Read It and Weep! (11 page)

Chapter 12

The next morning Charlotte stood on the front stoop of the library, shivering a little in the early chill, waiting for it to open. It was a few minutes before ten, the opening hour, but she seemed to be the only person eager to get in. It had been raining when she'd left Aunt Marina's house, so she'd borrowed an umbrella from her. Now, though, the atmosphere was eerily still. The sky had a strange, almost greenish tint to it, and unseasonably warm air had crept in. Where a minute before she'd been clutching her sweatshirt to herself and shivering, she now felt a trickle of sweat dribble down her stomach. Maybe that was nerves, though.

She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket and felt the tin that contained the thirteen pieces of the card. She shuddered with dread. The sooner she got rid of these pieces of card the better.

“Oh, Charlotte, hello, good morning, good morning!” said Mrs. Lazer, limping hurriedly up the steps behind her and jangling her set of keys. “Am I late?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Lazer,” said Charlotte, stepping to the side to let the librarian open up the building. “No, you're not late. I think I'm early. Um, how are you feeling? I heard you had a little accident.”

“Oh, pshhh,” scoffed Mrs. Lazer. “I'm getting better every day. It was just a sprain, and I still have no idea how I managed to step off that stool like that. Heaven knows I've been up and down that step stool hundreds of times before. But I'll be right as rain in another week or two.”

“I'm so glad to hear that,” said Charlotte, and she meant it. “I guess I'm here bright and early.”

“You are, but that's a good thing,” said Mrs. Lazer, still fumbling with the keys. “Although I'll be perfectly honest with you—I don't like the look of that wall of clouds over there.” She pointed.

Charlotte swiveled around to observe the sky over the post office, where Mrs. Lazer had gestured. A huge, black cloud, almost vertical in shape, loomed over the western horizon. It
was
sort of eerie. To the east the sky was cloudless and blue.

“They're predicting high winds and heavy thunderstorms,” continued Mrs. Lazer, banging open the heavy old door with her hip and holding it open for Charlotte to enter. She flicked on the lights from the master switch next to the front door, and the beautiful old library lit up. She made her way toward the reference desk in the children's room and set down her big bag. “If you don't mind, I'm going to keep my weather radio on near my desk.”

“No, that's fine, of course,” said Charlotte. “I'm just here to look for—um—a book.”

“Do you need help finding it?”

“No!” said Charlotte, too quickly. “No, thanks, I'm good. I know which one I want.”

Mrs. Lazer bustled around, picking up books to reshelve and flicking on area lights. Charlotte noticed Mrs. Lazer had a plastic brace on her ankle.

Charlotte headed straight for the shelf labeled
HORROR
. It was in the far area of the stacks, near the west wall. She was relieved to be out of Mrs. Lazer's sight line.

There was the red book, back in its place on the high shelf above her head. Peering around the corner to be sure Mrs. Lazer wasn't looking, she set down her overnight bag, dragged the footstool underneath the shelf with the red book, and stepped onto it. With a shaking hand she pulled the small tin from her pocket and opened it. Then she reached up and took the red book down from the shelf.

The pages seemed to crackle with something akin to static electricity as she slipped the first of the thirteen pieces of the card into the book. Carefully she closed the book and put it away. Her hands were still shaking, and it took several attempts to shove the book back into the space it had occupied on the shelf.

She could hear it start to rain again outside. It seemed to be the loudest rain she'd ever heard. It pattered like drumsticks on a snare drum.

“I think that's hail!” called Mrs. Lazer from across the huge room. Charlotte's view of her was blocked by the shelving, but she guessed they were still the only two in the library.

She climbed down from the stool—carefully—and then walked to the end of the row and stuck her head out. “Yeah, sounds like it,” she called back.

“I think you'd better stay here until this storm passes, honey!” called Mrs. Lazer. “It sounds like a doozy!”

Charlotte nodded and quickly headed back to the place she'd just been. She had to do this fast, in case the power went out. And she had to be brave. For her father's sake. Her father was always at the back of her mind. His safety. His very life.

She began pulling other books off the shelf, books that were in the vicinity of the red one. One by one, from high shelves and low shelves, she selected books and then slipped the pieces of card between the pages. Each time she experienced that same sensation as she opened a book to insert the piece of card—a staticky crackle, like when you pulled two socks apart that had just come out of the dryer. She did this until the pieces were all gone. When she'd finished, she stood, staring at the shelf of books, breathing heavily. She hoped this would work. She hoped that once and for all she had gotten rid of this curse, or whatever it was the card had brought on her.

A new worry struck her. What if someone else checked out a book with one of the thirteen pieces? What if she was passing along bad luck to thirteen new people? She thought of the old movie she'd seen when she was a kid, the one where a sorcerer's broom kept dividing and dividing and as it did, it gained, rather than lost, strength. That movie had totally traumatized her. She'd slept between her parents for a week after watching it.

She stood, looking at the bookshelf, gnawing on her knuckle. Had this been a terrible mistake? She'd reproached Lauren for suggesting they pass the card to a really old person or to a really ill person. What if she'd just passed it to thirteen perfectly healthy members of the reading public? What if—

Her worried thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Lazer calling her name.

“Charlotte! Come quick!”

She could hear the wind howling outside. She grabbed her overnight bag, slung it over her shoulder, scooted out of the stacks, and stopped. Her ears! They hurt! It brought back an awful memory from when she was eight years old—her mom had tried to teach her how to blow up and then tie a balloon when she'd been helping get ready for the twins' fourth birthday party. There'd been one particularly difficult balloon that refused to blow up, and Charlotte had popped her ears trying to blow into it. The memory of that pain came roaring back. Her ears felt the same way they'd felt then. She hunched her shoulders and pressed her ears with the heels of her hands.

“Never mind your ears! The radio is saying tornados might be touching down in our area!” called Mrs. Lazer, who had emerged from behind her desk. “We should go to the basement. Now!”

Charlotte broke into a run and followed Mrs. Lazer, who limped ahead of her, into the small vestibule of the library and toward a side door off the main entrance that she'd noticed a few times but had never opened. Mrs. Lazer unlocked it with shaking hands and held the door for her, flicking on the lights as she did so. Charlotte peered down a narrow flight of stairs leading to the library basement. Mrs. Lazer hustled Charlotte down and then followed her.

Down in the shadowy basement of the library the noise of the weather grew muffled. It smelled musty and damp, like old books. Through a narrow casement window close to the ceiling, Charlotte could see greenish light filtering in from outside.

Mrs. Lazer guided her, with a hand to her back, around bookcases full of books and toward the back of the vast room.

It was hot and stuffy. Charlotte loved the smell of old books, but down here it was overpowering.

“There's an old bathroom through here,” said Mrs. Lazer, gesturing toward a heavy oak door standing slightly ajar. “No windows. I think it's probably the safest place for us.”

They moved into the small bathroom, which contained an old-fashioned toilet—the kind with the tank mounted on the wall above and that you flushed by pulling on a chain. There was also an old-fashioned sink that had separate faucets for hot and cold, but nothing in the middle. The walls seemed to be made of marble or granite, and the floor was patterned with small, old-fashioned tiles.

Mrs. Lazer had brought along her battery-powered, portable radio, but the reception was fuzzy and staticky. Several agitated voices kept coming in and out, talking about high winds and touchdowns and other things Charlotte couldn't make out. “We'll just stay in here until we think the coast is clear,” said Mrs. Lazer.

Charlotte nodded, wondering where her mother and brothers were right now. Their house had a basement. That was good. Were they at home? She hadn't even called to check in this morning before she'd headed from Lauren's house to the library.

There was nowhere to sit except on top of the closed lid of the toilet. Charlotte insisted Mrs. Lazer sit there, and Charlotte slid down the wall next to the sink until she was sitting on the floor.

They heard the roaring wind, which rapidly grew louder and louder like a huge locomotive bearing down on them. The lights went out, plunging them into darkness, but Charlotte was too afraid of what was happening outside to worry about being afraid of the dark. She felt Mrs. Lazer lean forward to clasp her hand and squeeze it. It was a reassuring kind of squeeze. She was glad Mrs. Lazer was there with her. But her mouth went dry from terror and every muscle in her body tensed. The roaring became so loud it was almost unbearable. Had Charlotte chosen to scream at the top of her lungs, Mrs. Lazer probably wouldn't have heard it, the roaring was that loud. With her back to the wall, Charlotte could feel the very building shaking and quivering. She thought again about her family and prayed that they were all right.

How much time elapsed while the roaring and the popping and the shaking of the entire building continued? It felt like half an hour. It was probably about a minute. But then everything went still. The roaring stopped almost as suddenly as it had started.

Charlotte realized she'd had her eyes squeezed tightly closed the whole time. Now she opened them. She couldn't see anything in the darkness, but a lighter patch of gray appeared, and she realized Mrs. Lazer had opened the bathroom door.

“Are you all right, sweetie?” she asked. She sounded out of breath, as though she'd just finished a race.

“Um, yes, fine,” Charlotte replied in a high, tremulous voice.

“Watch your step now. It looks like some books have fallen down from their shelves.”

They made their way through the dim basement. It was hard to see with the lights out, but now a somewhat brighter light filtered in through the small windows close to the ceiling. Charlotte was relieved to find that, at least on this side of the room, none of the windows were broken.

Mrs. Lazer led the way up the stairs, with Charlotte following cautiously behind.

The small entryway seemed fine. A picture had fallen off the wall but hadn't broken. Through the door leading into the library, Charlotte could see that the library seemed okay too. A few books were on the floor.
Maybe,
she thought with relief,
it hadn't been an actual tornado. Maybe it hadn't—

Then they stepped inside and saw the whole room.

Charlotte's jaw dropped open. Next to her, Mrs. Lazer seemed unable to speak, any more than Charlotte could.

Along the west side of the library, toward the back, an entire section of wall was missing. Beyond the piles of rubble, dust, and books Charlotte could see green grass and bright sky, a bit of parking lot, and broken fence.

Piles of books had been thrown off their shelves and lay in haphazard heaps. One of the shelves had tipped on its side, spewing books onto the floor and against the shelf next to it. And one whole section of shelves was missing altogether. It had simply vanished.

“Look,” breathed Mrs. Lazer, who seemed to have found her voice at last. “The horror section has blown clean away. Weren't you standing right there when the storm hit?” She clutched Charlotte's arm. “To think what might have happened.” She shook her head in disbelief.

Charlotte looked. It was true. Where she had been standing—was it just five minutes before?—there was nothing left. Just a view to the sky, which was now clearing.

Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, fears, worries. She had to get home to find her family, to see if they were okay. She had to see if her house was okay. And then a thought popped into her mind.

The card.

The tornado must have taken it away. All thirteen pieces. The books were gone. The bits of card inside the books were gone. Had she, Charlotte, done this? Had she caused the tornado to come? To blow away part of the library?

She felt sick just thinking about it.

Mrs. Lazer had her ear to the radio, listening intently.

“Does your phone work, Charlotte?”

Her phone. Of course! She could call her mother. With trembling hands she turned it on.

No service.

“There's no service,” she said. “I need to know if my family is okay. Can I go now? It's only three blocks.”

They could hear the wail of sirens in the distance.

Mrs. Lazer nodded, still listening to the radio. “I think it's all right now. The sky looks clear and blue. Yes, go. Be careful. I'm going to lock up and go see what's what with my own house too. Although it feels a little silly to lock the place, when there's a whole wall missing.”

Charlotte took off running. She'd only just made it down the front steps of the library when she felt her phone buzz. Was cell service back?

She whipped it out of her jacket pocket. It was a message from the mysterious texter.

It's over. For now.