AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The soldiers?” Avis repeated, clutching her leather satchel. This wasn’t the argument she’d prepared for.
“Yes indeed. They’ve found that our boys overseas, lacking constructive activities, have become avid readers, devouring anything sent to them.” Miss Cavendish ran a hand over some of the spines, smiling faintly, as if already picturing them in the hands of GIs. “I was worried at first about finding a good home for the books upon the closure this September. It was positively providential that I heard about this campaign.”
Avis nearly groaned out loud. Why was it that Providence always seemed to be on Miss Cavendish’s side?
Probably because of heretical thoughts like that.
“Here is a list of categories most in demand by the program. As you have time around your other duties, I’d like you to go through this list, then withdraw and pack anything suitable, preferably within the next month.”
Avis took the paper, scanning the list.
For military libraries, up-to-date textbooks or reference materials are requested. For the troops’ recreational reading, we are seeking adventure novels, humor books, sports books, mysteries, Westerns, etc.
There would go Wodehouse and Stevenson and Christie into boxes to be sent overseas.
Please, no children’s books, romances, or books primarily pertaining to women’s issues.
The Velveteen Rabbitwas safe, anyway, as well as Ginny’s entire storage closet.
But most important, books must not be dog-eared or tattered; they are not junk donated to a scrap drive. Only books in first-class physical condition can be used in this battle for improved morale.
This wasn’t a simple withdrawal of a few dozen books. Why, hundreds of items in the library’s collection might fit this description.
Avis remembered Anthony’s letter about passing around the paperback novel she’d sent him among his brothers-in-arms, pictured his foxhole book club discussing the now-tattered copy in animated voices. Did they get into good-natured arguments like her little group? Were they finding that a good book had the power to take them away, if only for a moment, from the brutal realities of war?
“It does sound like a good cause,” she had to admit, “but we need books here in Derby too—and we need them in a space where we can gather together. Can’t you see? All those new club members, they don’t keep coming back only because reading gives them something to do. They come back because they’re tired of being alone. We all are.”
By the time Avis paused to take a breath, she noticed that Louise had lowered her clipboard, just slightly. And the look in her eyes...
Maybe she understood. Maybe she too had found the club to be a refuge.
Louise cleared her throat. “I’ve given that a great deal of thought. The book club is welcome to continue meeting on a reduced schedule—perhaps monthly, or even quarterly—at Windward Hall. I can provide funds for the chosen books, as long as they’re appropriate.”
That wasn’t the answer Avis had expected to hear, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. It might not be so bad if they could keep gathering, even if it was less frequent. Thechairs at Windward Hall had to be more comfortable than the stiff wooden ones supplied to the library.
And yet ...“She’s got her hooks into everything, doesn’t she?”Ginny’s comment from months before flickered back through Avis’s mind, and this time she didn’t try to defend against it.
Do you know, she wondered, looking at Louise’s clear-eyed expression, finger tapping the inventory list as if she could advance the conversation to a faster pace,how controlling you’ve become?
Likely not. Offering her home to the book club was another good deed to add to her résumé.
“While that’s a generous offer,” Avis said, attempting diplomacy, “it’s not the same. The library and its books allow people to browse, discuss, explore.”
“And now its books will do the same for hundreds of soldiers, and the building itself will become a welcoming place for needy children.”
Avis felt an old frustration rising, and now she could finally name it: the feeling of being pulled between two good things, as if by wanting to keep the library open, she was insisting that soldiers ought never to receive care packages and the children of war workers should be abandoned.
But each day she spent dusting the antique oak shelves, improving at giving recommendations to patrons who stopped in with obscure questions, losing herself in stories during the slow hours, Avis realized how deeply she would miss this place. “Why?” she blurted out. “Why are you so set on closing the library?”
Instead of the expected speech, Miss Cavendish paused thoughtfully. “‘In War, Charity.’”
“Excuse me?”
“The motto of the Red Cross. In times of great hardship, we all have to make sacrifices, Avis. And I don’t mean only reducedsugar rations or the inability to buy a new washing machine. Sacrifices must cost something.”
After so many book club meetings, Avis knew Miss Cavendish didn’t mean to sound condescending. It was just the tone she drifted into when making speeches. Still, Avis couldn’t keep irritation from building within her. “I think I understand sacrifice, Miss Cavendish, after waving good-bye to my brother on a troop train and watching my husband leave to search the Atlantic for U-boats.” She gripped the Victory Book Campaign list tighter, watching it crinkle in her hands. “It’s all well and good to donate money and serve on committees, but how many loved ones have you sacrificed, Louise?”
Avis had meant the words to hit hard, but even she wasn’t prepared for the hurt in Miss Cavendish’s eyes.
