Story Time by Edward Bloor Read Free Book Online Page A

call her that, too. Because to object would require her to speak, which she does not do. Pogo's sections are history and the applied sciences."
    As they descended more stairs, he added, "Here's an interesting tidbit, George: Pogo and my wife, Cornelia, both grew up in this building. Pogo's father was the custodian here for fifty years, until his death."
    George said, "That is interesting," without really seeming to mean it.
    Kate, however, was eager to hear more. A distant glimpse had been enough for Kate to recognize the mysterious figure from two nights before. The woman at the top-floor window, outlined by the fiery red glow; the woman with the snarling power saw. It had been Miss Pogorzelski.
    Dr. Austin described the third and the second floors as "literature and biography, the provinces of Walter Barnes." He then lowered his voice, as if approaching a sleeping zoo animal. "There's Mr. Barnes now."
    Ahead of them, slightly to the right, was an old wooden desk bearing the sign BOOK RETURN . Behind the desk, in a padded chair, was the snoring figure of Walter Barnes. He was dressed in a dark brown, shiny suit. His nearly bald head was resting on a green blotter, on which was spread the half-eaten remains of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They watched him sleep for a few seconds, then moved downstairs again.
    Dr. Austin inhaled deeply as he entered the main lobby, as if to take in its vast expanse. He turned to George and challenged him. "How would you calculate the volume of this great square, George Melvil?"
    "Actually, sir," George replied, "it's a great rectangular prism. To calculate its volume, I would multiply its length times its width times its height."
    Dr. Austin smiled tightly. "Yes, of course. We really must get you into the science fair." He changed the subject. "The first floor is devoted to children's literature. Ten years ago we began a program called Toddler Time; it has evolved into the present Story Time with phonics. This program is, like Test-Based Curriculum, poised to become a model for the entire country."
    Dr. Austin caught his own reflection in the window of the library office. He smoothed his hair and beard. Then he pointed at one last stairwell. "And now, would you like to take a look at your school?"
    Dr. Austin started down to the basement without waiting for a reply. He turned right at the bottom of the stairs and led the way through a hallway of whitewashed cement walls tinged green by fluorescent lighting. He stopped at a room bearing the sign PROTEIN LAB. "This is Mrs. Hodges's kitchen, from which you will receive your delicious and nutritious protein shakes."
    They then walked past a series of classrooms with signs such as MATH
6
and SOCIAL STUDIES 6. Kate thought,
This is it. This is the mushroom farm.
    When Kate spotted a door that said WORKROOM, she spoke for the first time on the tour. "Is this where old Mr. Pogorzelski died?"
    Dr. Austin appeared surprised that Kate was still there. "Yes," he answered cautiously. "Yes, it is. Mr. Pogorzelski died right in this room, on the job."
    "From what?"
    Dr. Austin's eyes shot to the door. "From old age. The poor man was nearly sixty when Pogo was born. He was in his nineties when he died."
    They retraced their steps to the lobby with no further talk and ascended from the basement just as Cornelia, Ma, Pa, and June descended in Elevator #2.
    As they waited for the elevator, Dr. Austin commented, "This building is distinguished both for what you see and for what you don't see."
    Kate was startled by this sudden admission. She mouthed the word, "Ghosts?"
    But Dr. Austin meant something else entirely. "Unlike many formerly great American libraries, this one has not been converted into a flophouse for the homeless."
    The elevator doors opened. Ma, Pa, and June walked out ahead of Cornelia, like robbery victims. Kate and George fell in step with them, and the five family members took off, without another word, toward the exit.

    Kate's brief