How Marian the Librarian Came to the Rescue, Part 1

A story dedicated to:
Maylin, Lahring and the award-winning Dewey Divas; and to neighbourhood libraries where the only bad reader is a dead one (but of course librarians don’t say that, at least not as far as I know).

When I lived in that neighbourhood, I would sometimes take Playground Polly and her little brother Boffo to the local children’s library. They weren’t my kids but they showed up together on irregular Saturday mornings in a going-to-the-library mood.

When we would get to the library, we had to go up a flight of stairs and through two sets of doors to get to the children’s section. Both Polly and Boffo would have a cheerful hello for Marian the Librarian. She always waved to acknowledge their greeting.

On this particular morning, we find Marian the Librarian struggling with the set for a puppet show that is soon to begin. The set consists of two cardboard walls designed to sit in the slots of wooden blocks positioned on the floor.

Polly and Boffo race to offer her assistance and admiration. She is pleased and says, ‘Hold the fort; I’ve got a couple of things I must do before we begin!’

From the curtains that disguise the deep, right-corner recesses of this ‘special events room,’ a tall man appears. He strides towards them. ‘I’m the puppet-master,’ he says, sharply.

Boffo, who never sees the crossness on a person's face, enthusiastically expresses his wish to learn the art and asks if he can he stay and watch the puppet master behind the stage. I see that Polly shares my surprise when he says yes.

Polly says she’ll watch from the front, goes and sits on the floor where lots of other children have begun to congregate. I am content, sitting on a small chair in the library proper (reading a fascinating book ‘for teens’ called Kissing Doorknobs about OCD). I read as the puppet master begins.