Free Dear Evie: The Lost Memories of a Lost Child by P.J. Rhea

was enjoying the tour and the history lesson very much, but realized I had a job to do, and so I brought myself back to the purpose of my visit. If I had not been on a mission, I think I would have enjoyed just choosing a book and sitting in one of those marvelous rooms, letting my mind wander on what might have taken place there.
     
    I wondered if the librarian might relate to the little girl in many ways. She was the perfect model of the “old maid” librarian from the movies: tall and thin with gray hair pulled back in a bun at the base of her neck. She probably wasn’t more than fifty years old, but her dress and demeanor made her appear much older. She wore a sweater over her shoulders despite the warm temperature outside. I suppose the air conditioner made her chilly, but to me the library was pleasant. She also wore glasses that rested at the very tip of her nose and the type of shoes older women often wore for support. Every stereotype ever dreamed up for the character of a librarian was played out in this woman. I explained to her my interest in newspapers from 1992, and she pointed up the staircase behind her.
     
    “Go up these stairs to the room at the end of the hall. We go back as far as nineteen hundred. Some of the actual papers are up there but most are on microfilm. If you need to make a copy of anything, we charge a fee of fifty cents per copy. Let me know if I can assist you any further.”
     
    I thanked her and went on my quest. The room was a large one, possibly the master bedroom suite for the couple in the painting. There was a long table the length of the wall, and it was covered with large thick books holding thousands of copies of newspapers. The books seemed to begin with 1900 and went to 1955, but after that most were on microfilm. I was glad because the books were dusty and very heavy and hard to handle. I started with March of 1992 since I had no idea if my arrival in Charlotte had been days or weeks after the fire. My scars covered a large area of my hands, so it could be that they were infected or something and that is why I was transferred to a larger hospital. It was all guess work. I poured through paper after paper. Who would have guessed such a small town would have a daily paper?
     
    As I searched, my eyes began to burn and my head started to throb. I was so hungry, I could hear my stomach rebel more and more as the day wore on. I was at the end of April when I was interrupted by the librarian, who I now knew was Miss Crawford because she had taken several trips upstairs to check on me and was more than a little curious as to what I was looking for. I had even asked her if she remembered a house burning down in 1992 where the parents died and two children survived. She explained that she had only lived in Harmony since 1994 and had no memory of the story. She had moved there to care for an elderly aunt in the final stages of cancer and had just loved the little town so much she stayed.
     
    “My aunt had been the librarian, and so when I applied for the job, it just seemed fitting that the job go to me.”
     
    I think the librarian felt bad that she couldn’t help me solve my mystery.
     
    “Mrs. Hunter, I’m afraid we will be closing in fifteen minutes. You will need to conclude your search for today.”
     
    I was ready to call it a day and accept that I would have to return the next day to continue my search, when on the last page I glanced at I saw the caption, “Couple Dies in House Fire.” It had taken place on April 29, 1992. With the clock ticking, I didn’t take time to make sure it was what I needed, I just printed it off, paid my fifty cents. Then I rushed to my hotel room to examine my prize.
     
The house at 104 Maple Ave. was completely destroyed by fire early this morning. The couple that shared this home perished in the fire while still in their bed. Ralph Dark and Grace Moon were burned beyond recognition before firemen were able to put out the fire. The