Steinbeck’s Ghost by Lewis Buzbee Read Free Book Online Page A

forever to go through the entire collection. The library hosted book clubs, cultural celebrations—Travis loved the Day of the Dead festivities in the fall and the Chinese New Year celebrations in February—and readings by authors, both published and unpublished, sometimes readings by local school kids.
    When the man in the fancy suit spoke, he talked about the library as a quiet place, a bit of relief from the bustle of everyday life. Not simply, he said, because Miss Babb was always shushing him—Miss Babb blushed now—but because it wasn’t about buying things. The library was quiet in a lot of ways, and the man in the suit appreciated that.
    Miss Babb took notes the whole time.
    Then it was Travis’s turn. He thought everything that could be said about the library had been. He took a sip of fizzy water.
    “I like the way the books feel,” he said. He told the committee what he’d thought about while reading
The Pastures of Heaven
, how a library book connected you to strangers, not just the writer, but to all those people who had read the book before you.
    He hadn’t thought ahead; the words came to him when he spoke.
    He also wanted to tell them about how coming to the library last week had been so important to him, how it made him feel at home again. But he stopped himself. This meeting was about the library, not about Travis, and those thoughts were personal anyway. He wanted to stay focused on what was best for the library, and then he was proud of himself for being so mature. He simply said thanks, and he was done.
    “My name is Constancia Espinoza,” Hil’s mother said. “I was born in Salinas. My grandparents were farmworkers, my parents, too, and so was I for a long time. It was very hard for my family to keep us kids in school. So I learned to read at this library. I learned to read at the same time as my son.” She turned to Hil, who was beaming. “Every day someone here is learning to read. The Resource Center helped me with career counseling, and because of that, I got a better job. And because of that, we now own our own home. There are so many of us in this valley—mostly we speak Spanish, but some who spoke English first, too—who want to learn how to read, to make better lives for our families. That’s why we have to save the library. Gracias.”
    There were a few tears in the corners of her eyes when she finished.
    Hil was the last to go. He talked about his mom a little bit, telling everyone that learning to read at the same time as his mom wasn’t only about a better job. It was a lot of fun, too.
    And then he told everyone about
A Wrinkle in Time
. He told them all about Bella Linda Terrace, and how it was like Camazotz. It was Travis’s idea, he said, but he would never have known that about where he lived if it weren’t for that book. He told them about the afternoon on the porch when he and Travis invented the Camazotz video game and handshake. He wanted everyone to know that books weren’t just about wasting time, or because some teacher made you read. “Books,” Hil said, “help you see the world better.”
    At first Travis was surprised that Hil had spilled their big secret, but while he was talking, Travis saw that everyone there was nodding and laughing—Hil was always funny, he couldn’t be unfunny—and Travis figured the library was the best place of all to talk about Camazotz.
    Everyone at the table, absolutely everyone, had read and loved
A Wrinkle in Time
. Some had read the book when they were kids, and some had read it as adults. Travis’s father and mother often read his books when he was finished with them, but he always assumed that was just his parents being weird; he loved the idea of other grown- ups reading kids’ books. Soon the whole room was talking about Madeleine L’Engle and what a great writer she was. Jack Ray made Hil and Travis stand up and show them the handshake. Everyone laughed.
    “And with that,” Miss Babb said. “Let’s take a