The Tie That Binds
Harry stood facing the entrance to the Boston Public Library, his heart thumping against his ribs in unconscious anticipation of what awaited him inside. In one hand he clutched his father's library card; his other hand held a hand-written note, penned by his father, giving Harry permission to use his library card to withdraw one book from the upstairs section.
He had won permission to use the card by beating his father's dare. Alexander Nelson had challenged his eight year old son to take apart the broken RCA radio that sat gathering dust in their cellar, and to put it back together again in three hours. If Harry accomplished the task, his father would let him use his library card to withdraw a book from the adult section of the library; if he was unsuccessful, Harry would have to spend three hours tidying up the cellar.
Harry had accepted the challenge eagerly, and threw himself into the task, working at a feverish pace to complete the job within the allotted time. When he was finished, the radio was not only put back together, but now worked as well; furthermore, Harry had figured out how to modify the receiver so that the radio picked up stations as far away as New York. His father had been so impressed that he called his wife down immediately to the cellar to show her what their son had accomplished. His mother had hugged Harry and called him "gifted." His father had proudly patted him on his back and called him "a genius." Harry didn't understand what all the fuss was about; all he knew was that taking the radio apart and putting it back together had been fun, and ultimately, rewarding.
As he entered the library, his slender frame practically quivered. There was nothing better that he liked to do than to go to the library and read. He sometimes imagined that the doorway to the old brick building was a magic portal created especially for him, one that opened vistas for him to explore. It wasn't that he couldn't play baseball or build and race a soapbox like other boys his age; he just preferred to challenge his mind instead of his body. It also wasn't unusual for him to bring home four or five books each time he went to the library, although it was getting harder and harder for him to find books in the children's section that he hadn't read already or that challenged his reading skills. Hence, his excitement at finding out what the upstairs section had to offer.
Harry quickly made his way past the entryway of the children's section to the stairs leading up to the second floor, where the books for grown-ups were kept. He climbed the carpeted stairs agilely, his fingers lightly skimming along the smooth surface of the wooden banister. As he reached the top step, he was brought up short by the sight that greeted him through the open doorway. Directly in front of him stood the librarian's desk, but beyond that there was a sea of shelves that reached up to the ceiling, filled with books.
In awe, he approached the main desk. As excited as he was, Harry was also a little overwhelmed; there were so many books! He didn't know where or how to begin his search for a book to read in the 'grown-up' section. And what if the book he wanted was on one of the higher shelves? How would he reach it? He needed help!
The ginger haired boy turned around, looking for someone to assist him, but saw no one. Should I wait here for the librarian?, Harry wondered, when suddenly, a voice behind him interrupted his thoughts.
"Excuse me, young man; may I help you?"
Startled, Harry whirled back and stared at the man who had suddenly appeared in the chair behind the librarian's desk.
"Are you…are you…the librarian?" he asked in confusion. He had never seen a male librarian before.
"Well, who else would be sitting at this desk, hmmm?" The man smiled up Harry, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Now, what's that you're holding in your hand, lad? "
Harry briefly hesitated. The man hadn't actually answered his question, but as he stole a glance around, nothing seemed to be wrong. He now saw that there were other adults in the library, most of them sitting down and reading, and paying no attention to the front desk. And the man behind the desk had a kind face; in fact he looked a lot like his Uncle Joe, with a shock of wavy brown hair and brown eyes to match.
Harry extended his right hand with the folded paper in it to the man. "It's a note from my father, giving me permission to take out a book from the upstairs section."
"Really?" The librarian took the proferred note, opened it and read it carefully. He raised his eyebrows and perused Harry thoughtfully. "Are you withdrawing the book for your father?"
"No, Sir," Harry answered proudly. "It's for me."
The librarian smiled kindly and handed the note back to him. "Well, Harriman, you must be very special indeed," and then added "or do you prefer to be called 'Harry'?"
The ginger-haired boy smiled back. "Harry is fine, Sir."
"All right; 'Harry' it is. And you can call me Mr. Johnson." The librarian smiled genially.
"Now, Harry, do you know which book you want to take out?"
Harry looked crestfallen at the man behind the desk. "No, Sir. I was hoping that you could help me."
The older man rubbed his chin and looked at the youth thoughtfully. "Well, it's been a long time since I was your age, but it seems to me that I remember certain books that I enjoyed when I was younger. Now, what interests you, Harry? Sports? Westerns?"
Harry shook his head 'no' at each of the librarian's suggestions.
Mr. Johnson frowned, and then suddenly snapped his fingers, his expression lightening.
"I've got it…how about adventure stories, young man? Do you like those?"
Harry nodded eagerly. "Yes, Sir!"
Mr. Johnson beamed. "Well, I know just the book then." He rose from his chair and beckoned to the boy. "Follow me, son."
As the librarian made his way into the back of the library, Harry followed him, looking about in awe. As they passed row upon row of books, his excitement and anticipation grew. Suddenly, Mr. Johnson stopped short, turned left and reached up over his head to the uppermost shelf. He pulled down a thick, leather bound book with gold lettering and Harry's heart skipped a beat. He knew that the book would be special.
Mr. Johnson turned and handed the book solemnly to Harry. "Here you go, Harry. 'Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea' by Jules Verne. It's a wonderful adventure book, all about Captain Nemo and his special submarine, the Nautilus."
Harry's eyes widened. "His submarine? What's a submarine?"
The librarian placed his hand on the young boy's shoulder. "Oh, it's a marvelous invention, Harry. A submarine is a metal boat that travels underwater. And Captain Nemo has many adventures in his. I guarantee you're going to like this book, especially a smart, young man like you." He slipped his hand to Harry's back and with a gentle nudge, pointed him back in the direction of the main desk. "Now, let's go get this checked out for you."
As they walked back towards the front desk, Harry briefly wondered how the librarian knew he was smart; after all, that hadn't been in his father's note. But then they were at the desk and Mr. Johnson took his father's library card from his hand as he prepared to punch the card from the book, as if he was in a hurry. And suddenly it didn't matter because Harry's stomach growled and he realized that he was hungry.
Mr. Johnson had apparently heard his stomach growl as well, for he suddenly reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a gold watch.
"Well, well; look at the time! It's nearly half past twelve and I've missed my lunch!" He slipped his watch back into his vest pocket, picked up Harry's book from the desk and handed it to the boy. "Sorry, lad, but I must be going now, and I'm certain that your mother is waiting for you as well at home." He walked the young boy to the top of stairs and patted him on the back. "Enjoy your book now…and don't forget to return it on time."
Harry smiled up at the librarian. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Johnson. Maybe I'll see you again sometime."
The older man chuckled. "Why, I'm sure we'll meet again, Harry. Now, off you go…don't be late!" And he waved good-bye to the boy.
Harry waved back and then skipped down the stairs, his book tucked securely under his arm and a huge smile on his face; he could hardly wait to get home and start reading! As the librarian watched the ginger-haired boy exit the building, he pulled his gold watch back out of his vest pocket. Mr. Johnson glanced down briefly the watch, rocked back on his heels and then smiled serenely.
"Now we're certain to meet again, Harriman Nelson; you can be sure of that." And with that, Rupert Pem pressed the activation button on the side of his time travel device….and vanished!