How Can I Help You by Laura Sims EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Laura Sims
- Language: English
- Genre: Psychological Literary Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
MARGO
The moment I walked through the front door, I knew. That deep, abiding
quiet, and the sense that the outside world couldn’t reach me here. I was
like someone chased by demons across the threshold of a church, stepping
into the library that first time. I could have turned around, right there at the
door, and stuck my tongue out at the world.
Can’t catch me.
I didn’t do it, and besides, the world wasn’t watching. Couldn’t find me
anyway, could it? I’d already changed my hair and makeup, my clothes, my
voice, and even the way I walked. I’d changed my name, too. I’d been Jane
but I was Margo now. I liked Margo. Jane would have turned and stuck her
tongue out, but Margo never would. No, Margo simply stood in the
vestibule, shoulders back and head held high like a queen.
I hadn’t spent much time in libraries before then. It was quiet as a
nighttime ICU ward—maybe quieter, without all the noise that goes with
slow dying: the whoosh of respirators, the mechanical beeps of infusion
pumps. I stared up at the high, vaulted ceiling and around at the egg-white
walls, then sat down at one of the public computers. I checked the want ads
and saw one for circulation clerk right there at the Carlyle Public Library. I
toiled over a cover letter and résumé for an hour or so, then handed them in
at the desk. “I was so happy to see this job come up,” I said to the stout,
red-haired woman there. She seemed managerial, but I learned later that Liz
was just a regular staff member.
“I can’t imagine a more peaceful work
environment,” I went on, waving my arm around. She chuckled a bit, as if
I’d said something funny. But from what I could tell, the library was just
that: quiet, anonymous, orderly, and sane. From the grandness of the old
building to the way the light slanted through the high windows that
afternoon, I knew I’d landed in a cozy, carpeted, outdated vault, and I loved
it on sight. The job was what I wanted, too: helping people. Not the way I’d
helped them before, at the hospital, but still. I would be serving others.
When I’d glanced around at the careworn souls sitting at the monitors that
day, I’d known there would be plenty of work for me here, plenty of
helping to do.
Liz and I struck up a conversation. I told her how long I’d been in
town, how much I was enjoying the weekend farmers’ market—though I
hadn’t even been—and the birdsong outside my window every morning.
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