A Kind of Paradise

by Amy Rebecca Tan

  “Beverly, I can’t—” I began, but she cut me off quickly.

  “I want you to, Jamie, please.” She was looking right at me now, telling me straight and true. “I would love for you to have this book. I would love for you to read it again and keep it always.”

  I picked the book up and felt both the lightness and weight of it in my hands. The book was thick and worn, and the page edges were soft as velvet against my skin. I clutched it to my chest. “I will. I’ll keep it forever, I promise,” I told her. “Thank you so much, Beverly. This is really special.”

  “Well, so are you. Thank you so much for joining us this summer.” She reached up to the locket around her neck and fingered it, sliding it back and forth on the chain, then released it back down under her shirt.

  And that’s when I knew, clear as if I’d opened it and looked with my own two eyes, that it was her sister, Dorothy, tucked away in that locket. Beverly carried her sister to the library with her every day, nestled in gold above her heart.

  “Would you like a few cookies before you go?” Beverly asked then as she heaved a huge stack of papers from the floor back onto her desk. She still had a library to run.

  “I’ll take some from the stash downstairs. I think Lenny made those for you to take home,” I told her.

  As I stepped out of her office, the entrance bells jingled and I saw Mrs. Evans march through the door. She scanned the library space and spotted Lenny just as he lifted his head from his laptop, smiled, and waved her over.

  I knew then for absolute sure—Mrs. Evans had meant every single word she wrote in that letter to the Biweekly. She had officially joined our fight.

  Lenny

  “Jamie, you got a sec? I have something to show you.”

  It was Friday afternoon and Lenny was leaning over a table in the reading room, where he had been stationed all week, organizing flyer campaigns and collecting signatures for the petition.

  I left the cart of audiobooks by the wall where I was shelving and met him by the magazines. “What’s up?”

  Lenny was looking at a drawing spread out on the table in front of him. I followed his gaze down to it.

  “Whoa” came out of my mouth as an involuntary response.

  It was amazing.

  I stepped closer to look.

  The drawing was done in a satiny black ink on a white background. It showed an open book with an adult fox and her baby fox on the left page, gazing at a barren field on the right. The words Foxfield Library Friends League were hand-printed in calligraphy. The words circled the book image, and so did a leafy vine that followed the path of the words, swirled beneath the two foxes, and ended with one thin tendril of vine taking root in the empty field. It took my breath away.

  “Pretty incredible, huh?” Lenny asked me.

  “It’s gorgeous. What’s it for?”

  “We started a group.” And he cleared his throat to recite, “Foxfield Library Friends League is a collective of dedicated library advocates who support the advancement of their local public library and the services it provides.”

  Then he raised his eyebrows at me. “Pretty impressive sounding, don’t ya think?”

  “We have a league now? Of supporters?”

  “We sure do. Lots of libraries have volunteer groups who fund-raise and help them in different ways. We decided it was time we had one, too. And we have three volunteers who agreed to co-run the league for us and recruit members.”

  “This is so awesome!”

  “And this is our official seal.” He held up the paper, his arms stretched out long and straight before him so we could consider it from a distance. Lenny’s arms were long enough that the drawing really was a decent distance away.

  It was stunning, and it was ours.

  “Who made it?” I wanted to know.

  Lenny kept his eyes glued to the drawing and answered, “A local student by the name of Trey Evans.”

  I gulped.

  Trey did this? For us?

  “Trey Evans,” I repeated. It was all I could say.

  “The one and only,” Lenny confirmed.

  “But why?” I managed to get out. “I mean, how?”

  “His mom. She’s one of our biggest supporters.” Lenny put the drawing back down on the table and carefully covered it with a protective sheet of tissue paper. “And that’s all because of you.” When he looked at me then, I saw the exhaustion in his face, the small swooshes of blue collecting under each eye. Between his two jobs and the library campaign, he had been working nonstop.

  “It turns out Mrs. Evans has some pretty powerful friends in town, and she’s been working them on our behalf,” Lenny continued to explain. “And then she mentioned that her son was a great artist and would be happy to design a logo for the Friends League.”

  It was amazing the way everything had shifted gears in just a few months. That confusing quote from Black Hat Guy’s chair ran through my head again: Time changes everything except something within us which is always surprised by change. That quote had bothered me all summer, literally stopping me in my tracks several times as I read it over and over, trying to understand it.

  And now I thought I finally got it.

  So much had changed in just a few months, and not just in the mess of me and Trey and Trina. The library, which I’d walked by hundreds of times without giving a second thought, was now my favorite place to be. Wally, who had made the library a regular part of his life, would never lean on the counter or borrow flicks again. Lenny and Sonia, who had worked side by side for years, were maybe, finally, growing into something more. Things change. We all knew this. But it still surprised us every time it happened. That was what the quote was saying.

  I had forgiven myself. Mrs. Evans had forgiven me, too, and so had Trey.

  “Trey’s an amazing artist,” I bragged for him, although I was really just stating the obvious.

  “So now we have this great logo and Mrs. Evans knows someone willing to print up T-shirts for us. We’re moving right along.”

  “What can I do to help? I want to do something!” I felt infused with energy, like a hummingbird after a hit of sugar water.

  “Keep doing what you’re doing,” Lenny said in all sincerity. “You covering for me at the desk, and everywhere else, allows me to work on this and keep the momentum going. We need a tsunami of pressure as fast as we can whirl it up.”

  “I was hoping for a more exciting assignment than that,” I said, slightly deflated. “But okay, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing.”

  “Thanks, J. You’re the best.” Lenny clapped me on the shoulder as he said it.

  My eyes fell on the drawing again, the strong ink lines pulsing through the thin tissue paper on top. “And I can’t wait to get my T-shirt. Any way we can speed that up?”

  “I was just about to call Mrs. Evans now,” Lenny told me, picking up his cell phone. “I’ll let you know.”

  Black Hat Guy

  Sonia and I both did a double take at the sight of Black Hat Guy strolling through the library entrance on Monday. We checked the clock above the door, then looked back at him again.

  It was 11:13 in the morning.

  And Black Hat Guy was here.

  In the library.

  Black Hat Guy dropped his stuff in the usual spot, then crossed to the other side of the circ desk and helped himself to a newspaper. He returned to his chair, sat with one ankle crossed over his knee, opened the paper with a firm snap, and disappeared behind it.

  “Well,” Sonia leaned in to tell me, “I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad sign, but it’s a sign, all right.”

  “Of what?” I asked.

  “Of something,” Sonia said with an eerie hush in her voice.

  I looked again at the clock—11:14—and then out the window at the calm blue morning sky.

  “Well, now you’re freaking me out,” I said.

  “He’s in a different shirt, too. Did you see?”

  “It’s bright pur
ple. Kind of hard to miss,” I answered, although I couldn’t see it at that moment. From where I stood, it looked like a pair of denim jeans had sprouted a huge page of newsprint.

  Lenny came into the library then with three people I’d never seen before, a small pile of books cradled in his arms.

  “Good morning, Jamie.” He nodded at me, then slowed his pace to look at Sonia and nod in a whole different way as he greeted her. “Sonia,” he said, and I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to say her name like it was a line from the most romantic poem ever.

  And Sonia blushed. You couldn’t miss the rosy flush that flooded her neck and cheeks.

  “For you from the book drop, Jamie. Thank you.” Lenny slid the books onto the counter and then proceeded to the campaign area with his followers.

  Black Hat Guy lowered his paper at the sound of Lenny’s voice, but Lenny didn’t look at that side of the library. He was on a petition mission.

  Beverly appeared then suddenly, at the bottom of the loft staircase, from one of her inspection rounds. I watched her shake hands with each of the people Lenny brought in, rubbing her hands up and down the sides of her pants between each one, which I hoped they didn’t mistake as her rubbing off their touch. If they knew Beverly at all, they would know that was just one of her mannerisms, her nervous tic. I had learned over the summer that Beverly was a lot stronger than she looked, like that trick candle on a birthday cake that looked so easy to snuff out but instead left you breathless and winded, worried about your wish. Beverly was not one to be knocked out so easily.

  Lenny showed his group the drawing Trey had made, while Beverly continued to nod and thank each person repeatedly for their support. Then she silent-stepped her way back to her office, and after a few more minutes, Lenny brought his petition to the circ desk.

  “Look at this.” He turned the papers to face us. “We’ve officially passed our goal for signatures. I had to print new sheets and I still have people coming in later today to sign.”

  Sonia squeezed Lenny’s hand, and with the way he looked back at her, I almost felt like I should leave the room.

  “So”—I cleared my throat—“when will you deliver the petition? When do you stop collecting?”

  “Beverly will let me know.” Lenny pulled himself out of his Sonia trance. “She’s been working another angle with some other library people she knows. It should be soon, though.”

  “My mom is coming by later today to sign,” I told him.

  “Terrific.” Lenny pulled two blank sheets from his stack and attached them to a clipboard. “I’m leaving these sheets here so you can collect from anyone who comes in while I’m gone. I’m going door to door to the shops in town to see who we’ve missed.”

  “Okay, we’re on it,” Sonia said.

  Black Hat Guy ruffled his newspaper forcefully and then gave it a hard shake as he worked to fold it back up. The paper didn’t cooperate, but it got Lenny’s attention.

  “Hey, look at you there,” Lenny said, “all bright and early.”

  Black Hat Guy stood up then as Lenny walked over. I read three large letters printed in white across the front of his shirt: AWO. Underneath was printed Animal Welfare Organization Since 1959.

  “Yeah, well, I gotta be somewhere at noon and I won’t be done till late and you’ll be closed by then,” Black Hat Guy explained to Lenny, but loud enough for all of us to hear.

  “Nothing wrong, I hope?” Lenny asked, ready to console and counsel.

  “Nah.” Black Hat Guy shook off that notion, then half grinned as he said, “Got a gig, actually. I’ll only make it here in the mornings from now on, if it’s a keeper.”

  “Really?” Lenny clapped his hand on Black Hat Guy’s shoulder and gave him a nudge. “Whereabouts?”

  “Just over in Taunton, at the AWO.” And with that he grasped the bottom edge of his shirt with both hands and tugged it out straight so Lenny could easily read the print.

  “Not bad, man, not bad,” Lenny said approvingly. “You’re working there now?”

  “Kind of.” Black Hat Guy turned around to show Lenny the back of his shirt, which had the word VOLUNTEER stamped in white print right in the middle. He turned back around and explained, “Already did my training, and now I’m putting in my volunteer hours. Could turn into something, though, maybe.” He shrugged and tilted his head like it was all out of his hands, but he couldn’t hide the hopeful ring in his voice.

  “Sounds promising. Good for you, man.” Lenny reached out to shake his hand.

  “Thanks.” Black Hat Guy shrugged again and admitted, “Yeah, well, it turns out I’m pretty good with dogs.”

  “Oh yeah?” Lenny was so happy for him you could feel it from across the room.

  “I just get them, I don’t know,” Black Hat Guy explained. “It’s kind of natural to me, even with the tough ones.” Then he paused a moment and added, “Especially with the tough ones. Some of those dogs haven’t been treated right, you know.”

  “You’re doing a great thing,” Lenny told him, his voice swelling with admiration. “A really great thing. I’m happy for you, man.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Black Hat Guy said. “So far, so good.”

  He returned to his seat and started scrolling through his phone, and Lenny checked in with Beverly before heading out to collect signatures in town.

  Sonia took Wally’s vase downstairs to refresh the water for the orange rose I bought last Tuesday, and I manned the circ desk, double-checking returned items before putting them in order on a shelving cart. I printed out guest passes for two different computer stations and was able to get both visitors to sign the petition.

  An older woman in dark jeans and high-heeled flip-flops asked about the new Diane von Furstenberg book, so I walked her to the Biography stacks in the back room.

  And staring out at me from the shelf, right at eye level, was a brand-new biography of Charlotte Brontë. The cover was a pinkish-red color with a drawing of Charlotte’s face, and before I knew it, it was in my hands and I was reading the summary on the back. The book explained how the crush Charlotte had on a man in her own life inspired the love story she wrote in Jane Eyre. I had a crush in real life, and I had read Jane Eyre, so this book was practically made for me!

  I had to read it.

  The book was really fat, though, and when I flipped through the inside I saw that the print was tiny. It would probably take an entire summer for me to get through it, and summer was practically over. I already knew eighth grade came with a lot of homework. Plus Art Club. Plus volunteering at the library (if we still had a library) . . .

  I guessed the Brontë biography would have to wait.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” Black Hat Guy was waiting for me when I got back to the circ desk, his backpack on, his cell phone in the hand he was resting on the counter. His winter hat was pushed back so more forehead was visible than I had ever seen before. It made his eyes look larger and his face younger than it did when the hat was pulled down low over his eyebrows.

  “Hi, yes?” I asked, surprised to be referred to as ma’am.

  “You’ve got a petition going, I heard? For the library?” he asked.

  “Um, yes, we do. It’s right here.” I slid the clipboard in front of him. “We’ve reached our goal but are still collecting more. You didn’t sign yet?” I couldn’t believe Lenny hadn’t collected from all the regulars already.

  “No, I was gonna, but I didn’t get to it. I’ll sign now.”

  “That’d be great, thank you.” I handed him a pen and pointed out the different spaces, “If you could print your name here, then sign here, and then put your address,” I stumbled, but caught myself quickly, “or just some contact information here, that would be great.” I kept my eyes on his shirt, focusing on the AWO, as he took the pen and began to write.

  “You know, there was a dog hanging out behind the library, by the book drops, and he looked like a stray, but I haven’t seen him lately,” I mentioned.

&nbs
p; “Yeah, I know about that guy. I took him into the shelter already, the AWO.” And he motioned to his shirt then. “They cleaned him up and there’s already two applications for him. He’ll have a good home soon.”

  “Wow, that was fast,” I said, pleased to know his scavenging days were over.

  “The small dogs get adopted faster,” Black Hat Guy explained to me. “At the shelter at least, that’s what they say.”

  He finished writing and slid the clipboard back to me, placing the pen down on top of it. “You got a dog?” he asked.

  “No. Nobody’s home all day at my house. My mom said it wouldn’t be fair to leave a dog alone all day.”

  “That’s true,” Black Hat Guy agreed. “Well, if you ever want to hang out with some dogs or walk one or play or something, come to the shelter. They like having visitors there, you know.”

  “I didn’t know. Thanks. Maybe I will.” This was my longest conversation ever with Black Hat Guy. In fact, this was my only conversation ever with Black Hat Guy. “I’d love to see Shady again before he gets adopted and leaves for good.”

  “Shady?”

  I felt a shy smile creep onto my face. “That’s what I named him. Because he always curled up between the book drops in the shade.”

  Black Hat Guy laughed. A short, sincere laugh.

  “I like Shady. The shelter named him Snickers. Adopters usually give their own names, though. But I’ll think of him as Shady now.” Black Hat Guy smiled at me, and I smiled right back.

  “Thank you for signing the petition,” I said again.

  “Well, can’t let ’em close the library.”

  “No, we can’t,” I agreed.

  He tipped his head at me then, waved with his cell phone hand, and left the library, the bells chiming a sweet note behind him.

  Sonia returned with a fresh cup of coffee and Wally’s vase, the water clear and the flower still standing tall. Roses seemed to last a lot longer than carnations.