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

break. We’ve got an awful lot of. cookies to eat.”

    After the break, Miss Babb took over. She explained the library’s predicament as clearly as she could; it cost the city more than eight million dollars a year to fund the library, and there was no longer any money for that. Travis could tell by all the head- nodding and long sighs around the table that everyone knew what was going on. And they were obviously not pleased.
    Miss Babb changed gears quickly. Yes, the outlook was grim, but there was no time to dwell on that, that would get them nowhere. There was work to be done.
    First, she told them, they had to raise money, anything they could get to keep the library open, even if only for an extra day. Every day the library was open meant it wasn’t closed. And second, they had to raise awareness, had to let everyone in Salinas, and all over the world, know about the impending doom. Publicity was key.
    Travis was nodding now, his frustration falling away as a sense of hope for the library came into Miss Babb’s voice. Of course, Travis thought, if everyone everywhere knew, they would not let the library close. He was amazed that his feelings could swing so quickly, and simply because of words.
    “I have two words for you,” Miss Babb said. “John Steinbeck. This is, after all, the John Steinbeck Library. We cannot overlook that. With that name behind us, people have to pay attention. We’re very lucky about that.” There was more nodding and jotting on pads of paper. “Readers around the world love his books. Clearly,
his
library—by which I mean ours—cannot be closed.”
    Travis thought of all the tourists who tramped through Salinas looking for Steinbeck’s places and characters. If everyone who’d ever read a Steinbeck book would just send in one dollar, Salinas could build a library as big as a football stadium. It was a crazy idea, he knew, but just maybe … He started to put up his hand. No, it really was a crazy idea.
    Miss Babb wanted them all to know that the Save Our Library committee was not alone, that it was only one of many committees getting to work on the problem. The library’s director and administration were working hard with the city to find a solution—cutting hours, cutting staff and services, anything to stay open. Rally Salinas, which Miss Babb called an “umbrella organization,” would coordinate the different committees and spearhead the publicity drive. The National Steinbeck Center would help, too. Travis imagined all the other people at all the other tables around town, everyone nodding and sighing and being frustrated and hopeful.
    “But you all,” she said, “you are the people who actually use the library, so it’s important that your voices be heard. The voices of the readers.”
    “What do we do first?” Travis asked. He hadn’t really meant to say anything, but now seemed a good time, and he felt that if he didn’t say something, his head was going to explode.
    “You always ask the right question, Mr. Williams. I count on you for that.” Miss Babb smiled at him.
    She handed out flyers with all the news on them, along with the phone numbers and e-mail addresses of the mayor and the city council. Committee members should pass out flyers to anyone who would take them and urge people to contact the city government. This was the first wave of publicity, but it was only the beginning.
    What about money? Couldn’t they raise money? A bake sale, a book sale, a garage sale? The questions were flying.
    “Absolutely,” Miss Babb said. “Who’s going to volunteer?”
    Hil’s hand shot up.
    “Me and T,” he said. “We can do a car wash. Three bucks a pop.”
    Travis did the math. Or close enough.
    “But we’d have to wash three million cars.”
    “Fine, five bucks,” Hil said. “And that’s not the point. No way we can raise that much money. But we go out on the corner, and some people stop and get their cars washed. That can’t hurt.
And
everybody sees