mid-slalom. âWhoa! How long have you been standing there?â His voice did not suggest that we were in a library. âWhat can I do you for?â
âWhat happened to Ms. Costello?â
âWell, they say she retired, but if you ask me, I think she ran off with Vincenzo the janitor, because he quit the same day.â He winked. âJust a hypothesis, though.â
âAre you . . . a librarian?â
âSure am. Iâm Eddie.â He reached out over the desk and shook our hands forcefully. âFreshly minted MLIS and at your service.â
âNice tattoo.â Bodhi pointed to the baroque symbol on his wrist.
âThanks!â Eddieâs volume dial seemed stuck at eleven. âThatâs my bandâs logo. We play thrash ska on Tuesday nights at the Snake Pit. Itâs sick! You guys should comeâwait, you arenât twenty-one, are you?â
We shook our heads.
âNever mind. Anyway, what are you guys looking for today?â
âWeâre doing a project,â I said.
âFor school,â chimed in Bodhi.
âYeah, summer school.â I pulled out my notebook. âWe need to get books onâletâs see here . . .â I glanced at Eddie. âYou ready?â
Eddie smiled and positioned his hands at the computer terminal like a virtuoso. âReady.â
âOkay, we need books on the Italian Renaissance in general, probably the Northern Renaissance tooâFlemish, German, Dutch . . .â
â. . . German, Dutch, got it . . .â Eddieâs fingers flew over the keyboard.
âSpecifically books on Raphael, both biographies and monographs. Also books on art fakes and forgeries, stolen art . . .â
Bodhi poked me. âRubbing alcohol.â
âOh yeah, something on, I guess, paint chemistry? Or how paint works? Or dries?â
â. . . Paint chemistry . . .â Eddie repeated and peered into the computer. âOkay. Are you ready for a Dewey decimal avalanche?â He hit print and unleashed a sheaf of paper our way.
âAll righty! Take that, summer school!â Eddie got way more pleasure out of the online catalog than any librarian Iâd ever seen. âYouâll need a shelving cart just to get that to the circulation desk!â
âOh.â Iâd almost forgotten. âBut thereâs one problem . . . Itâs a book. A library book. I canât find it anywhereââ
âGimme your card,â interrupted Eddie.
I placed my library card on the desk and watched him swipe and scroll. âItâs Franny and Zooey . I know I had it, but. Iâve looked and looked . . .â
âWhoa, youâre one of our frequent fliers!â he observed, glancing through my record. âI shouldâve guessed.â
âYes, see, Iâm here all the time. Iâve never had so much as a late feeâwe canât really afford late feesâbut even if we could, Iâm very diligent aboutââ
Eddie jabbed the keyboard commandingly a few times and hit return. âDone. The New York Public Library system has absolved you of your sins.â He made some semi-magical signs in the air.
âThatâs it?â
âThatâs it.â Eddie winked again. âJust make sure these donât go disappearing. Now, whatâs next? Modern animatronics? History of the hot dog?â
âNo, I think weâve got everything.â I started to gather up the stack with its columns of call numbers. âSo, you are sort of a research . . . specialist, right?â
âYou got it. MLIS, Masterâs of Library and Information Scienceâwith an emphasis on information.â
âDo you know anything about military records?â
âNot much myself, but let me introduce you to my dear friend, Google.â Eddie was back at the keyboard again.
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes