Standing for Weirdo

Chapter 36

We entered the library hand in hand, attracting more than a cursory glance from the librarian.

“Hi,” I said, walking over with a smile against her disapproving frown. “We wanted to check the journal archives and any other source you’d have for local history in the early 20th century.” Flashing her my student id card, I added, “It’s for a school project.”

“School project” worked like a charm. The kind of things adults believe when the words “school project” are thrown at them is astounding, as if it were an alternate, dangerous and infectious reality. The knee-jerk reaction suited us fine and the woman, a slim and elegant lady I’d not have pegged as a bookworm, took us to the periodicals section of the library.

It was dark, dank, and claustrophobic, with rows of steel shelves holding binders with dusty, discolored journals from days past. If we had to look through it all, it could take us the best part of the week.

“This shelf,” she said, pointing at one in particular. “You’ll find the binders coded by year and paper.”

“And the papers are whole?” Trevor asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thank you.”

She nodded and left. I looked around for a chair to toss my bag and jacket, but there was nothing so I just piled it in a corner, hoping that it was dust free. Trevor did the same thing.

“We should probably split the search,” Trevor suggested.

“That’s a good idea. Let’s try the first decades, see if we can find something about their arrival or something.”

I took a 1901. He pulled 1911 free. We started to pore over the faded print and frail papers. Since they were local journals, the news you could find was much more picturesque than anything in a national tirade. Actually, I think it was more picturesque than the current local papers. Balls, marriages, someone destroying someone else’s flowerbeds…

The only good news about the uninteresting reports was the certainty that the arrival of the English family wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.

The letters started to dance in front of my eyes after two hours and three bindings. My eyes were bloodshot and I started to think that this archive would swallow us whole, never allowing us to see the light of day again. But then, Trevor's voice broke the silence.

“There’s something here. A party to introduce their daughter to society.”

I snapped my eyes to his. “What’s her name?”

“Helen,” he smirked. “But at least we know the family existed.” He scanned the brief article for a moment longer. “Check year 1907.”

I put down my binding and struggled to free the correct year. “Any idea about the month?”

“Nope. That’s too much to ask.”

So he kept working his way forward for any relevant mention and I started to study the papers for the beginning of the story.

I was nearly reaching the end of the year when it glared at me out of the page, a huge title in bold with a picture and two columns of narrow print.