14. Chapter 14 Eli #2
It's the same building.
It somehow feels entirely different.
Mrs. Davis looks up as I step inside.
"Well, hello, firefighter."
"Afternoon."
She smiles knowingly.
"You're looking for Maggie."
I don't bother denying it.
"I am."
She points toward the office at the back of the building.
"I believe she's trying to convince three grant applications to cooperate."
"How's that going?"
Mrs. Davis laughs.
"I've heard less spirited conversations during city council meetings."
I thank her and continue down the hallway.
The office door is open.
Maggie sits behind her desk surrounded by notebooks, legal pads, library brochures, and enough sticky notes to wallpaper the room. She is wearing a pair of baby blue-framed glasses, and a pencil is tucked carelessly behind one ear while she studies something on her computer screen.
She doesn't notice me immediately. She is too busy muttering to herself.
"No, that's due in September... this one needs matching funds..."
I knock softly against the doorframe.
She looks up.
For a second, surprise crosses her face.
Then she smiles.
"Hi."
"Hi."
She glances at the clock.
"I thought you'd be at work."
"I was."
"And now you're here."
"I am."
She studies me for a moment before looking around the office.
"I'm afraid I can't offer much hospitality today. The budget crisis has taken over every available flat surface."
"I noticed."
I step inside carefully, avoiding a stack of folders balanced on the floor.
"This looks serious."
"It is."
She leans back in her chair and sighs.
"I met with the town's unofficial Tuesday lunch club."
"The one at Sweetwater?"
Her eyebrows rise.
"You know about them?"
"I've lived here most of my life."
"Fair point."
A little of the tension leaves her shoulders.
"They've already offered to help organize a Friends of the Library group."
"That was quick."
"I was expecting to ask for ideas."
She laughs softly.
"They started assigning jobs before I finished explaining the problem."
I can't help smiling.
"That sounds like Cedar Hollow."
"It really does."
For a moment, neither of us says anything.
I think about Captain Reyes.
About the newspaper.
About the people around the kitchen table this morning.
Then I ask the question that's been waiting all day.
"What do you need?"
Maggie blinks.
"I beg your pardon?"
"What do you need?"
She studies me carefully, as though trying to decide whether I'm asking out of politeness.
I'm not.
"I've heard a lot today about everything that's wrong," I continue. "I've heard about budget cuts, grants, volunteers, and city council meetings."
I shrug.
"What I haven't heard is what you need."
She is quiet for several seconds.
When she finally speaks, her voice is softer.
"Nobody's asked me that."
The words catch me off guard.
"They've asked what the library needs," she says. "They've asked how much money we need. They've asked what the council is doing."
She smiles, although it looks a little tired.
"But you're the first person who's asked what I need."
"I wasn't trying to be original."
"I know."
Her eyes meet mine.
"That's why it matters."
She reaches for a legal pad, studies the page for a moment, and then looks back at me.
"I need people."
I nod once.
"What kind of people?"
"The kind who know this town."
She smiles a little wider now.
"The kind who know business owners, church groups, civic clubs, Little League coaches, and families who would volunteer if someone simply asked."
I can't help it.
I grin.
"I know a few of those."
"I was hoping you might."
Maggie slides a yellow legal pad across the desk.
At the top of the page she has written Friends of the Cedar Hollow Library in large block letters. Beneath it are columns of names, ideas, and arrows connecting one thought to another. The page is busy enough that it reminds me of a fire scene map.
I read through the list slowly.
"Business sponsors."
She nods.
"Community events."
Another nod.
"Volunteers."
"I'm hoping for a lot of those."
I continue reading until I reach the bottom of the page.
"Grant applications."
She leans back in her chair.
"I've already started three."
I whistle softly.
"You're planning to stay busy."
"I don't really have another option."
Her smile is small but determined.
"If the council votes next month, I don't have time to wait for someone else to save the library."
I look around the office. Stacks of folders. Calendar pages covered with notes. A bulletin board crowded with ideas.
She's trying to carry an entire campaign by herself.
The realization reminds me of something Captain Reyes said that morning.
People trust firefighters because we show up. Communities survive because everybody does.
I tap the legal pad with one finger.
"You're missing something."
Her eyebrows rise.
"I am?"
"You're asking businesses to help."
"Yes."
"You're asking volunteers to help."
"Yes."
"You're asking the town council to help."
"Eventually."
I shake my head.
"I think you're forgetting the people who organize this town."
She studies me.
"I'm not sure I follow."
I pull one of the empty chairs away from the wall and sit down.
"Cedar Hollow has two Rotary clubs, three churches that do community projects every month, a Lions Club, the volunteer firefighters' auxiliary, the high school FFA chapter, and enough civic groups to build a parade from scratch."
Her pencil stops moving.
"I didn't know there were that many."
"Most people don't."
I smile.
"They're too busy working."
She laughs quietly.
"I've been trying to convince a few business owners to help."
"Business owners write checks."
I nod toward the library.
"Those groups bring people."
The room grows quiet.
I can almost see the idea taking shape in her mind.
"Volunteers," she says.
"Dozens."
She looks back at the legal pad.
"They could staff events."
"They could set up."
"They could sell tickets."
"They could build things."
I grin.
"Now you're thinking like Cedar Hollow."
She studies me for another moment.
"I had no idea you knew all this."
"I've spent a lot of years responding to emergencies."
I shrug.
"You learn who's always first to show up."
The smile she gives me this time is different. Not amused. Not grateful. Respectful.
"I think I may have underestimated you."
"I get that a lot."
She laughs.
"I doubt that."
For a moment we simply look at one another.
The office grows quiet again.
Then Maggie tears a clean sheet from the legal pad and writes a single heading across the top.
People to Call
She turns the page toward me and slides a pen across the desk.
"All right, firefighter."
The corners of her mouth lift.
"Show me your town."