Chapter 11
Stella placed the carved box on the counter and flipped open the lid. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated on a book.
But not just any book. On the book that wanted to be found by her. Her chest tingled as though she stood in a beam of sunshine, and she opened her eyes.
Shamrock-green words twirled and leaped across the counter. Free-spirited. Mischievous young boy. Ageless. Jack stared at them. It unsettled her that he could see the words too. The letters danced into the air as Stella left the
circulation desk and headed toward the children’s section.
“Where are you going?” Jack asked, following her across the foyer and stopping halfway.
“I’ll be back,” she said, shooing him away. “Guard the precious stamp and ink pad!” Her voice held a teasing tone, and Jack
frowned.
In the children’s section, Stella scanned the titles until she found Peter Pan.
Had she really been looking at Peter Pan in the archives the other night?
An image of the young boy leaping off the table appeared in her mind.
She flipped to the back of the book and saw there was already a due date card tucked inside its sleeve.
She slid out the card. The most recent date was from a little longer than two weeks ago.
Stella pressed the book against her chest.
The idea that she could bring fictional characters to life felt intoxicating. What book nerd hadn’t dreamed of such a possibility?
But what would having this kind of magic—this kind of power—mean? How could it be contained, controlled? Or would it be unwieldy? The bigger question was: Would it work if she tested
it?
A prickling started behind her eyes and fireworked into her head. Brown, stiff-moving words appeared from a shelf and plummeted
to the floor. Sailor. Castaway. Tropical island. Then an image of the book cover of Robinson Crusoe appeared in her mind. Stella quickly detoured to the fiction section and searched for a copy. This book, too, already had
a library due date card in the back. How many characters had Arnie brought to life over the years?
Stella returned to the circulation desk where Jack stood waiting with his arms crossed over his chest, an expression of impatience
marring his handsome face. She placed both books on the desk.
“Remind me how this works,” she said.
Jack’s scowl deepened. “This isn’t a good idea. You should talk to Arnie first.”
She flipped open the ink pad and picked up the stamp. She rotated the dials on the bottom of the rubber stamp so the date
was two weeks from today, and then she looked at Jack.
“Arnie was going to tell me about this anyway, so what’s the harm in testing it? Tell me how this works. Please,” she added in hopes of convincing him.
Jack reached for the stamp, but Stella stretched her hand as far away from him as she could.
“This isn’t a joke, Stella.”
A line creased between his brows, and she felt an urge to rub it away with her thumb. She gripped the stamp tighter instead.
“Who’s joking?” she asked. “If Arnie’s done this before, and clearly he has”—she pointed at Jack—“then it can’t be that bad.
Besides, what if it doesn’t even work for me? What if you have to be the head librarian or some other magical rule nonsense?”
“There are other things you don’t know about,” Jack said.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know everything, but Arnie does. At least talk to him before you do this,” Jack said, his voice pleading.
“Hey,” Vicki called as she entered the foyer from the children’s section. “The festival this weekend takes place in the library,
too, right? Arnie hasn’t told me anything.” She caught sight of the stamp in Stella’s hand. “What have you got there?” She
leaned over the counter and peered down at the ink pad. “Is that a vintage library stamp? Cool, can I see it?”
“No,” Stella and Jack said together.
Vicki looked surprised and leaned away from the counter. “Are you sticking around for a particular reason?” she asked Jack.
“It’s probably visiting hours at the hospital. Don’t you want to go see your friend?”
“Speaking of Arnie,” Stella said, “I’m going to head that way soon. Are you and Dan okay for a while without me?”
“Of course,” Vicki said. “The festival?”
“Yes, sorry. There will be some activities set up in here like last year. I don’t know all the specifics either, but I’ll
ask Arnie today. He’s awake and alert, so I’ll get all the details.”
Vicki eyed the stamp and ink pad again. “I’ll find Dan and have him handle the circulation desk while you’re gone. He’s better
with people.” Vicki turned on her heel and walked off.
Once she was out of sight, Stella flipped Peter Pan to the back cover where the library card was snuggled into the pocket. Should she listen to Jack and wait until she talked
to Arnie? But what if he continued to deflect? She realized this was why he’d been so secretive about the archives. Would he refuse to tell her the truth about the ink pad and stamp? Another
thought creeped into her mind.
“What if Arnie hasn’t told me yet because he doesn’t think I can handle this kind of magic?” Could she? Accepting the words
she saw was one thing, but embracing enchanted magic and fictional characters walking around unleashed the unknown. What else
might exist in her world that she had yet to see? “Do you think I can handle knowing the truth about the library?”
Jack paused and then nodded. “I do.”
She slipped out the card and stamped the ink pad. There was still the chance that this test would fail.
Jack held out his hand. “Stella, give me the stamp. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“You said you believe I can handle it.” He reached for the stamp, but she pressed it to Peter Pan’s card before he could stop her. “Now what? Find sunlight?” She glanced at the back door and saw rays of yellow light pouring
through the windows. She rushed toward the door with the sounds of Jack following her. She shoved open the back door and held
the book out into the light as though extending an offering to a sun god. The ink date glittered and shivered on the paper.
“What happens now? Do I say something like, I wish Peter Pan was—”
“Stop!” Jack demanded. The back of Stella’s neck tingled as though she stood too near exposed electricity. “You can’t bring
him back. He was just here.”
“What?” she asked.
“You can only bring out characters once a year,” Jack said.
“So . . . you can only be here for two weeks once a year? Who made up these rules?” Why did that cramp her heart?
Jack reached slowly for the book. “That’s right.”
She slid Peter Pan from Jack’s reach and asked, “What about Captain Hook?” She stared at the date stamped in blue ink. The ink darkened to an
obsidian color. She waited but nothing happened.
Had she gotten the process out of order? Maybe she should try again. Even though an uneasy feeling skirted beneath her skin,
she returned to the circulation desk and tossed Peter Pan onto the counter. She grabbed Robinson Crusoe, propped it open, and slipped out the library card.
“Any other ridiculous rules you care to share before I test again?”
Jack stood behind her and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I should stop you, but some lessons you need to learn the hard
way. Go ahead and invite another friend. You’re going to have quite a mess at the end of the day.”
Stella stamped Robinson Crusoe’s library card and carried the book to the back door. She held it in the sunlight. “Robinson Crusoe, do you want to be my
friend?” The ink shimmered and deepened in color. Again, nothing happened.
As she returned to the circulation desk, she turned in a full circle and saw no fictional characters wandering around, no
mysterious people lurking near the bookshelves. There was some relief in knowing that there were limits to what was possible.
But a small part of her had wanted to believe in Jack’s crazy story about a magical ink pad and stamp. She wanted to believe
that she could bring the fantastical into her own world. Arnie had obviously done it, hadn’t he? Maybe she lacked the ability
or the capacity to use the magic.
Her face heated with embarrassment. She must look like a naive nitwit to Jack. She went back to the circulation desk and dropped
Robinson Crusoe on top of Peter Pan with a sinking feeling weighing on her. She slammed the ink pad shut and shoved the library cards back into the books. After
tossing the library stamp into its box along with the ink pad, she roughly returned everything to the bottom drawer and out
of sight.
“For a second, I believed your story about the hocus-pocus ink pad. Maybe Arnie is good enough to do something special, but,
big surprise, I’m not.”
Jack gripped the back of his neck. “Just wait, Stella. You’ll see what you’ve done. And Arnie won’t be here to help you.”
She held open her hands and motioned to the library around her. “There’s so much chaos in here right now.” As soon as she
said the words, the hairs lifted from the back of her neck and on her scalp. She darted her gaze around the library, but nothing—other
than her heartbeat—had changed.
“Your sarcasm is not amusing,” Jack said. “You’ll be eating crow before you know it.”
Unease slinked around her, and Stella smoothed her hands down her skirt. “I’m going to go see Arnie.” She grabbed her purse.
Beneath her sandals, aqua words rose up from between the floor tiles like water pushing up from an underground spring. Attraction. Hope. Anticipation. Her eyes widened. Would the embarrassment never end? She lifted her gaze to Jack’s face. He appeared as flustered by the
words as she was.
She blurted, “I have no idea what those words mean.”
“I have an idea,” he said quietly.
Stella clenched her jaw. “Maybe it would be best if you aren’t here when I get back.”
Jack’s wounded expression created a swift desire to retract her words.
“And where should I go, Stella? You know I can’t leave the library.”
The aqua words waved across the floor between them and crashed onto Jack’s shoes before disappearing.