> 00:07:49.600 warmth beneath the briskness. She remembered names, quirks, and the 123 00:07:49.639 --> 00:07:54.600 favored authors of her regulars. In contrast, the night shift librarian, 124 00:07:54.839 --> 00:07:59.079 mister Danvers, was a quieter presence, always in a brown 125 00:07:59.199 --> 00:08:03.759 corduroy jacket, often at the farthest desk, rarely initiating conversation, 126 00:08:04.160 --> 00:08:08.480 but unfailingly kind when approached. Old timers insisted he'd once 127 00:08:08.519 --> 00:08:11.240 been the backbone of the library, a keeper of keys 128 00:08:11.279 --> 00:08:14.879 and walking encyclopedia. I had assumed him to be mostly 129 00:08:14.920 --> 00:08:18.360 myth until I first glimpsed him, head bent in concentration, 130 00:08:18.759 --> 00:08:22.600 as if listening for secrets only books would tell. The 131 00:08:22.600 --> 00:08:26.040 building preserved its own history gently. The tile at the 132 00:08:26.040 --> 00:08:29.120 main entrance had been scuffed and replaced so often. There 133 00:08:29.120 --> 00:08:32.960 were patches of three distinct eras, like tree rings, a 134 00:08:33.039 --> 00:08:36.320 mural in the east stairwell, a riot of color and shapes, 135 00:08:36.679 --> 00:08:41.320 bore signatures that climbed and layered in the paint students, artists, 136 00:08:41.440 --> 00:08:45.720 librarians lost and found over a century of use. Even 137 00:08:45.759 --> 00:08:50.519 the books themselves felt storied. So many bore inscriptions, pressed flowers, 138 00:08:50.720 --> 00:08:54.000 A trembling to Emma with all My Love nineteen fifty 139 00:08:54.039 --> 00:08:57.399 seven in Blue Ink. I found a sort of solace 140 00:08:57.399 --> 00:09:00.840 in those layers, as if the library assembled not just books, 141 00:09:01.000 --> 00:09:05.600 but little eddies of community geologic in their patients. The 142 00:09:05.600 --> 00:09:08.759 so called memory table, as I started thinking of it, 143 00:09:08.840 --> 00:09:12.320 seemed an unassuming node within this larger system, A disc 144 00:09:12.440 --> 00:09:16.200 shaped stretch of mahogany that newcomers often brushed past, but 145 00:09:16.240 --> 00:09:20.679 which on careful watch never completely emptied. Staff would pass, 146 00:09:20.960 --> 00:09:23.799 pausing to rearrange a tipt over a volume or replace 147 00:09:23.840 --> 00:09:27.639 a book with a new seasonal title. Passers by slowed, 148 00:09:28.039 --> 00:09:32.960 occasionally selecting a paperback skimming. It wasn't as well trafficked 149 00:09:32.960 --> 00:09:36.360 as the children's section or the genre displays, yet it 150 00:09:36.399 --> 00:09:40.399 carried a peculiar gravity. In time, it began to seem 151 00:09:40.480 --> 00:09:43.519 less a piece of furniture and more an aperture, a 152 00:09:43.559 --> 00:09:47.120 place both welcoming and faintly guarded, as if one could 153 00:09:47.159 --> 00:09:51.639 cross a threshold without fully realizing it. It surprised me 154 00:09:51.679 --> 00:09:54.960 how quickly returning to the library became a ritual. The 155 00:09:55.039 --> 00:09:58.519 third time I visited, I followed my own silent custom, 156 00:09:58.840 --> 00:10:01.840 wandering the upper floor before heading to the new releases. 157 00:10:02.440 --> 00:10:06.159 I found myself, yet again approaching the sunlit alcove with 158 00:10:06.200 --> 00:10:10.559 the memory table, not entirely intending to more following a current, 159 00:10:11.200 --> 00:10:15.360 This time I paused mid step. There, perched between a 160 00:10:15.360 --> 00:10:19.480 battered copy of The Railway Children and a slim, unfamiliar novella. 161 00:10:19.799 --> 00:10:24.159 Something jutted at a precise diagonal the spine's cloth was worn. 162 00:10:24.480 --> 00:10:28.440 The title, a musted yellow block print across navy, sent 163 00:10:28.519 --> 00:10:32.120 a small shock through my system. The brass button mystery. 164 00:10:33.159 --> 00:10:36.360 I had not thought of that book in years, no decades. 165 00:10:36.639 --> 00:10:39.000 I'd owned a copy as a child, picked from a 166 00:10:39.080 --> 00:10:42.200 jumble sale, and devoured it in one feverish sitting during 167 00:10:42.200 --> 00:10:45.720 about of flu It never ascended to canonical status, but 168 00:10:45.759 --> 00:10:48.919 it haunted my dreams A few times over the years. 169 00:10:49.159 --> 00:10:52.559 I'd looked for it in used book stores and bibliographic databases, 170 00:10:52.879 --> 00:10:55.399 discovering it had been out of print since the sixties. 171 00:10:55.919 --> 00:10:59.399 The few references online described it as lost to time, 172 00:10:59.759 --> 00:11:04.279 with variations in even the basic plot. Yet here it was. 173 00:11:05.200 --> 00:11:08.159 Without thinking, I slipped the book from its place. The 174 00:11:08.200 --> 00:11:12.000 cover illustration, a boy with a lantern the suggestion of fog, 175 00:11:12.320 --> 00:11:15.279 seemed just as I remembered, But examining the back, a 176 00:11:15.279 --> 00:11:18.440 few things jarred. The publisher's address was not the one 177 00:11:18.480 --> 00:11:23.120 I recalled San Carlos, California, instead of Dayton, Ohio, and 178 00:11:23.159 --> 00:11:26.440 the illustration style on the title page was subtly different. 179 00:11:26.919 --> 00:11:29.440 The corner where a cat once crouched was now home 180 00:11:29.519 --> 00:11:33.600 to what looked like a small dog. Most unsettlingly, the 181 00:11:33.679 --> 00:11:37.960 dedication inside for g R and All Rainy Days was 182 00:11:38.000 --> 00:11:42.200 precisely what I remembered reading the words I'd unconsciously committed 183 00:11:42.200 --> 00:11:46.039 to memory and recited to myself in childhood, comforting as 184 00:11:46.080 --> 00:11:50.399 a lullaby. Sarah appeared tidying up a stack of graphic 185 00:11:50.440 --> 00:11:53.879 novels from the cart. Surprised to see this one here, 186 00:11:54.200 --> 00:11:58.679 I said, waving the battered volume. She barely broke stride, 187 00:11:58.840 --> 00:12:02.360 glancing briefly. It's one of those old chestnuts, isn't it. 188 00:12:02.720 --> 00:12:05.720 We rotate the classics through this spot. The things the 189 00:12:05.799 --> 00:12:09.360 kids ask for That table s had the same display 190 00:12:09.440 --> 00:12:12.600 for weeks now. I returned the book to its place, 191 00:12:12.799 --> 00:12:15.919 suppressing the urge to press further. Hadn't I visited just 192 00:12:16.000 --> 00:12:19.120 days ago and found a different crop entirely? I looked 193 00:12:19.159 --> 00:12:22.320 up as a college aged patron shuffled closer, searching with 194 00:12:22.360 --> 00:12:24.519 the casual competence of some one who grew up in 195 00:12:24.559 --> 00:12:28.559 reader's advisory. They grinned, spun one paper back to the side, 196 00:12:28.879 --> 00:12:31.759 and remarked, Oh, hey, it's all the stuff from when 197 00:12:31.759 --> 00:12:34.960 I was a kid that they pointed used to be 198 00:12:35.039 --> 00:12:37.679 my favorite. My best friend and I used to race 199 00:12:37.720 --> 00:12:41.600 to see who'd check it out first. But their favorite 200 00:12:41.759 --> 00:12:44.759 was a luridly covered volume I'd never heard of. It 201 00:12:44.840 --> 00:12:48.759 bore a giant atom and comic speech bubbles far afield 202 00:12:48.799 --> 00:12:53.440 from the understated titles I'd just seen. Believing momentarily that 203 00:12:53.519 --> 00:12:57.799 perhaps the arrangements somehow catered to different generations, I stooped 204 00:12:57.840 --> 00:13:02.080 lower for another look. Now, right before my eyes, some 205 00:13:02.159 --> 00:13:04.480 of the books I had seen just seconds earlier were 206 00:13:04.519 --> 00:13:08.240 gone or obscured, the gaps filled with more modern, less 207 00:13:08.279 --> 00:13:13.720 idiosyncratic fare, a couple of Ya novels, a cartoon bright anthology. 208 00:13:14.720 --> 00:13:17.919 Had my recollections slipped? Or was this table a rapidly 209 00:13:18.039 --> 00:13:23.559 rotating chameleon display relying on some librarians offbeat whimsy? I 210 00:13:23.559 --> 00:13:27.360 shook off the confusion. Clearly the peculiar overlap was trick 211 00:13:27.399 --> 00:13:31.399 of memory or perception. But I left less satisfied than before, 212 00:13:31.799 --> 00:13:36.080 a small stone of uneasiness settling under my ribs. On 213 00:13:36.120 --> 00:13:40.519 the walk home, Questions arrayed in quiet, persistent formation. What 214 00:13:40.639 --> 00:13:45.159 precisely was happening? Were staff continually swapping out books? Why 215 00:13:45.159 --> 00:13:48.879 did my own recollections differ so stridently from others? And 216 00:13:48.960 --> 00:13:52.639 most unnerving, why did both the librarian and the student 217 00:13:52.960 --> 00:13:57.559 see their own experiences reflected where mine diverged. By the 218 00:13:57.600 --> 00:14:01.559 next visit, a week punctuated by and an argument over 219 00:14:01.639 --> 00:14:05.080 scones with my coffee group, I entered the building with purpose. 220 00:14:05.639 --> 00:14:08.720 There was an itch, a low grade tension that only 221 00:14:08.759 --> 00:14:12.879 renewed observation would scratch. I kept pen and paper ready 222 00:14:12.879 --> 00:14:16.080 in a jacket pocket, intending to record all the table's 223 00:14:16.120 --> 00:14:19.480 contents immediately on each visit. If my mind could not 224 00:14:19.559 --> 00:14:24.080 be trusted, paper just might. My first attempt was methodical. 225 00:14:24.600 --> 00:14:26.960 After a circuit of the first floor, I climbed to 226 00:14:27.000 --> 00:14:30.279 the second, pausing at the alcove. This time, I drew 227 00:14:30.320 --> 00:14:33.960 a quick diagram, counted spines, mapped their colors by a 228 00:14:34.000 --> 00:14:37.279 simple code alf for red, bee for blue, et cetera. 229 00:14:37.559 --> 00:14:40.840 Jotted down as many visible titles as I could. I 230 00:14:40.879 --> 00:14:44.000 even sketched the cover of a particular favorite, the door 231 00:14:44.039 --> 00:14:47.679 in the lake, noting the sunbeam falling across its foil block. 232 00:14:48.679 --> 00:14:51.720 The next day, I returned close to closing time, just 233 00:14:51.879 --> 00:14:54.960 enough light leaking in for reading. To my mild horror, 234 00:14:55.120 --> 00:14:59.799 my diagram almost instantly failed me. The table's composition had changed. 235 00:15:00.360 --> 00:15:03.399 Some titles I had marked the whistler in the woods, 236 00:15:03.559 --> 00:15:07.080 Jack and the fire bird remained, but others were replaced 237 00:15:07.120 --> 00:15:13.200 by vaguely familiar alternatives or vanished entirely. Yet the overall esthetic, 238 00:15:13.519 --> 00:15:17.879 the emotional flavor, was uncannily consistent. It was as if 239 00:15:17.879 --> 00:15:21.039 the table functioned more as a mood board of longing 240 00:15:21.120 --> 00:15:25.840 than a fixed inventory. Three visits in I escalated my approach. 241 00:15:26.360 --> 00:15:29.279 I decided as a test to concentrate in the day's 242 00:15:29.279 --> 00:15:32.879 prior on a fragmentary, perhaps imaginary book from my childhood, 243 00:15:33.240 --> 00:15:38.120 The imaginary Orchard, I could recall with unusual clarity, sitting 244 00:15:38.159 --> 00:15:41.200 on a threadbare couch beside my mother as she conjured 245 00:15:41.240 --> 00:15:44.480 wild stories before sleep. There was an orchard full of 246 00:15:44.559 --> 00:15:48.879 walking trees and a love story involving a fox. I 247 00:15:49.000 --> 00:15:52.440 had over the years come to doubt the actual existence 248 00:15:52.440 --> 00:15:56.519 of the book. Wasn't it a maternal improvisation or perhaps 249 00:15:56.559 --> 00:16:00.679 a dream? That Friday, mug of coffee in trembling hand, 250 00:16:00.919 --> 00:16:04.039 I rounded the staircase. My heart thudded as I caught 251 00:16:04.080 --> 00:16:06.720 sight of a slender volume resting directly in the center. 252 00:16:07.120 --> 00:16:11.399 The imagination orchard, the artwork, the arched apple trees, the 253 00:16:11.440 --> 00:16:15.080 amber furred fox, almost exactly matched the image that lived 254 00:16:15.320 --> 00:16:18.480 indistinct and Sepia toned in the back rooms of my head. 255 00:16:19.120 --> 00:16:21.240 The text on the cover was not quite as I'd 256 00:16:21.240 --> 00:16:25.679 have expected. Imagination, not imaginary, but close enough to prickle 257 00:16:25.720 --> 00:16:29.120 every nerve in my body. I set down my coffee 258 00:16:29.120 --> 00:16:33.039 with shaking hands, and after a deep, grounding breath, removed 259 00:16:33.080 --> 00:16:37.080 my phone for a discreet photograph. The screen, however, displayed 260 00:16:37.080 --> 00:16:40.320 something else. The image that appeared was a random volume 261 00:16:40.360 --> 00:16:43.799 of Summer Story Collections, with a different design and bland, 262 00:16:44.080 --> 00:16:50.200 unremarkable cover. Frustrated, I tried again. The results remained the same, generic, 263 00:16:50.360 --> 00:16:54.559 not unsettling. I cast about for an ally. Surely if 264 00:16:54.600 --> 00:16:57.279 I asked someone to read the title aloud, they would 265 00:16:57.279 --> 00:17:00.440 see the magic or the trick. A couple discussing the 266 00:17:00.480 --> 00:17:05.319 new releases strolled by. Excuse me, I asked, gently, holding 267 00:17:05.359 --> 00:17:08.240 out the book. Would you mind telling me what this says? 268 00:17:09.359 --> 00:17:12.000 They peered at the book's front, squinting at the print 269 00:17:12.559 --> 00:17:16.480 Summer Story Collections, The man said, brightly, handing it back, 270 00:17:17.000 --> 00:17:21.039 good pick for rainy weather. Actually, his partner nodded, already 271 00:17:21.079 --> 00:17:25.440 distracted another visitor, a much younger woman with a stack 272 00:17:25.519 --> 00:17:29.720 of text books, glanced over my shoulder. That table always 273 00:17:29.720 --> 00:17:32.799 has the best sellers. They swap them out every week, 274 00:17:33.160 --> 00:17:37.759 she chimed in, before drifting away, returning the book as 275 00:17:37.759 --> 00:17:40.759 it seemed pointless to pursue further. I wandered to the 276 00:17:40.799 --> 00:17:44.799 help desk. Any idea how the table is curated? Are 277 00:17:44.880 --> 00:17:51.039 certain authors cycled on certain days? Sarah flashed her patient smile. Oh, 278 00:17:51.119 --> 00:17:54.640 we have a list for themes, holidays, best sellers, things 279 00:17:54.640 --> 00:17:57.160 in the news. I think this month was supposed to 280 00:17:57.200 --> 00:18:00.359 focus on back to school and classics. I believe I 281 00:18:00.440 --> 00:18:04.079 swapped those books yesterday morning. Actually, are you looking for 282 00:18:04.119 --> 00:18:07.559 a specific title? I can check the latest order forms 283 00:18:07.599 --> 00:18:11.359 if you like. I shook my head. No, it's more 284 00:18:11.359 --> 00:18:15.119 a curiosity. Sometimes I think I see things there that well, 285 00:18:15.240 --> 00:18:20.160 never mind, she laughed, not unkindly. You be surprised how 286 00:18:20.279 --> 00:18:24.400 much nostalgia comes up here. Memory does funny things. Maybe 287 00:18:24.440 --> 00:18:28.000 you're just seeing what you want to see. Perhaps, but 288 00:18:28.079 --> 00:18:31.400 my curiosity, newly honed, would not allow the matter to rest. 289 00:18:31.960 --> 00:18:35.759 Each new attempt, each visit resulted in more evidence, yet 290 00:18:35.839 --> 00:18:40.160 less certainty. My scribbled diagrams sometimes matched the table's composition, 291 00:18:40.559 --> 00:18:43.759 but often diverged. In one odd instance, I was sure 292 00:18:43.799 --> 00:18:47.200 I'd seen a green bound book titled Wonder's Gait, only 293 00:18:47.240 --> 00:18:49.960 to return and find it replaced by a beige copy 294 00:18:50.000 --> 00:18:52.839 of Stories for Rainy Days, which did not appear in 295 00:18:52.920 --> 00:18:58.759 any library database. Other times, visitors, when asked, described different 296 00:18:58.799 --> 00:19:02.240 books entirely. One mother ticked off titles from her own 297 00:19:02.319 --> 00:19:05.880 childhood in another country. I swear, it's always Russian fairy 298 00:19:06.000 --> 00:19:09.799 tales on that side, while a ritaie insisted the table 299 00:19:09.880 --> 00:19:13.480 featured only local writers. It's our way of staying close 300 00:19:13.519 --> 00:19:17.759 to home here. Trying to catalog the phenomenon, I flipped 301 00:19:17.799 --> 00:19:22.799 through the online database for any record of imagination orchard. Nothing. 302 00:19:23.359 --> 00:19:26.440 No author by that name, no holdings in the system, 303 00:19:26.799 --> 00:19:31.400 no reference in publisher, index or aggregator. I pressed one 304 00:19:31.440 --> 00:19:35.880 step further, Now, genuinely uneasy both with the instability of 305 00:19:35.920 --> 00:19:39.359 memory and my own growing obsession, I brought a digital 306 00:19:39.400 --> 00:19:42.599 note pad, entered as much as I could after each visit, 307 00:19:43.000 --> 00:19:47.319 and started to compare dates, times, and even the weather outside, 308 00:19:47.359 --> 00:19:51.799 wanting to believe that some mundane variable dictated the changing selection. 309 00:19:52.920 --> 00:19:55.119 Yet the harder I tried to prove a pattern, the 310 00:19:55.200 --> 00:19:58.359 more apparent it was that evidence only fragmented rather than 311 00:19:58.359 --> 00:20:01.960 clarified the puzzle. By now I was sketching mini vignettes 312 00:20:02.000 --> 00:20:06.319 after each trip, color, texture, even layout. The records made 313 00:20:06.359 --> 00:20:10.599 less sense when reviewed. Sometimes what I'd written seemed implausible. 314 00:20:11.039 --> 00:20:15.079 Occasionally my sketches looked like fever dreams, unfamiliar, as if 315 00:20:15.200 --> 00:20:18.920 drawn by a stranger. Once a note in my own 316 00:20:18.960 --> 00:20:23.279 handwriting read remember ask about the tree book, yet I'd 317 00:20:23.279 --> 00:20:27.160 no memory of writing it. When friends or fellow patrons 318 00:20:27.200 --> 00:20:30.319 were included in my queries, the range of responses grew. 319 00:20:30.640 --> 00:20:33.559 Some met me with teasing or blankness. That table just 320 00:20:33.559 --> 00:20:37.519 as whatever's knew, don't overthink it. Others seemed genuinely confused, 321 00:20:37.799 --> 00:20:42.039 recalling entirely different displays. One regular told me it always 322 00:20:42.039 --> 00:20:45.440 matches my mood. I can't explain it, while a graying 323 00:20:45.480 --> 00:20:48.839 professor whom i'd known in passing for years confessed the 324 00:20:48.880 --> 00:20:51.920 table used to show titles from my mother's youth, but 325 00:20:52.000 --> 00:20:57.519 now it's just award winners. The librarian staff's responses remained fixed. 326 00:20:57.920 --> 00:21:02.000 We change it monthly, or just the usual favorites, or 327 00:21:02.079 --> 00:21:06.160 your probably overworking your memory from your teaching days. Each 328 00:21:06.319 --> 00:21:09.720 gentle dismissal should have closed the matter. Yet the questions 329 00:21:09.759 --> 00:21:15.000 refused to resolve into any clean end. My mind, always analytical, 330 00:21:15.279 --> 00:21:19.000 began to toy with more outlandish possibilities that the table, 331 00:21:19.319 --> 00:21:22.680 far from being a mundane display, was responding in some 332 00:21:22.799 --> 00:21:26.119 fashion to individual memory, a mirror or echo of the 333 00:21:26.160 --> 00:21:29.759 mind that observed it. Most likely, I mused, this was 334 00:21:29.799 --> 00:21:34.599 a parlor trick of psychology, priming confirmation bias. The lulling 335 00:21:34.720 --> 00:21:39.400 sameness of our internal narratives projected onto chaos, but doubts 336 00:21:39.400 --> 00:21:44.240 steadily complicated wonder and then fascination, I found. I approached 337 00:21:44.279 --> 00:21:47.920 each library visit not for books nor relaxation, but to 338 00:21:47.960 --> 00:21:52.920 attend this quietly bewildering threshold. The table and whatever mechanism 339 00:21:53.039 --> 00:21:56.319 lay beneath its shifting face, had become the central drama 340 00:21:56.440 --> 00:21:59.880 of my post career life, a puzzle whose solution seemed 341 00:22:00.039 --> 00:22:03.519 less urgent than the simple pleasure of not knowing. Not yet. 342 00:22:04.559 --> 00:22:08.519 One raw evening, chance and insomnia collided, I found myself 343 00:22:08.599 --> 00:22:11.839 drifting into the library's late night hours. Perhaps I told 344 00:22:11.839 --> 00:22:14.400 myself for the peace, or for some answer, only the 345 00:22:14.519 --> 00:22:18.319 dark might yield. The upper floors were almost deserted, The 346 00:22:18.440 --> 00:22:23.160 river's song pressed louder than before. There shelving periodicals under 347 00:22:23.200 --> 00:22:28.279 dim desk lamps. Stood mister Danvers. I hesitated, then approached, 348 00:22:28.559 --> 00:22:31.759 voice husked with apology. You must be the keeper of 349 00:22:31.799 --> 00:22:36.759 the late shift, I offered. He smiled, kind, creased, deliberate. 350 00:22:37.240 --> 00:22:41.440 That's me. Night is more forgiving truth be told. I 351 00:22:41.480 --> 00:22:43.920 wonder if I could ask about the second floor table, 352 00:22:44.200 --> 00:22:47.359 I said, struggling to frame my years of uncertainty in 353 00:22:47.400 --> 00:22:51.119 one sentence, the one by the window. The display seems 354 00:22:51.160 --> 00:22:56.240 to change a little each visit, sometimes unpredictably. I waited 355 00:22:56.279 --> 00:23:01.880 for the soft deflection, the librarian's gentle rationalism. To my surprise, 356 00:23:02.279 --> 00:23:07.119 mister Danvers listened. Hans paused mid magazine, his eyes attentive, 357 00:23:07.319 --> 00:23:09.839 as if I'd reminded him of something he'd long ago 358 00:23:10.079 --> 00:23:14.200 set aside. He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice 359 00:23:14.200 --> 00:23:17.720 as if discussing a private family secret. It's not just you, 360 00:23:17.720 --> 00:23:20.920 you know. People see different things on that table, always have, 361 00:23:21.319 --> 00:23:24.440 he said, long before I started. The story was the same. 362 00:23:24.920 --> 00:23:27.519 New folks come through, or old timers come back, and 363 00:23:27.599 --> 00:23:30.039 they see their childhood or the thing they've been missing, 364 00:23:30.519 --> 00:23:33.960 he laughed softly. I tried to standardize it once when 365 00:23:34.000 --> 00:23:36.400 I was fresh out of library school set up a 366 00:23:36.440 --> 00:23:41.119 fixed display, color coded lists the works, but it always shifted, 367 00:23:41.519 --> 00:23:45.480 sometimes overnight, sometimes after just a cup of tea. I 368 00:23:45.559 --> 00:23:49.880 started questioning myself. Then I just stopped. It was as 369 00:23:49.920 --> 00:23:52.200 if someone had switched on a light in my chest. 370 00:23:52.799 --> 00:23:56.920 The relief, the absurd joy of not being alone in bewilderment, 371 00:23:57.240 --> 00:24:00.880 was its own sort of answer. What do you think's happening? 372 00:24:01.160 --> 00:24:04.559 I asked. He tapped the edge of the closest shelf, 373 00:24:04.640 --> 00:24:07.920 thinking maybe it's not about the books. Maybe it's us 374 00:24:07.960 --> 00:24:11.000 that change, or maybe he looked out at the river, 375 00:24:11.119 --> 00:24:14.880 glimmered dusk, voice rough with memory. Memory is more like 376 00:24:14.880 --> 00:24:18.359 a room than a photograph, not fixed, not quite mine 377 00:24:18.440 --> 00:24:21.519 or yours. Some spaces invite us to notice what we 378 00:24:21.599 --> 00:24:27.000 thought we'd forgotten. The silence that followed felt companionable, not heavy. 379 00:24:27.680 --> 00:24:30.640 You think the building or the table is doing something 380 00:24:30.680 --> 00:24:36.200 to us, not doing exactly more participating. He straightened a 381 00:24:36.240 --> 00:24:39.279 pile of pamphlets, as if giving himself time to find 382 00:24:39.319 --> 00:24:43.440 the next careful words. Libraries have always been more than shelves. 383 00:24:43.920 --> 00:24:46.519 Maybe here in the bend of the river, among enough 384 00:24:46.559 --> 00:24:50.079 people returning again and again, there's a current We ride 385 00:24:50.119 --> 00:24:54.079 without knowing the sense of being at a threshold shifted. 386 00:24:54.519 --> 00:24:57.880 Instead of seeking simply to explain away the anomaly, I 387 00:24:57.960 --> 00:25:01.799 found my intentions subtly rear lining. Maybe it was not 388 00:25:01.880 --> 00:25:05.359 a trick to be solved, but a demonstration of perception, 389 00:25:05.599 --> 00:25:09.359 of connection, of the peculiar dance between place and memory. 390 00:25:10.400 --> 00:25:12.759 I left the library that night with a new clarity. 391 00:25:13.359 --> 00:25:16.160 I resolved not solely to fixate on the display table, 392 00:25:16.480 --> 00:25:20.160 but to widen the lens to observe how memory, community 393 00:25:20.400 --> 00:25:24.400 and place interwove behind every scuffed tile and muted inscription. 394 00:25:25.200 --> 00:25:28.559 Perhaps I thought the quietly miraculous thing was not that 395 00:25:28.599 --> 00:25:32.079 the table existed, but that every person passing through could 396 00:25:32.119 --> 00:25:36.720 find within these walls some small echo of themselves. For 397 00:25:36.799 --> 00:25:40.240 several days after my conversation with mister Danvers, I moved 398 00:25:40.240 --> 00:25:43.039 through the Riverside Library with the sense that I'd stumbled 399 00:25:43.079 --> 00:25:45.160 behind the scenes of a play I had watched my 400 00:25:45.240 --> 00:25:50.160 whole life, never understanding there were ropes and lights, quiet improvisations, 401 00:25:50.480 --> 00:25:54.279