Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
I had a million of them, but I went with, “Where’s my department?”
“The archives are in the basement. Take an elevator down one flight, then follow the signage.”
“Will the person I’m replacing be there to train me?”
A frown line appeared between her brows. “Unfortunately, no. Our last librarian was asked to take an early retirement, but those materials will tell you everything you need to know.” She indicated the binder and tape, which I was clutching to my chest.
I thanked her and hung the lanyard around my neck before wandering off in a daze. My head was spinning from all the information that had been thrown at me over the last hour, and I was more than a little nervous about plunging into the job without any help from my predecessor.
It wasn’t like I’d be on my own, though. My coworkers in the archives should be able to answer my questions and show me the ropes.
That thought gave me a boost of confidence, which dissipated as soon as I got downstairs and walked into the archives. The double doors were propped open with stacks of books, and the seating area to my left was strewn with newspapers. Ahead of me was a long counter, which was covered with unopened mail.
I stepped through a waist-high gate at one end of the counter and flipped some switches on the wall. The archives lit up in sections from front to back, revealing endless rows of tall, wooden shelves. Even though there were no signs of life, I called, “Hello?”
The silence was absolute.
There was no way I alone could be responsible for all of this, right?
The mail had spilled onto the floor behind the counter, so I picked up an envelope from the floor. It was postmarked six weeks ago. That must have been when the last librarian left.
Maybe I really was on my own. Panic started to well up in me, but I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Okay, so I’d have to catch up on six weeks’ worth of work. That wasn’t impossible.
I dug through some drawers and found a hotel-style bell, which I placed front and center on the counter. After adding a note instructing visitors to ring the bell for service, I gathered up the mail and my training materials and wandered into the heart of the archives. It smelled musty, and the fluorescent lighting bathed everything in a harsh, bluish-white light.
Soon, an office appeared on my left. It was big enough to include a seating area and a large desk, but it was so outdated that it reminded me of a museum exhibit from the early 1960s. The one exception was the chunky, yellowish-beige computer. It was probably twenty years old and deserved its own exhibit.
I piled what I’d been carrying onto the cluttered desktop, took off my jacket, and went to hang it up in the closet behind the desk. When I opened the door, a mountain of mail fell forward and scattered across the floor. I leapt back with a surprised yelp.
What the hell!
The postmarks on two unopened envelopes I picked up at random told me they were nearly three years old. I tossed them back onto the floor and muttered, “Nope.”
As I stumbled and slid over the mail on my way to the exit, the landline on the desk began to ring. I hesitated before answering. “Hi there, Andy,” the caller said. “I wanted to check in and see how your first day is going.”
The slightly nasal voice with its strong midwestern accent was instantly recognizable. It was the woman who’d hired me over a phone interview, and her timing was uncanny. “It’s awful, April. I’m sorry to say I won’t be taking this job after all.”
“Oh no! What’s wrong?”
Since I was quitting anyway, I didn’t hold back. “This place is a disaster! I don’t know what on earth my predecessor was doing, but there’s unopened mail dating back at least three years, and mess, and clutter, and do I really not have any coworkers down here? I can’t possibly be expected to train myself, and get all of this in order, and—”
“Take a breath, Andy. Is it really as bad as all that?”
“It’s worse.”
“How about if I send some help your way? It wouldn’t be a trained librarian, but I could find another pair of hands—someone to move stuff around, or sort mail, or do whatever you need.”
“I don’t think I’m the man for this job.”
“I know you are, and I’m never wrong about people.” April sounded confident.
“You didn’t know the archives were this bad though, did you?”
“I knew Wally had been slacking off. That’s the guy who had the job before you, and it’s why he was asked to resign. But you’re right, I didn’t know the extent of it.”
“Well, one person can’t possibly be expected to run a department this big, between fielding calls, and requests for information, and—”