It was easy sneaking into the library, thanks to the basement window. Sylvie remembered Sebastian telling her over the summer that he had noticed the window when Dad brought him to the library. Sebastian joked at the time that he dreamt of sneaking into the library after hours through that window, so he could spend the night reading all those books by himself. Sylvie had laughed and said that if she had to be stuck anywhere, it would be the mall, not a musty old library that reminded her of school.
“Looks like you finally got your wish,” Sylvie said as Sebastian inched his way in through the small window. “Once you’re inside, head upstairs, then let me in the side door.”
“I don’t know about this, Sylvie,” Sebastian said. “What if an alarm goes off?”
“You think this Podunk town has money to put an alarm in the library?” Sylvie laughed.
Sebastian smirked.
Sylvie shined the flashlight through the window. “Be careful,” she said. “Looks like there’s a table below the window you can climb onto. Once you climb on it, I’ll give you the flashlight. Then you can go to the side door and let me in.”
“Okay,” Sebastian said with his best brave face. He crawled through the basement window and landed on the table. He reached up for the flashlight, then set out on the mission.
Sylvie watched as the light from his flashlight moved. When it was out of sight, she went to the side door, climbing up the three cement stairs in front of it, and waited.
The night was silent except for the hoot of an owl. All the shops on Main Street had closed at eight. She reached into her pocket, grabbing the crumpled-up bag of M&M’s Sebastian had given her on the way to the library. The rush of sugar was keeping her headache and visions at bay for the moment.
“Sylvie.”
Sebastian’s voice startled her. She looked at the door—it was still shut. “Sebastian?”
“Look, the window is open. Just crawl through it.” He peeked his head out the window next to the door.
“Well, will you look at that?” she said. “I guess you didn’t even have to slip into that tiny basement window after all.”
“So come through it,” Sebastian said. “This way, we’re only entering, not breaking, right? I mean, if I open the door, is that breaking, or do I have to really break something?”
Sylvie laughed. “Don’t overthink it,” she said, then added, “I don’t know if I can reach that window. Can’t you just open the door?”
“No, there might be an alarm on it.” Sebastian said.
Sylvie sighed, then climbed over the railing and into the window.
She jumped down onto the library floor, coughing from the dust that scattered. “I don’t see why you just couldn’t open it. I don’t see any alarm.” she said as she grabbed his flashlight and shone it on the door.
“The window’s more fun.” Sebastian smirked.
She gave him a playful punch to the arm.
“Okay,” she said, “Let’s get to it. I want to get in and out.”
“What are we looking for?”
“We need the microfiche.”
“The microfiche?”
“Yeah, you know that thing that lights up old newspaper articles? If there was a fire in this town, there’s got to be an article on it, right?”
“Oh, that thing. I forgot about that. We had to use it in school for a research report once.”
“Sebastian, how can you not know what a microfiche is? You practically live in the library.”
“I only like fiction.” He grinned.
Sylvie smiled. “Let’s go, Mr. Smarty Pants,” she said.
Sebastian took the flashlight back from her and shined it ahead of them as they walked.
The smell of paper and books filled Sylvie’s senses as she noticed how her, and Sebastian’s feet made small shuffle noises as they walked. The library looked mysterious at night. It made Sylvie’s heart want to race, so she kept her eyes focused on the light from Sebastian’s flashlight to stay focused.
As they walked, Sebastian shined it all around, lighting up the books in the corners and the magazine racks to their right. Then he shined it on the checkout counter as they kept walking past.
Sylvie couldn’t help but notice how strange it felt to not see the librarian there.
“What if someone else is in here?” Sebastian asked.
“Why do you say that?” Sylvie asked, popping an M&M in her mouth.
“The window, duh,” Sebastian said.
“Listen, the window is just open because the librarian was probably too lazy to shut it or just forgot. That’s all.”
Sebastian shrugged.
“There they are,” Sylvie said, pointing to the microfiche in the corner of the room.
“We need the card catalogue first, right?” Sebastian said. “To find which microfilm we need?”
“Good point.”
They walked over to the card catalogue.
“I’ll hold the flashlight while you look,” Sylvie said, grabbing the flashlight from him.
Sebastian didn’t argue. Sylvie figured that was because he knew he was the most experienced one at the library. “What am I looking for?” he asked as he opened up the card catalogue.
“Local newspapers from 1972. That’s the year we need.”
“We’re going to look at all of them?”
“Just our local paper, but yes, we have to look at as many issues as we can.”
Sebastian thumbed through the cards for what felt like forever. Sylvie grew tired of holding the flashlight.
“Got it,” Sebastian finally said, taking out a card. He held it up for her to see. “The Lowridge Journal, 1972.” He flapped the card in the air. “Follow me.” He took the flashlight back from Sylvie and led the way.
“See? I knew you’d be better at this than me,” Sylvie said.
Sebastian led her to the microfilm, where they found the specific one they needed. Sebastian handed it to Sylvie, who made her way back to the table with the microfiche machines. She turned one on, inserted the film on the tray, set the glass cover over it, and pushed it in. She magnified the screen to see it easier. Lowridge Journal written in bold italics glowed from the top of the screen.
“Okay,” Sylvie said. “Here goes nothing.” She hit the FORWARD button on the machine as newspaper articles from 1972 passed by them.
They sat in silence as they scrolled past the articles. Old advertisements for stores that had since closed, and town events long past rolled by. Election results, horoscopes, old weather reports, and stories about local heroes, accidents, and national news dazzled them both.
“Look,” Sebastian said. “There’s an article about Atari! Isn’t that cool! ‘Atari introduces arcade version of Pong!’” he read with a smile.
“That is cool,” Sylvie said. “Crazy, right? We don’t even play Atari now that we have a Nintendo.” She hit the FORWARD button again, moving through more news articles. Her eyes were blurring. She worried they would not find anything. What if they didn’t? She was running out of ideas.
“Wait. Stop. There! Go back!” Sebastian said.
Sylvie hit the BACK button. Had she missed something?
“There. Right there.” Sebastian leaned over and magnified the screen again as he read, “‘Local farm on Stoney Brook Road went up in flames on Saturday night. No cause to the fire has been uncovered, however, two local town residents, ages 60 and 58, respectively, lost their lives, leaving one child, age 15, orphaned.’” Sebastian stopped reading, then said, “I thought you said he was a little boy?”
“Maybe that’s not it,” Sylvie said, rubbing her head. The light from the microfiche machine was bringing her headache back.
“Well, some boys are short.” Sebastian laughed. “Like me.”
“I suppose.” She smiled. “Seriously, though, it was dark in the closet. And you’ve got to remember, Sebastian, I’d just time jumped and there was an angry man outside. Maybe I wasn’t seeing things clearly.”
Sebastian thought for a moment as he reread the article to himself. “You know,” he finally said, “if your brain is linked to his, and you jumped to his memory, maybe he still felt like a little boy, you know? Like, you saw him as he feels?”
Sylvie shrugged. “That makes sense,” she said.
“So now what?” he asked.
“Go to Stoney Brook Road?” Sylvie suggested.
Before Sebastian could answer, a loud crash clanged throughout the library. The microfiche machine abruptly shut off; its hum silenced by a sudden gust of wind that blew a pile of papers off a nearby table. The papers swirled in the air as if stuck in a tornado.
“What was that?” Sebastian whispered.
Sylvie grabbed his hand. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe a storm is coming?”
Sebastian squeezed her hand tight. They sat in silence, too terrified to move.
After a second, Sylvie grabbed the flashlight, its cold metal pressing against her palm. She flicked it on, shining it over the expanse of the library, then to the window. Slender shadows from dancing branches from the tree outside cascaded onto the wall. The gentle sound of rain falling on the windowsill filled the silence.
“It’s just a storm,” she said. “Still, we should go.” Sylvie tried to yank her hand away from Sebastian, but his sweaty grip held hers tight.
“Sylvie,” Sebastian said.
The flashlight shut off. Sylvie tried to flick it back on, but it was dead.
Across the room, a dark shadow moved through the moonlight, then disappeared.
Sylvie felt a rush of cold air brush past them.
Then, in one swoop, the microfiche flew off the table, as if an invisible force had pushed it.
“Sylvie,” Sebastian said again. “Make it stop!”
Sylvie’s heart raced as her watch surged with heat. She looked down at it, noticing the way its hands erratically spun faster than she’d ever seen them spin before. Sylvie gripped Sebastian’s hand tighter as she thought about June. She wished warning June would have worked. When would this nightmare be over? The shadow swooped up to the ceiling. It moved in fast circles around them, before inching closer.
“I’ve got you,” she said as she squeezed Sebastian’s hand tight. Go, go, she thought, without considering any of the rules.
The shadow flew toward them.
In a glimpse, they were gone.