I slammed the basement door shut and ran through the library, finishing everything as quickly as I could. I left the light on over the front desk. I’d bought a candy bar during lunch – a Milkyway, if you’re curious – and I left it on the desk. It looked like an offering to something. I couldn’t stop shaking.
I ran out the front door and locked it, checking and rechecking to make sure that I hadn’t made a mistake. I won’t lie, I was relieved after locking it, as though the extra barrier between myself and the basement would save me from… something.
It took me a full ten minutes before I was calm enough to climb into my car and drive to my parents’ house, where my mom and dad had set up my old room for as long as I’d be running the library. Dad was at the hospital with mom, who hadn’t come home yet, so I had the house to myself. I got drunk that night, prying open my dad’s liquor cabinet and drinking whatever I laid my eyes on. I threw on some stupid sitcom and sat in the living room, all the lights on and a blanket drawn around me like a suit of armor.
So ended the absolute worst first day of a job I’d ever had.
That first week was anything but easy.
On Tuesday, I made a kid cry during story-time. On Wednesday, I caught one of the patrons trying to watch porn on the computer. On Thursday, the town pervert came in specifically to harass me, and I had to threaten the police on him when he started bragging about his “massive cock.” On Friday, it rained and the roof leaked, ruining about a dozen good books that would have to be replaced.
The one thing that got easier, at least, was the basement.
At first, I’d been so confused as to why my mother had asked me to do all these strange rituals. It was like she was trying to assuage a spirit or something… the moment that thought occurred to me, I realized what was happening. My mother, you see, is a BIG believer in ghosts. The library has always had its share of bad luck – lights going out on their own, computers crashing, etc.– and she must have started to believe that it had its own little haunting. Perhaps she thought that if she read to it, gave it offerings, things would go smoothly.
After that, my nightly rituals actually became… kind of fun.
