No.
I ran the entire library, searching for another way out. A way that apparently didn’t exist. Six doors to the outside and they were all locked. And so there I was—back leaned up against the door to the parking garage, its cold seeping into my skin—stuck in a big empty library, caffeine and anxiety battling it out in my body.
A heart-fluttering panic worked its way up my chest and took my breath away. Calm down. They’ll be back, I told myself. There had just been too many people getting into too many different cars. They all thought I was with someone else. Once the four cars reached the bonfire, someone would notice I wasn’t there and they’d come back.
I calculated the time that would take. Thirty minutes up the canyon, thirty minutes back. I’d be here for an hour. Well, then they’d have to find someone with a key to open this door. But that wouldn’t take much longer. They’d all have phones. They could call the fire department if they had to. Okay, now I was getting dramatic. No emergency departments would have to be called.
My pep talk helped. This was nothing to get worked up about.
I didn’t want to leave my post for fear my friends wouldn’t see me when they came back. Or I wouldn’t see or hear them. But without my phone or my camera I had no way of passing the time. I started humming a song very badly, then laughed at my effort. Maybe I’d just count the holes in the ceiling panels or . . . I looked around and came up empty. How did people pass the time without cell phones?
“. . . skies are blue. Birds fly over the rainbow.” My singing wasn’t going to earn me a record deal anytime soon, but that hadn’t stopped me from belting out a few songs at the top of my lungs. I stopped, my throat raw. It had been at least an hour.
My butt was numb and the chill from the floor had crept up my body, making me shiver. They must turn the heat down on the weekend. I stood and stretched. Maybe this place had a phone somewhere. I hadn’t thought to look until now. I’d never had to look for a phone. I always had my phone with me.
For the seventh time that night I walked back through the glass walkway. Everything was white now. The ground was covered in snow, the trees frosted with it. I wished I had my camera with me to capture the contrast of the scene—the dark lines of the building and trees against the stark whiteness of the snow. I didn’t, so I kept walking.
I started in the entryway, but couldn’t find a phone anywhere. There might have been one in the locked office, but a big desk blocked my view. Even if I could see one, I obviously didn’t have a key. Past a set of double glass doors was where half the books lived. The other half were behind me in the children’s section. It was darker in there, and I lingered by the doors for a while, taking in the space before me. Large, solid shelves filled the center, surrounded by tables and seating areas.
Computers.
Along the side wall were computers. I could send an email or a direct message.
It was even darker once I stepped all the way inside. Some table lamps were spread throughout the area and I reached under the shade of one to see if they were for decoration or if they actually worked. It clicked on with a warm glow. By the time I made it to the computers, I had turned on three lamps. They did little to dispel the darkness in such a large space, but they created a nice ambience. I laughed at myself. An ambience for what? A dance party? A candlelit dinner for one?
I sat down in front of a computer and powered it on. The first screen that lit up in front of me was a prompt to enter the library employee username and password. I groaned. Luck was not on my side tonight at all.
I heard a creaking noise above me and looked up. I don’t know what I thought I’d see, but there was nothing but darkness. The building was old and probably just settling in for the night. Or maybe it was the snow or wind hitting an upper window.
Another noise from above had me walking quickly to the hall. I jogged up the stairs and reached the front door. I pulled on the handles as hard as I could. The doors stayed firmly closed. I looked through the narrow side window. Cars drove by on the main avenue in front, but the sidewalks were empty. No one would hear me if I pounded on the glass. I knew this. I’d tried earlier.
I was fine. There was no one in the library but me. Who else would be dumb enough to get trapped in a library? All by themselves. With no way out. Distraction. I needed a distraction. I had nothing with me, though.
Books! This place was full of books. I would grab a book, find a faraway corner, and read until someone found me. Some might’ve even considered this scenario a dream come true. I could consider it that too. There was power in thoughts. This was my dream come true.
CHAPTER 2