Read Online The Grimm Legacy by Polly Shulman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Polly Shulman
Tags: United States, Fiction, General, Humorous stories, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Children's Books, Fantasy, People & Places, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Literary Criticism, Ages 9-12 Fiction, New York (N.Y.), Love & Romance, Children: Grades 4-6, Adventure and Adventurers, Adventure stories, Teenage girls, High school students, Fairy Tales, Children's Literature, Books & Libraries, Folklore, Libraries
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that’s ephemera, on Stack 3. Well, the paper towels are. Lightbulbs are in various places. Some are on 5, Tools and Scientific Instruments; some are on 9, Household Goods.”
“Oh, okay. But what are fungibles?”
“Plants and animals.”
“What? You’re kidding! Is this like a zoo or something? Can people check out, like, a giraffe?”
“I doubt it,” said Anjali with a grin. “I don’t think we have any giraffes in the collection. If we did, they’d be in the annex anyway.”
“What’s the annex?”
“Off-site oversize storage. Those are call slips that start with *A. Like, here’s one—oops, no, that’s a *V.”
“What’s a *V?”
“Valuable items. They’re kept on the same stack as the rest of the things in their category. Pages aren’t allowed to run those slips. Only librarians have the keys, so send *V call slips to Stack 6.”
“Oh, right—like Marie Antoinette’s wig?” I asked. “Ms. Callender showed me, in a locked room on Stack 2.”
“Exactly.”
I routed a request for a teapot to Stack 9, one for a guitar to Stack 4, and three for hats to Stack 2.
It took me a while to get the hang of the tubes themselves. I kept snapping the doors on my thumb. Eventually, though, I fell into a sort of meditative rhythm. My hands flew peacefully from basket to tube. The hiss and clatter and creak of the machines began to feel like forest sounds: the rush of a waterfall, the rustle of leaves, the chatter of squirrels. Out of the corners of my eyes, I seemed to see things moving in the stained-glass windows—birds, branches, water—though I knew that was impossible.
A call slip beginning *WB landed in the basket. “What’s *WB?” I asked Anjali.
“That’s the Wells Bequest—next door to the Grimm Collection. Send it down to the Dungeon—Stack 1.”
The Dungeon again. That was obviously where they kept the most interesting stuff. “What’s in the Wells Bequest?” I asked.
Anjali took a deep breath and looked sideways. I could tell she was preparing to not answer my question, so I said quickly, “Dr. Rust told me the Grimm Collection is full of things the Brothers Grimm found when they were collecting fairy tales.” I hoped Anjali would take that as permission to talk. “Is the Wells Bequest more fairy-tale stuff?”
It worked. “Sort of—it’s science fiction,” she said. “It’s named after H. G. Wells, who wrote The Time Machine. ”
“Oh—so what’s in the bequest? Is there, like, a time machine?” I joked.
Marc overheard me. He glared at Anjali from the desk. She got cagey.
“It’s hard to say. I don’t know anybody who’s tried it,” she said.
“Tried what?”
“The time machine.”
“So there is a time machine?” That was crazy. “What else is in there?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, lots of things. That’s really Aaron’s department. You should ask him about it if you’re interested. He’s kind of a science-fiction expert.”
Like Aaron would tell me anything! “Okay, but what’s the collection all about? Is it stuff that inspired famous science-fiction books?”
“Yes, exactly! That kind of thing.”
“Why’s it called the Wells Bequest? Did the objects used to belong to H. G. Wells?”
“A few of them, but there are other things too.”
“Like what?”
“Shrink rays and miniature rockets and so forth.”
That had to be a joke. “Do they work?” I asked, playing along.
“Well, the rockets work. It’s not hard to make a miniature rocket. I made one myself last year, for the science fair.”
“What about the shrink rays?”
“What do you think?”
“What else is down there?”
“Where, the Dungeon? Well, there’s the Garden of Seasons. And the Gibson Chrestomathy and the Lovecraft Corpus. They’re both fairly recent additions.”
Marc came over to our station. “You’re telling her about that?” he said to Anjali. He sounded alarmed.
“It’s okay, Merritt—Doc already told her about the Grimm
“Oh, okay. But what are fungibles?”
“Plants and animals.”
“What? You’re kidding! Is this like a zoo or something? Can people check out, like, a giraffe?”
“I doubt it,” said Anjali with a grin. “I don’t think we have any giraffes in the collection. If we did, they’d be in the annex anyway.”
“What’s the annex?”
“Off-site oversize storage. Those are call slips that start with *A. Like, here’s one—oops, no, that’s a *V.”
“What’s a *V?”
“Valuable items. They’re kept on the same stack as the rest of the things in their category. Pages aren’t allowed to run those slips. Only librarians have the keys, so send *V call slips to Stack 6.”
“Oh, right—like Marie Antoinette’s wig?” I asked. “Ms. Callender showed me, in a locked room on Stack 2.”
“Exactly.”
I routed a request for a teapot to Stack 9, one for a guitar to Stack 4, and three for hats to Stack 2.
It took me a while to get the hang of the tubes themselves. I kept snapping the doors on my thumb. Eventually, though, I fell into a sort of meditative rhythm. My hands flew peacefully from basket to tube. The hiss and clatter and creak of the machines began to feel like forest sounds: the rush of a waterfall, the rustle of leaves, the chatter of squirrels. Out of the corners of my eyes, I seemed to see things moving in the stained-glass windows—birds, branches, water—though I knew that was impossible.
A call slip beginning *WB landed in the basket. “What’s *WB?” I asked Anjali.
“That’s the Wells Bequest—next door to the Grimm Collection. Send it down to the Dungeon—Stack 1.”
The Dungeon again. That was obviously where they kept the most interesting stuff. “What’s in the Wells Bequest?” I asked.
Anjali took a deep breath and looked sideways. I could tell she was preparing to not answer my question, so I said quickly, “Dr. Rust told me the Grimm Collection is full of things the Brothers Grimm found when they were collecting fairy tales.” I hoped Anjali would take that as permission to talk. “Is the Wells Bequest more fairy-tale stuff?”
It worked. “Sort of—it’s science fiction,” she said. “It’s named after H. G. Wells, who wrote The Time Machine. ”
“Oh—so what’s in the bequest? Is there, like, a time machine?” I joked.
Marc overheard me. He glared at Anjali from the desk. She got cagey.
“It’s hard to say. I don’t know anybody who’s tried it,” she said.
“Tried what?”
“The time machine.”
“So there is a time machine?” That was crazy. “What else is in there?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, lots of things. That’s really Aaron’s department. You should ask him about it if you’re interested. He’s kind of a science-fiction expert.”
Like Aaron would tell me anything! “Okay, but what’s the collection all about? Is it stuff that inspired famous science-fiction books?”
“Yes, exactly! That kind of thing.”
“Why’s it called the Wells Bequest? Did the objects used to belong to H. G. Wells?”
“A few of them, but there are other things too.”
“Like what?”
“Shrink rays and miniature rockets and so forth.”
That had to be a joke. “Do they work?” I asked, playing along.
“Well, the rockets work. It’s not hard to make a miniature rocket. I made one myself last year, for the science fair.”
“What about the shrink rays?”
“What do you think?”
“What else is down there?”
“Where, the Dungeon? Well, there’s the Garden of Seasons. And the Gibson Chrestomathy and the Lovecraft Corpus. They’re both fairly recent additions.”
Marc came over to our station. “You’re telling her about that?” he said to Anjali. He sounded alarmed.
“It’s okay, Merritt—Doc already told her about the Grimm
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