The person who was working in the library before me was a college student named Teddy who did a very good job. That was what Carol said.
“So the bar is pretty high,” she said.
She showed me how to use the Dewey Decimal System, and how to figure out where books go by the numbers and letters on their stickers, and how to use the computer.
I came in twice a week, on Thursdays for four hours, and on Sundays for two hours, but sometimes more if someone was sick. At lunchtime I was allowed to go wherever I wanted in the library to read, as long as I didn’t bug anybody. I could also eat in a room that nobody else was allowed to see, in the back.
One of the most important Rules of the Library is you are not allowed to eat near the books, or drink soda except when your bottle has a cap. All the drinks needed lids.
There were people who always went to the library. Two old men named Tyrone and Mac played chess together in the morning. A woman who smelled bad, with red legs that looked like they had cracking skin, slept in the chair by the window.
A group from the elementary school came in once a week to read books, and on Sundays parents brought their babies to Sunday Bunny Reading Hour. Famous writers also came to read to crowds of people.
The best part of the library was being paid and being able to put money into my bank account, which I had opened in the Bank of America. You can take out money and put the money back into the ATM bank machine as many times as you want.
* * *
Marxy came to visit me at the library on my second day of work, which was a Sunday. He put his arms around me and tried to kiss me on the lips.
“Not while I’m on duty,” I told him.
“Oh,” he said, stepping back. “Sorry.”
“But I’m very happy to see you.”
It is against the rules to kiss at the library. Carol said once she caught two high school kids, a boy and a girl, snogging in the Cooking section, 641.5, which is where International Cookbooks are.
Snogging is a British word for kissing.
She said that sometimes kids from the high school down the street came in and smoked pot in the washroom or snogged inside and that neither was allowed.
“Everyone is very proud of you,” Marxy said. “That you have a job and your own money.” He pulled on his fingers, one at a time. They went pop pop pop. “I miss kissing you.”
Marxy asked me if I was still a Viking.
“Why wouldn’t I be a Viking?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You are a librarian now. And I haven’t heard you talking about Vikings in a long time.”
“I’m both a Viking and a Librarian,” I said. “Ask me where you can find a type of book.”
And Marxy thought about it and said, “What about comic books?”
Many librarians will try to find comics. But actually the comics in a library are called Graphic Novels and so I knew where in the library to find them. I brought him to 741.5 and showed him all the different comics we had.
“There are also comics over there.” Across the library there were stacks of magazines and newspapers and on spinning racks there were comic books, the newest ones that weren’t made into books yet. They were covered in plastic to make sure they didn’t get ruined.
Carol came over and asked how things were going.
“Good. I am helping this patron find comic books,” I said. “His name is Marxy.”
“I’m her boyfriend,” Marxy said.
“Is that so?” Carol said.
“We will not be snogging while I am on duty,” I told Carol.
She nodded. “I was just about to check on the Cooking section.” She told Marxy it was nice to meet him, and then said there were books to put away by the Children’s Books. “The middle school section,” she added.
“I’m very proud of you,” Marxy said. He reached over and held my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back and told him I had to go back to work.
Pearl came to pick Marxy up a half an hour later. I was trying to show her that I was responsible and heroic and a good girlfriend for Marxy. She said that it was good to see me, and that she thought me working in the library was a good thing.
“Marxy wants to get a job now,” she said while Marxy checked out books with Carol at the front desk. We watched him.
“I think he can do it,” I said.
And then Pearl smiled at me. “I still need those Tupperware containers back,” she said, putting her arm around Marxy, who checked out the comic books and waved to me on the way out.
chapter sixteen
For Vikings, a hólmganga is how people who have conflicts with each other solve problems. They fight according to serious rules and whoever wins the hólmganga wins. It turned out Gert had lied to us and that he actually was kicked out of school. Since Gert couldn’t duel with the school, he had to do a Þing, which is a group of people who decide whether you need to be punished for your crime. Kepple’s Guide to the Vikings says that a group of wise elders would hear about the crime that was committed and would decide what happens.
The Dean would be the wise person who would decide Gert’s fate.
There is also a Viking ritual called járn-burðr or jernbyrd, which means trial by fire. You walk holding something hot from across the room or field to the other side. That is how you prove you are brave and worthy of being forgiven. Inga from Varteig did it to show that her son Håkon Håkonsson should be the king of Norway.
Gert had to do it to prove he should be allowed back in school.
He said he probably wouldn’t get to go back to school, so what was the point. AK47 wanted him to wear his suit to show that he was serious. Gert hated the suit and wouldn’t put it on, so AK47 told him to stop being a baby.
“You think Zelda didn’t have odds to beat when she got the job at the library?”
“That’s totally different,” Gert said.
“Yeah. Totally different as in she’s got more balls than you. So put on the damn suit.”
I said going in the suit and acting sorry, even though he hated doing that, was important.
“This is your trial by fire,” I said. “Where you prove that you are worthy.”
“All right, but don’t expect me to be goddamn Beowulf in there,” Gert said, picking a piece of fluff off his shirt.
* * *
We went to the college, not to the building with the tower, but to an ugly building that looked like a shoebox. Inside the air-conditioning was very intense and too cold and made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
We were going to war. We walked up stairs, down a hallway, to a big room that reminded me of the bank, which had a maze of people standing to get to the front of the line.
“Holy crap,” I said.
“Do we really have to wait in this line?” AK47 asked.
Gert nodded. “We could always not go.”
The woman at the front called out a number and the line moved a little bit.
AK47 punched his arm. “No chance.”
After a while AK47 walked past the line and told a person behind one of the desks that we had an appointment. They talked for a while and then she waved for us to come in.
As we walked by, the people in the line gave us dirty looks. Gert hung his head down and looked embarrassed and I patted him on the back and told him to be strong.