“I’m serious. That word does not roll through my head,” Mary said. “Every time it cropped up, I had to stop and sound it out and it never felt right and then I was just irritated, so I quit.”
“Hawthorne loved that word,” Lindsey said. “I read a critique where it said he uses ignominy sixteen times in the book, ignominious seven times, and ignominiously once.”
“Ugh.” Mary looked pained as she spooned more soup into her mouth.
The rest of the crafternooners shared amused looks but no one chastised Mary for quitting on the book. They weren’t very strict about that part of being a crafternooner, or any part of being a crafternooner for that matter.
“Lindsey, can I talk to you for a second?”
Lindsey turned to see Paula standing in the doorway. She was holding a book in her hands and looking excited.
“Sure, what is it?” Lindsey asked as she crossed the room.
“This book,” Paula said. “It’s my sure thing. It has to be the winner for the category of most overdue item.”
To keep the staff entertained during the flood of incoming materials, Lindsey had offered up prizes for the staff member who found the most overdue item or the most abused material. The prize was a free pizza because Lindsey had discovered during the past couple of years as director that food was always a motivator for her staff.
“Really?” Lindsey took the book and glanced at the cover. It was The Catcher in the Rye and it looked to be in good shape. “How overdue is it?”
“Judging by the slip that was left inside, the book was due on October twenty-third, 1996.” Paula pointed to a yellowed piece of paper. “Twenty years.”
“No way,” Lindsey said.
“Way,” Paula said. “So, I’m down for the free pizza from Marco’s, right?”
Lindsey pointed to the clock. “The contest goes until closing time today, but so far it looks like you’re in the lead.”
Paula pumped her fist.
“Did someone say pizza?” Mary asked. She had moved from the soup to the veggie platter but her eyes lit up at the word pizza.
“Not for you,” Lindsey said. “Go put your name and the book’s name on the leader board, Paula. I’d like to keep the book, though.”
“Will do,” Paula said. She left the room with one more pump of her fist.
“Wow, twenty years overdue. What ILS were they using back then?” Beth asked.
“Dynix,” Lindsey said. She glanced at the book, which looked to have been well taken care of over the years. “Remember when we thought that integrated library system was the cutting edge of technology? Let’s see, if we calculate the fine at today’s going rate of twenty cents per day for twenty years, we’re looking at . . . help me out, somebody.”
“About seventy-three dollars per year, which would be fourteen hundred sixty dollars,” Mary said.
They all looked at her.
“What?” she asked. “I’m good with numbers.”
“Impressive,” Nancy said.
“Ignominious,” Violet joked.
“Good thing you’re having an amnesty,” Charlene said. “Can you imagine paying that fine?”
“We’d never charge more than the cost of the book, but you’re right that it’s steep, although not as bad as Keith Richards’s library fines I’ll bet,” Lindsey said.
“Keith Richards the rock star?” Violet asked.
“That’s the one,” Lindsey said. “Apparently, he was quite the library lover in his youth. In his autobiography, he said the library was the only place he would willingly obey the laws, like silence. And he admitted he was a bookworm who checked out books but never returned them. He has something like fifty years in fines racked up in Dartford, Kent.”
“Ha! Can you imagine Ms. Cole taking on Keith Richards?” Nancy asked. “I’d pay to see that.”
“Me, too,” Violet snorted.
“Who do you suppose had this book checked out for twenty years?” Charlene asked. “And why return it now?”
“I’ll bet the lemon knows,” Beth said. “She never forgets an overdue book.”
“She can’t have kept the records that far back, can she?” Lindsey asked.
Beth pointed her scepter at her. “Only one way to find out.”
Lindsey shrugged. Holding the book close, she went to find Ms. Cole.
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