people’s clothes were outdated. They didn’t wear leisure suits or frilly cravats, but the clothes had a thrift-store quality to them.
He slid the “A” drawer out before remembering that an atlas would be in the reference section. Large signage was a convenient feature of the Innsboro Public Library. He easily found the reference section and a US atlas. David took the book back to one of the tables, opening it to Tennessee as he did.
The lettering on the map was small, but with the additional light from a lamp, David found the highway he’d traveled before turning off on the road to town. He traced the line up from Chattanooga, looking for the cutoff road to the town as he did. His finger crossed the border into North Carolina. The road to town never appeared. He flipped to the town index in the back. Tennessee listed no town named Innsboro. David looked at the date of the atlas. The year 2000 stared up at him in bold, square letters. The atlas was old, but the town was older.
“What are you doing here?” Marsh asked, pushing a cart loaded with books from another room.
David jumped up from the table, slamming the atlas closed. “I was looking up roads out of town.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I tried to get up to the main highway so that I could get a cell phone signal, but a rockslide blocked the road. I figured there has to be another way out of town.”
“There isn’t,” Marsh said.
“So we’re trapped?”
“We are all trapped in our own way,” Marsh said. “It is nothing to get excited about.”
“What if we have a medical emergency of some kind?”
“Ebenezer Hollingsworth can handle anything we need. He is a very good doctor.” Marsh pushed the cart past David.
He grabbed hold of the cart to stop it. “That’s not what I’ve heard. I was told he isn’t even a doctor.”
Marsh chuckled. “That’s crazy. Who told you that?”
“Hester, the lady who cleans the church.”
“Hester?” The other man thought for a long time. “We don’t have a Hester in this town.”
“You have to. I saw her with my own eyes. We talked. She said that Mr. Fernwell sent her to clean.”
“Do you mean the Gilmans’ servants?” Marsh asked.
“She said her master’s family was dead, so I don’t know.” David took a book from the cart.
“That’s her. The Gilmans have been gone a long time. I would have thought she’d moved on.” Marsh said the last part dreamily. “I can’t imagine why a servant would stay without a family.”
“So you have people leave Innsboro?”
“Eventually.”
“How can they do that? According to that atlas, the town doesn’t exist.” David poked the atlas with the book he had in his hand.
“Please be careful with that book. We only have so many children’s books. We must take good care of them.”
David turned the book over in his hands. A picture of the Br’er Rabbit and the Tar-Baby looked up at him from the glossy board cover. The book looked very old, but in remarkably good shape. He opened it to the copyright page. It read 1924.
“This book is in great shape for its age,” he said.
“We try to keep it that way. Books are hard to come by.” Marsh took it back. “Children’s books especially.”
“So you have children in the town?”
“Of course we do; what kind of town doesn’t have children?”
“I’ve not seen a school, a playground or any evidence of children,” David said. “I’ve never been to a town with children that didn’t have those things.”
Marsh put the book back on his cart. “I’m going to guess that until today you didn’t know that we had a library either. Reverend, there are many things about us that you don’t know. There are many things that you assume, and I am afraid that they are all bad or conspiratorial.”
“You keep a lot of mystery around yourself.”
Marsh moved to the table. He opened the atlas to Tennessee. After studying the map for a moment, he poked his finger at an empty
He slid the “A” drawer out before remembering that an atlas would be in the reference section. Large signage was a convenient feature of the Innsboro Public Library. He easily found the reference section and a US atlas. David took the book back to one of the tables, opening it to Tennessee as he did.
The lettering on the map was small, but with the additional light from a lamp, David found the highway he’d traveled before turning off on the road to town. He traced the line up from Chattanooga, looking for the cutoff road to the town as he did. His finger crossed the border into North Carolina. The road to town never appeared. He flipped to the town index in the back. Tennessee listed no town named Innsboro. David looked at the date of the atlas. The year 2000 stared up at him in bold, square letters. The atlas was old, but the town was older.
“What are you doing here?” Marsh asked, pushing a cart loaded with books from another room.
David jumped up from the table, slamming the atlas closed. “I was looking up roads out of town.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I tried to get up to the main highway so that I could get a cell phone signal, but a rockslide blocked the road. I figured there has to be another way out of town.”
“There isn’t,” Marsh said.
“So we’re trapped?”
“We are all trapped in our own way,” Marsh said. “It is nothing to get excited about.”
“What if we have a medical emergency of some kind?”
“Ebenezer Hollingsworth can handle anything we need. He is a very good doctor.” Marsh pushed the cart past David.
He grabbed hold of the cart to stop it. “That’s not what I’ve heard. I was told he isn’t even a doctor.”
Marsh chuckled. “That’s crazy. Who told you that?”
“Hester, the lady who cleans the church.”
“Hester?” The other man thought for a long time. “We don’t have a Hester in this town.”
“You have to. I saw her with my own eyes. We talked. She said that Mr. Fernwell sent her to clean.”
“Do you mean the Gilmans’ servants?” Marsh asked.
“She said her master’s family was dead, so I don’t know.” David took a book from the cart.
“That’s her. The Gilmans have been gone a long time. I would have thought she’d moved on.” Marsh said the last part dreamily. “I can’t imagine why a servant would stay without a family.”
“So you have people leave Innsboro?”
“Eventually.”
“How can they do that? According to that atlas, the town doesn’t exist.” David poked the atlas with the book he had in his hand.
“Please be careful with that book. We only have so many children’s books. We must take good care of them.”
David turned the book over in his hands. A picture of the Br’er Rabbit and the Tar-Baby looked up at him from the glossy board cover. The book looked very old, but in remarkably good shape. He opened it to the copyright page. It read 1924.
“This book is in great shape for its age,” he said.
“We try to keep it that way. Books are hard to come by.” Marsh took it back. “Children’s books especially.”
“So you have children in the town?”
“Of course we do; what kind of town doesn’t have children?”
“I’ve not seen a school, a playground or any evidence of children,” David said. “I’ve never been to a town with children that didn’t have those things.”
Marsh put the book back on his cart. “I’m going to guess that until today you didn’t know that we had a library either. Reverend, there are many things about us that you don’t know. There are many things that you assume, and I am afraid that they are all bad or conspiratorial.”
“You keep a lot of mystery around yourself.”
Marsh moved to the table. He opened the atlas to Tennessee. After studying the map for a moment, he poked his finger at an empty
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