Imagine, if you will, a girl with 8 years of life to her credit sitting tense and still in a small white closet built into the white closet built into the wall of her small room. Imagine her short, ruffled brown hair, her small pink mouth parted only enough to let the slightest breath pass, for fear that even that could blow away any connection that might exist between this closet and another world. Her blue eyes are clenched tight, her eyelids the doors between her and reality.

Perhaps you were this child, this pudgy creature who stubbornly hides in her closet, clinging to the hope that there is something beyond the cool plaster pressed unyieldingly against one chipmunk cheek. Perhaps you were a child who did more than hope, you believed.

Unfortunately, after 8 more years of life, our child has grown into a young lady who doesn't even hope anymore, she merely dreams. A young lady who often eats lunch at a blue picnic table in a place called the Canteen.

"Then we have Leah, who'll be an unmarried librarian at age 35." Everyone at the table laughed at the comment, while Leah tucked a long red-brown strand of hair behind one ear and stuck her tongue good naturedly out at the table in general.

"Yeah, Leah, you'll be the pin up for all geeky librarians in America!"

"Nah, Leah's to holy to become a pin-up."

"And there are a few other problems." The original teaser added, smiling cynically while running his gaze over Leah's seated body. She stiffened into a pose and continued to chew. Her squarish baby face didn't even hint at the sting inside as she let her body relax into its usual seated slump. The conversation around her continued on the topic of school until the bell rang a few minutes later, and all the students rushed to the locker rooms to grab books and bags. Leah got a little ahead of th swarm, then paused her swinging walk (friends often teased her about it, but she'd always reply with a sad smile 'I've got more to swing then most people'), to allow one of her table mates to catch up.

"Hey Aquilla." She breathed to her friend. "We still working in the library next period?" Aquilla nodded, smiling one of her big, white toothpaste smiles.

"Yes, after US History." Then the smile faded, and her brown forehead wrinkled. "I hope Raul isn't working today." Aquilla's voice was slightly accented as she spoke, hinting at her European heritage. Leah gave her friend a long, sly stare as they waited for their lockers to clear. She knew full well that Aquilla's bright, flirty personality and tall, athletic figure attracted guys like crazy. Too bad Aquilla'd never met a guy who met her standards. No guy likes a quiet, shy short girl with a figure that was 'in' in the 1800's. I was so born in the wrong century. Leah thought, but all she said aloud was:

"When he finds out you are, he probably will." Many was the time she'd carried love notes and invitations to her friends from male admirers, she could tell. Aquilla rolled her large black eyes in disgust, then deftly turned to spin the dials on her combination lock, while Leah slung her bag onto her back and let out a rather loud, if involuntary, 'ooof' on contact. Her friend slammed her locker and snorted in disgust, brushing a long blonde attachment out of her thin face while loosely holding her history book in the crook of one long arm.

"Leah, why do you have to carry ALL of your books in that bag ALL of the time? You're going to break your back one day."

"If I don't, I'll forget them." Leah grunted, then headed for the history room. Aquilla ran to catch up.

After a very boring history class, the pair entered their very small school library, greeted the attendant, and took their respective stacks of books to return to their places on the shelf. As predicted, a tall, dark young man by the name of Raul did stop by to 'help', and Leah decided to leave him alone with the object of his affection. Aquilla could kill her for it later.

Leah had always loved the library, hence the librarian comments at lunch today. She loved the old smell of books, the thoughtful quiet, and the longing feeling she often got as she walked through the tall shelves, running her fingers over the roughness of the book spines. Her favorite author, C.S. Lewis had called the feeling of longing 'northerness'. He described it as a longing for something, he knew not what, but for something more, something beyond this world, and she knew that she'd had that longing since childhood. One never knew when the feeling would strike: with the reading of a story, a poem, a sight, a touch, a smell, a song. Anything could trigger the longing, and it's intensity also varied, it could be as soft as a kitten's touch, or so hard it was like getting punched in the stomach. Whenever it hit, and however strong it was, Leah relished and loathed the feeling all at once, for when she experienced it, it was both painful and euphoric. When the longing passed, she was only left with a horridly empty and shallow feeling.

"It's like glancing over the plain of eternity." She whispered as she picked up a copy of The Last Battle from her carefully balanced stack of books and smiled. She knew exactly where this book belonged, she'd checked it out enough. As Leah placed the book in its place, she let her fingers trail over the remaining 6, replaying memories of sitting in a closet and dreaming about adventures in the distant land that was really only reachable through these books. All of a sudden, it hit.

"Haaaaah." She struggled to breath against the strongest sense of 'northerness' she'd ever experienced. A lump pushed it's way down her throat, and she pressed a now shaking hand on top of her pile of books to steady them. A cool hand gently touched her quivering arm.

"Leah! Are you ok?" Concerned watery blue eyes stared into Leah's.

"Headache." She explained. Leah'd never told anyone about the 'northerness', they'd probably just laugh.

"C'mon girl, shake it off." Becky's voice shifted from concerned to its usual playful tone.

"Shouldn't you be in study hall?" Leah asked a she straightened to prevent her stack of books from toppling. Becky flipped her curly brown hair behind one shoulder and grinned.

"I'm doing research, duh!"

"On what?" Leah asked in a 'yeah right' sort of way.

"I dunno, I'll figure something out."

"Hmph."

"Hee hee." Becky giggled, as she always did, for no apparent reason.

"Are you high again?" Aquilla teased as she peaked around the corner of one shelf.

"Of course!" Becky replied, still grinning. "Aren't I always?"

"No comment. Hey, where's Raul?" Leah asked, pretending to search the shelf for one of the book addresses. Aquilla glared at her friend.

"He left. Didn't you hear the bell go?"

"Oh, shoot! We're gonna be late for Bible class!" Leah pushed Becky with her free arm. "Let's go, Aquilla!" She was still filled with the longing, and thus highly strung. The other 2 just shrugged it off, they were used to this sort of thing, from each other and her. Together, the trio hurried out of the rows of books.

On exit of the shelves, they all stopped, and a stack of books crashed to the ground, like a shot through the silence of a much bigger library than the one they'd entered.

"W.T.F." Becky blurted. "That wasn't there before." The other 2 remained silent, only staring up, up, through level upon level of floor, towering above their heads. Each level contained what appeared to be a hundred shelves each. What held all of their attention, though, was the very zenith of the library, on the expansive ceiling, was a mural, painted in the deepest, brightest colors, the most graceful brush sweeps, the smallest detail, was a moral containing a silver apple tree, a king and a queen, not beautiful, but good, and most of all, a large, golden lion.

"No way." Leah breathed.

"When do the singing mice come in?" Becky tried to joke.