The Library (a short story)

by Karen A. Wyle

  "All done?"

  Rachel nodded, not yet ready to engage in casual conversation. Cassidy seemed to understand. She smiled and gestured toward the door.

  "I thought we could have another picnic. I had something a little different in mind, this time -- if it's all right with you. But first --"

  Cassidy handed her a picture book. "Did you ever read this?"

  Rachel reached for the book and stroked it gently. "Oh, yes! I always loved this book. I even had a copy, for a while."

  "I love it too. I could just imagine the ducklings, waddling and quacking!"

  Rachel hesitated, then told Cassidy the truth. "I imagined I was a duckling. It sounded so wonderful, having the mama duck teach them so many things, and lead them into the garden . . . . And then, there were the friendly policemen. I used to wonder -- when I was little -- why the police in our neighborhood weren't more like those police."

  Cassidy looked solemnly at Rachel. "I thought about the mama duck too."

  They stood in silence for a moment. Then Cassidy straightened up, shook her head a little, and took the book back from Rachel, opening it to the page where the family of ducks, all in a line, entered the gates of the Boston Public Garden.

  "Would you like to have a picnic here?"

  Cassidy grinned at Rachel's look of stunned surprise. "I found someone who'd been there, and they shared it with me, so now I can go any time I want, and take my friends."

  Rachel closed her eyes for a moment and relished the words. Cassidy had called her a friend.

  "So, would you like to go?"

  Rachel nodded so hard it hurt her neck for a moment. She waited to see how it would happen -- and then, they were there.

  They stood before the gates pictured in the book, the gates through which the ducks had passed at the end of their adventurous journey. But the gates looked too small.

  Rachel felt a moment of disappointment, and tried to suppress it, but Cassidy caught her expression. "It doesn't look quite the same, does it? How about if you go younger? You can be very young, looking up at the gates -- and I'll go a bit older, and hold your hand."

  An idea came to Rachel that almost took her breath away. She did not dare to state it as a wish. Instead, she asked, stammering a bit: "H-how much older?"

  Cassidy's eyes grew bright, and she blinked away what might have been a tear. "This much, honey." And there she stood, a woman instead of a girl . . . old enough to be somebody's mother.

  Rachel gazed up at her, drinking in the sight. Then she took a deep breath, and let herself go younger, smaller, until she was looking up at the big stone gates. She reached up her hand for Cassidy to take. Cassidy held it tight. Together, they walked into the garden.

  Rachel stood on the grass, not far from the gate, and jumped up and down in sheer delight. The nice lady laughed and squeezed her hand. "Why don't you slip a bit older, so you can run around more easily, and see more things at once?"

  It took a moment to remember what the lady was talking about. Then Rachel shut her eyes tight, pursed her lips, and let herself get bigger and bigger, older and older, until she was nine years old. She ran on into the garden. Cassidy stayed grown up and followed close behind.

  Cassidy had brought them to the perfect moment of spring, where light pink blossoms hung from the drooping branches of cherry trees, and fresh green weeping willow shoots hung even lower, brushing the grass and the waters of the large pond. Daffodils in every variation of white and yellow lined some of the paths, and other paths boasted tulips in delicate striped pink or exuberant yellow. Birds, even more birds than in the library garden, were singing and hopping and flitting about.

  Rachel ran here and ran there, pointing, then looking back at Cassidy to make sure she saw everything too.

  "There's the island! . . . And the swan boats! . . . AND THE DUCKS!"

  There were ducks following the swan boats, and more ducks nosing about in the grass. On the far side of the pond, a pair of swans regally ignored their lowly cousins.

  "Look over here!" Cassidy led her toward a row of bronze sculptures.

  "Oh, yes!" It was like seeing old friends in an unexpected meeting, a lovely surprise. The bronze mother duck led her little bronze ducklings down a gray brick path. Mama Duck was bigger than a real duck, which made it easier to appreciate her proud posture.

  Rachel reached out a timid hand. "May I? . . ."

  Cassidy squatted down and stroked the smooth bronze back. "Of course!" Rachel followed suit, stroking the mother, scooting down, patting each baby in turn.

  As they rose to their feet, a duck waddled up to the sculpture, looked up at the oversized mother duck, and honked at it indignantly. Rachel laughed and clapped her hands.

  She caught a movement in the corner of her eye, and turned to see Cassidy spreading a blanket on the grass nearby, a basket on her arm. "Don't forget our picnic!"

  It was still a startling novelty, acknowledging her hunger without fear, knowing food was just a moment away. Perhaps she didn't need to eat, here, but satisfying hunger was far too pleasant an experience to give up just yet. Rachel ran over and dropped down onto the blanket. "Is there anything in the basket yet?"

  Cassidy nodded. "I thought I'd share some of my own favorites, this time. You can add anything else, if you want -- but will you start by trying what's here?"

  Rachel watched eagerly as Cassidy unloaded the basket. She recognized most of the items. There were apples, red blending into green and back again; hard boiled eggs, big ones, already peeled; muffins that looked and smelled like chocolate. There was some other kind of fruit, one she didn't recognize, small and oval and orange. She pointed a hesitant finger; Cassidy picked up one of the fruits and said, "Kumquats. They're a little bit sour. You might want to eat them just before the muffins -- it'll make the muffins sweeter."

  Cassidy pulled out a thermos and two big mugs, and opened the thermos. She poured out steaming soup, orangey-red. "Cream of tomato soup! Here." Cassidy reached for the mug and took a sip. It was almost too hot, but not quite, and tasted vaguely familiar.

  "I think I had this once."

  Cassidy poured some soup for herself. "Do you want to remember?"

  Rachel shook her head. It was nicer simply to eat, and drink, and enjoy Cassidy's company.

  After they ate, the girls lay back on the blanket, soaking up the sunshine. A little ways away, in the direction of the pond, Rachel could hear people talking and laughing. She listened for a while, glad they were not too close, but wondering what they were doing, growing more curious. Finally, she made herself older, a teenager, and sat up to look.

  One of the swan boats had made its way to the near end of the pond. It moved so quietly that all she could hear were the sounds of the people, sitting in rows of benches on the flat-bottomed boat.

  The boat rounded the bend of the pond and headed away again. As it went, the distant pair of swans swam closer, until swan boat and swans met in the water and passed each other, moving with equal majesty.

  "Would you like to ride on one of the boats?"

  Rachel turned toward Cassidy, her eyes wide, her throat constricted.

  "You don't have to, of course. You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. But it might be nice, watching the water glide by close enough to touch, and seeing the trees reflected in it. And I'd be there, all the time."

  Rachel looked back at the receding boat, now approaching the dock. Yes, she did want to ride! In fact -- "Will you be a teenager with me?"

  Cassidy beamed. "Of course!" She slid from woman to girl, dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Rachel held her breath, concentrated, and conjured up her own sweatshirt -- with the mother and baby ducks strutting across the front. Cassidy clapped, then jumped up and started toward the boat dock. Rachel trotted after her.

  They did not have long to wait for the boat. There were a handful of others waiting with them: an older couple who looked very like each other, short in stature with short curly gray hair and wide fri
endly faces, and a father with two redheaded boys. Rachel tried to imagine having a father. She thought she might more easily imagine being a redheaded boy.

  The boat pulled up, and the passengers got off, still laughing and happy. Rachel, Cassidy and the others stepped onto the boat and found seats. Behind the rows of passengers, almost hidden by the big carved swan, sat the driver, a tall young woman with an easy grin.

  As they got ready to leave the dock, Cassidy asked the driver, "Do you do this often?"

  "Oh, now and then. It's fun to meet people, and say hello to the trees and the ducks at the same time. Would you like to try it?"

  "Sure!" Cassidy started to get up. Rachel grabbed her hand, holding her down, then let go and hunched in her seat, getting smaller, ten years old, six. Cassidy sat back down and put her arm around Rachel. "Oh, honey, it's OK! Just a minute." She turned back to the driver. "Could my friend come with me? Is there room for two?"

  "I think so, if you squeeze a bit. Come on back!"

  "Alley-oop!" Cassidy picked Rachel up and carried her to the seat behind the swan. They sat down, Rachel on Cassidy's lap.

  The driver showed them how everything worked. "These pedals make the boat move. You pull this rope to turn it left, and this one to turn it right."

  Cassidy gave the pedals an experimental push. That made her lap move in a funny way, and Rachel found herself giggling again. Cassidy laughed too. "I'll make the boat go, and give you an extra ride at the same time!"

  Cassidy turned around to make sure everyone was seated, and then headed off.

  Bumping about on Cassidy's lap was fun at first, but after a while, she was glad when Cassidy suggested a different arrangement. "Why don't you sit next to me, now? And when we want to turn left, you can pull the rope!"

  Rachel slid off Cassidy's lap and sat next to her. She held her hand toward the rope, and hesitated. Cassidy stretched out her own hand. "Here -- let's pull the rope together, and go under the bridge.”

  Rachel put her hand next to Cassidy's on the left-hand rope, and they pulled together, slowly and steadily. The boat headed left.

  “Now we'd better let go, or we'll go back the way we came!”

  Rachel snatched her hand away from the rope. They headed for the bridge, and were soon passing underneath it. The people on the bridge leaned over and waved. Rachel stood up and waved energetically back, Cassidy steadying her with a hand on her waist.

  “Would you like to take a turn at pedaling?”

  Rachel took a deep breath and became a teenager again. She and Cassidy carefully changed places. The broad, flat boat was too stable to care.

  Rachel stretched her legs out all the way. She could just get her feet onto the pedals, without having to grow bigger. The boat had slowed to nearly a stop while she got into position. She pushed her right foot, tentatively and then with more force. The boat started forward again, gliding, doing just what she told it to do.

  They reached the dock again. The ride had been lovely, but Rachel was tired from peddling, and from being around strangers, even friendly ones. Cassidy followed her off the boat. "Shall we walk, and stretch our legs a bit?"

  She had already been stretching her legs, reaching the pedals, but a walk sounded good. They ambled along one path and then another, while blossoms drifted down, and robins hopped along beside them.

  Cassidy paused to catch a blossom in her hand, and then blew it away again. "Would you like to go somewhere from another book, sometime? We could go to Prince Edward Island, and the house that became Green Gables. Or we could go to London, and see Paddington Station, and ride a double-decker bus!"

  Rachel tried to imagine it. Just now, after the boat, those places sounded rather full of people. "Yes. . . . Or -- could we go to the Island of the Blue Dolphins? That was real, wasn't it?"

  She thought she heard Cassidy sigh, just a bit, but she was distracted by the sudden appearance of a woman, up ahead, under a willow tree. And not another stranger -- her aunt Dana. Dana looked both nervous and excited. What was happening?

  Dana stepped forward and held out her hands. Her face kept moving in and out of different expressions -- smiling, serious, uncertain. "Rachel -- it's Lori. Your mother. She's here."

  Rachel stared at Dana. How? Why? And -- what would it be like, being with her mother again, here?

  "Rachel, she's better now. That's part of what happens when people come here. She still has a lot of work to do -- but she doesn't need the drugs any more."

  Rachel could tell that Dana had something else to say. She waited.

  "She's been here a while, actually -- getting used to things, and remembering her life. I hope you'll forgive my not telling you. We wanted her to be ready . . . And she thinks she is. Are you? Are you ready to see her again?"

  Rachel forced herself to speak. Only a whisper came out. "I want to see her."

  Rachel let Dana come close enough to take her hand. Would they go somewhere, wherever Mama was? But no -- walking toward them, and then running, running across the grass, there came her mother, looking young and strong, like that day at the park, the day on the swings. Rachel found herself running too, a little girl, running to her mother's arms.

  She did not know how long she stood hugging each other before she remembered Cassidy. Embarrassed to have forgotten her friend, she turned to find Cassidy and introduce her -- but Cassidy was pacing back and forth, clenching her fists, shaking with what had to be anger. Before Rachel could decide what to do, things changed again: Cassidy shrank from adolescent to toddler, fell down on the grass, and started to wail.

  Rachel's mother whispered in her ear: "What's going on? Why is this girl crying?"

  Rachel's eyes filled with tears of her own. "That's my friend Cassidy. She's been so good to me, helping me so much . . . She doesn't like to talk about her mother. I don't know exactly what happened."

  Lori put a hand on Rachel's shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Maybe -- I don't know, but I can try to help." She let go again and knelt down beside Cassidy. "Honey?"

  Cassidy curled up into a ball, burying her head in her arms.

  Lori sat down cross-legged on the grass. She waited a moment before she spoke again. "Cassidy, I don't know your mother -- at least, I don't think I do -- but I have a feeling there's something she'd like me to do for her."

  Cassidy raised up her head just enough to peek over her arm and up at Rachel's mother.

  "I think she'd like for me to hold you, the way she wishes she could. May I hold you, Cassidy -- just for a moment?"

  Cassidy buried her head again. Her shoulders shook with her sobs. Lori waited a few more minutes. Then, moving very slowly, she laid her hand lightly on Cassidy's shoulder. Cassidy ignored her.

  Lori moved her hand across Cassidy's back, so that soon her arm lay along Cassidy's shoulders. A few more moments, and Lori had her arm around Cassidy, pulling her nearer; and then, Cassidy was in Lori's lap, snuggled against her chest. Lori looked over at Rachel, an uncertain question on her face.

  "It's all right, Mommy," Rachel whispered, as quietly as she could.

  But the moment felt long before Cassidy sighed, and climbed out of Lori's lap, and stood up straight, tall again, almost grown. She held out her hand to Rachel. "This is your place." She pulled Rachel over toward her mother, who stood up and reached out to hold her once again.

  Cassidy stepped back. "I'll be leaving now. I'm so glad for you."

  "Wait!" Rachel tried to think of something to say. "Can we still go to -- to London, and see what Paddington saw?"

  A smile broke across Cassidy's face. At least Rachel had made her friend smile again. "That would be lovely. We'll go soon. Just think of me when you're ready." She paused, then went on. "We can meet at the library. I'll see you then." And she was gone.

  Rachel's mother jumped a bit. "I'm still not used to the way people come and go here! . . . What was all that about London and Paddington, and a library?"

  Rachel did not answer right away. She stared at the s
pot from which her friend had vanished. When would she see Cassidy again?

  With some difficulty, she pulled her attention back to her mother. "The library -- oh, yes! It's the most wonderful place! Aunt Dana showed me. And now, we can show you."

  And they were on their way.

  The End

  AFTERWORD

  If you'd like to read more about Cassidy and her family, or about this afterlife, check out

  Wander Home, a novel available in paperback and ebook formats.

  Division

  "The Baby" (a free short story)

  To learn more about the author and her work, please visit her author website

  or her author page on Facebook.