Chapter 21

           TheytakemewiththeAcutessometimes,andsometimestheydon’t.TheytakemeoncewiththemovertothelibraryandIwalkovertothetechnicalsection,standtherelookingatthetitlesofbooksonelectronics,booksIrecognizefromthatyearIwenttocollege;Irememberinsidethebooksarefullofschematicdrawingsandequationsandtheories—hard,sure,safethings.

           Iwanttolookatoneofthebooks,butI’mscaredto.I’mscaredtodoanything.IfeellikeI’mfloatinginthedustyyellowairofthelibrary,halfwaytothebottom,halfwaytothetop.Thestacksofbooksteeteraboveme,crazy,zig-zagging,runningalldifferentanglestooneanother.Oneshelfbendsalittletotheleft,onetotheright.Someofthemareleaningoverme,andIdon’tseehowthebookskeepfromfallingout.Itgoesupandupthisway,clearoutofsight,thericketystacksnailedtogetherwithslatsandtwo-by-fours,proppedupwithpoles,leaningagainstladders,onallsidesofme.IfIpulledonebookout,lordknowswhatawfulthingmightresult.

           Ihearsomebodywalkin,andit’soneoftheblackboysfromourwardandhe’sgotHarding’swifewithhim.They’retalkingandgrinningtoeachotherastheycomeintothelibrary.

           "Seehere,Dale,"theblackboycallsovertoHardingwherehe’sreadingabook,"lookherewhocometovisityou.Itoleheritwun’tvisitin’hoursbutyouknowshejus’sweet-talkmeintobringin’herrightonoverhereanyhow."