Closet Doors

I went into the closet and found some things that I had forgotten.  The Bearcat varsity jacket with the the varsity letter that I had earned for being the baseball team statistician.  Copies of the newsletters that I had done for the paper carriers that I published during a brief stint as the circulation manager for a daily newspaper.  A french beret that I had once worn in a play.  The hatchway leading to the library.  How could I forget that?

I went through the hatch and descended down the seven hundred and seventy-seven steps, coming out to the front lobby of the library.  There at an ornate desk in front of the opening archway sat a wizened old man, dressed in a robe decorated with stars and moons, a long white beard flowing to the floor.  "Master Tom!,"  he exclaimed.  "So good to see you again!"

I thought, again?  And then I remembered.  He was Cornelius Frandor, and he had been the head librarian here for many centuries.  "So, dear Cornelius, is the library open today?"

He looked at me with surprise.  "Why, of course, Master Tom!  For you, it is always open!  And I must say, it is so good to see you again after so many years!"

We bowed deeply to each other and I entered the library.  Literally miles of books, stacked in bookshelves twelve feet high, with ladders to climb to the top stacks.  Countless rows, rows upon rows.  It was hard to know where to begin.

I started with history.  There I read The Rise and Fall of the Pazorian Empire, The Gospel of Christ according to Mary Magdalene, The Wizarding Families of Zanzanzin, and Atlantis Found.

Hours later, I arose and moved to the autobiographies.  There I read I Was Just Goofing so Why Did you All Take It So Seriously by Ayn Rand, Profiles In Service: My Eight Years as President by John F Kennedy, and Exploring Pazoria:The Search for John Rose by Giovanni Rojeci.

Hours, perhaps days had passed, but I was still only hungry and thirsty for more books.  I went to fiction and saw the great collection of George R R Martin's Song of Fire and Ice - all seven books!  Stumbling into the S's, I finally found my own books.  History of the Trap, Terror On Jubilee Island, Random, The Sands of Loren, New Coast Blues.  I remembered that I left History of the Trap at a cliffhanger, and that I wanted to write a sequel to help wrap things up.  So I bid adieu to this wonderful library to make my way back to the closet.

Stepping out of the closet, Alison saw me.  "Tom!  Where have you been?  I've been looking all over for you!"

I realized I must have been gone a very long time. "I'm sorry to disappear for hours.  It's just that I found this, ah..."

"Hours?" she said.  You've been gone fifteen minutes, tops.  I just didn't know where you were."

"Fifteen minutes?  That's all?"  Confused, I decided to bring her into the closet to show her.  But the only thing there that I found that I had discovered from before was the beret.  "Ahh I don't know.  I , uh, guess, I just found this old beret from that play I was in, do you remember?"

"That's right.  Barefoot in the Park, three years ago.  Yes, that's great.  Now I was wondering if you could help me get the kitchen around.  Did you forget that the Becks are coming over tonight?"

"Yes, the Becks.  Of course."   And I remembered.  The tax returns I had left to do at my CPA office, the family responsibilities, the bills to pay.  A millions things, some very good, a few not so good, most just life, came flooding back to me.  And it was the library that was fading away to me.

I look back at these words, and I find it hard to believe that I wrote them.  They seem like wild nonsense.  So I do the only thing that I can think of to do.

I shut the closet door.