Free Louisiana Saves the Library by Emily Beck Cogburn Page A

Welcome.”
    Louise searched his bland face. If the director remembered her, he gave no sign. She shook his pudgy hand. It felt like sandpaper.
    Sylvia had to bend down to greet her boss. She gave him the full force of her white teeth.
    Mr. Foley’s smile faltered, just for a moment. Louise almost thought she’d imagined it. Everyone liked Sylvia. Even if they didn’t want to.
    â€œWell, I’ll leave Lily to show you around,” he said, ducking into his office.
    â€œWhat a lovely man,” Sylvia said, her voice sweet and sarcastic at the same time.
    Lily turned on a computer with a label machine attached, bending down lower than she really needed to in order to accomplish the task. Louise detected the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth.
    â€œDirect us to our digs, would you?” Sylvia said.
    Lily straightened up. “Of course. There are two empty cubicles. This first one belongs to Matt—he handles the computer system and payroll—and the last one is Hope’s, but y’all can decide who gets the other two.”
    Each cubicle had a window facing the parking lot. Louise was grateful for the view of the outside world, even though there was nothing to see but asphalt, railroad tracks, and the trees beyond.
    â€œI’ll take the one near Hope,” Sylvia said. “I hear she’s very entertaining.”
    â€œAm I?” The librarian appeared behind Lily, demonstrating her eerie sneaking yet again.
    Sylvia extended an elegantly manicured hand to Hope’s rough one. “Sylvia Jones.”
    â€œSo I’ve heard.” Hope pumped Sylvia’s hand. “I’m supposed to teach y’all our computer system. You got a lot of book learning, but you ain’t ever worked in a public library, am I right?”
    â€œNo,” Louise said. “We haven’t. But I’m sure we can learn.”
    â€œI need to get up front in case we have any patrons,” Lily said, backing away. “Good luck, y’all.”
    â€œSet up your stuff and then we’ll go see Mr. Henry,” Hope said.
    Louise went into her carpeted stall and tested her desk chair. Unlike the museum relic in her A&M office, her new chair was less than ten years old and featured black cloth and an adjustable seat. The computer wasn’t much newer than the furniture, though, and it made an ominous cranking noise when she pushed the power button.
    As she sat down on the chair, her foot hit something under the desk. She got down on her knees and pushed the chair out of the way. Stacked up underneath her desk was a trove of outdated equipment: two rotary-dial telephones, a roll-paper fax machine, and a dot matrix printer. Louise put the machines on the desk, one at a time.
    â€œWhere’d you get all that stuff?” Hope asked.
    Louise hefted the fax onto the chair and rolled it toward her. “A time machine from the 1990s.”
    â€œGood Lord.” Hope picked up the machine and examined it. “Let me get a box.”
    Sylvia came out of her cubicle. “Hey, how come she got all the cool stuff?”
    Hope loaded the fax into an empty paper box, stepped into Louise’s cubicle, and piled in the rest of the equipment. “This here’s embarrassing. Mr. Foley done said he got rid of this junk.”
    The back door opened, and the assistant director walked in. “Good morning, ladies.” Though almost six feet tall, Mr. Henry hunched over in a way that made him appear shorter. He seemed to be only in his sixties, but he moved slowly, like a fragile old man.
    â€œI’m just gonna toss this junk in the trash,” Hope said.
    â€œWhere did all that come from?” Mr. Henry asked.
    â€œUnder Ms. Louisiana’s desk.”
    â€œGoodness. Well, it’s parish property. We can’t just throw it away. We have to send it to surplus. I thought Mr. Foley had done that already.”
    Hope lifted the box in her sturdy arms.