An Imperfect Librarian by Elizabeth Murphy

together. God love him. He was working on a book. He’d say, Edie dear, tell me the truth, Edie, what do you think of this title? My favourite was Memories of a Silent Voice: The Written Tradition in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century Rural Newfoundland. He used to travel to the outports collecting every scrap of written material he could put his eyes on: diaries, ships’ logs, journals, pamphlets, store ledgers, notebooks, letters, you name it.”
    The waitress interrupts. We study the menu: deep-fried cod, deep-fried shrimp, deep-fried cod tongues, deep-fried chicken, deep-fried squid, deep-fried onion rings. We place our order.
    â€œHave I ever seen Mr. Myrick in the library?”
    â€œNot unless you’re seeing ghosts,” she says. “You might hear stories about him though.”
    â€œYou mean he was a saint with a sin?”
    â€œI didn’t bother signing things out for him when he came to the archives. I knew what he had. He liked to work in the evening. We closed at five so he’d bring home what he needed. He’d been coming to the archives for years. He donated huge amounts of materials. They didn’t know him in the Reading Room like I did. Students take care of the dealings with the customers nowadays. Part-timers, most of them are. They don’t know our regulars. We’ll all be replaced by students sooner or later. God help us.”
    The waitress returns with our drinks, fish and chips. Edith waves to people.
    â€œSo what was his sin?”
    An Imper fect Librarian
    â€œHe was working in the Reading Room at the time. At the end of the day, he dropped whatever he was working on into his briefcase then walked out the door. He didn’t go far. The alarm nearly gave him a heart attack. He told me that on the phone after. The student-clerk tried to take his briefcase. William smacked him right across the head with it. He wasn’t allowed within fifty feet of the campus after that. It’s a shame. You know another thing that’s a shame? You sitting so far from me. Move over closer. Don’t be so unfriendly.”
    The bartender calls out, “Happy Hour, five to seven.”
    â€œThat’s Great Big Sea’s music,” Edith says. “You can’t live in Newfoundland and not be a fan. I’ll buy you a CD.” She sings along in a high-pitched voice that pays more attention to clear diction than melody. She nudges closer to me, drops her head to touch my shoulder then smiles. “We should do this more often. Why don’t we try going out together for a while?”
    â€œI’m not interested in dating right now. Why don’t you speak to Henry?”
    â€œDon’t insult me, please,” she says.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with Henry?”
    She adds salt and vinegar to her chips. “You should know. You spend enough time with him.”
    â€œI rely on him for advice and–”
    â€œDon’t let yourself be influenced by him. When administration announced they were advertising the digital systems position, he threatened to stage a one-man strike. If he had his way, you wouldn’t be here.”
    The steam is rising off the gravy. I grab a chip and pop it in my mouth. “I don’t blame him for feeling threatened. If the Internet takes off, eventually we won’t need Information Services Librarians anymore. We’ll have interactive support built into the software with the searching capacity and skill of thousands–”
    â€œThe only thing Henry should feel threatened by is the administration. If they could be rid of him, they would. If he’s not careful, he’ll give them grounds that even the union won’t be able to help him with.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œHe’s rude to the students. If they don’t know what he thinks they should, he insults them. Remember our creed. A is for access, B is for borrowing, U is for understanding. We’re expected to have as