“Where did you find this book?” She asked.
I hooked a thumb over my shoulder, my eyes anywhere but on her. They definitely weren’t on Frankie.
“Over there in the mythology section.”
“I don’t think this is one of ours.” She reached a hand out to run her fingertips over the cover, touching it lovingly before flipping the cover open. She glanced at the front cover interior panel, nodded knowingly, then shut the book once again. “This isn’t ours.”
“What?”
“This happens sometimes,” She explained, “one of your fellow students returned a book from the public library to us. We might have borrowed it from the library for them—normally, we would return it, too—but I guess this one just got shelved here on accident.”
“Oh.”
It wasn’t like Mrs. Clark to make mistakes. Maybe it was one of the students who came in during last period Study Hall who sometimes helped her out when a lot of books needed to be shelved.
“I really wanted to read it.” I screwed up the corner of my mouth, my eyes darting up to look at her. “It’s the only mythology book here that I haven’t read.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Frankie gliding along, making his way to the bookshelves. I just want to get out of here. Screw the book.
Mrs. Clark ran her fingers along the book cover for a few moments, her eyes on me as she considered something out of character.
“Tell you what,” She leaned in, as though we shared a secret, “you can borrow it. If you promise to return it to the public library for me when you’re done. You read quickly enough, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
I couldn’t help but look up at her and smile.
“You’re always so good with the books.” She beamed at me. “So, go ahead. Enjoy the book. Don’t make me sorry.”
Mrs. Clark’s elegant fingers pushed the book across the counter once again, indicating that I should take it. Before she could change her mind, I reached up and slid the book off of the counter and slipped it under my arm, tucking it securely away.
“Thank you, Mrs. Clark,” I said. “I’ll return it to the public library without a scratch. Promise.”
“I trust you.” She winked. “Enjoy your book, hon.”
With a nod, and my mood better than before, I turned and headed towards the exit. I had forgotten all about seeing Frankie.
Chapter 2 – Kat
Banned books are hard to come by in my house. Books—other than The Bible—are rare in general. We have bookcases in our house, quite a few to be honest, but they’re all filled with crosses, Precious Moments figurines, and little knick-knacks my mom has brought home from one family vacation or another. Usually, something religious that talks about footprints or something. They’re all pretty things, I guess, but the fact that secular books are not allowed in our house kills me a little inside each day. Okay, I know it’s trite. The teenage girl who adores books and swoons over Jane Austen and wants to grow up to be Katniss Everdeen or something. Epic romances and dangerous post-apocalyptic dystopian futures where I find my courage to save the world are not why I read, though.
My big thing is Banned Books. Especially those that were banned for a really stupid reason. Some books, such as Fifty Shades of Grey might not belong in a high school library—I’ll give you that. Did you know A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley was banned in classrooms in Miller, Missouri because it “made promiscuous sex look like fun?” I’ve never had sex, but isn’t it? Why lie to your audience? The Harry Potter series was banned in tons of places for promoting witchcraft and being anti-Christian. The same can be said for Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz. Something about the promotion of demonology and Satanism, or something equally stupid. I mean, one is a series of Young Adult Fantasy novels, and the other is a three-piece compilation of mildly scary stories to scare kids on sleepovers. Not that I’d know anything about sleepovers. Those are banned in my house, too.
Oh, yeah. Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret by Judy Blume has been on the Banned Books list for talking about menstruation. As if fifty percent of the world’s population doesn’t menstruate. It’s just a part of life. In fact, if it weren’t for everyone who menstruates, none of us would be here, so it shouldn’t be a topic people shy away from. We all owe our lives to the ova and uterine lining, so let’s all take a chill pill on women’s reproductive organs, okay? If we should be banning things, it should be ignorant people (sorry, read: men) deciding anything about women’s reproductive parts. Of course, maybe we should blame women a little since that’s where those men came from originally. Why did we start doing that? People aren’t great in general, I guess, but I mostly blame men for any problems—and the Banned Books lists.
Anyway, I know that some words or scenes in books can be jarring or triggering for some people, or maybe they just make some people uncomfortable. Books that contain racist slurs or misogynistic language, or anti-religious themes—I get it. Those things can be hurtful. But sometimes those things fit the scene, advance the plot, and move the reader towards a deeper understanding of the human condition—regardless of who the human is. Sometimes it’s satire or irony—or a condemnation of the world as it was, is, or will be. I don’t like other people telling me what I can’t read. I’m reasonably intelligent and can tell that a racial slur is not okay in real life, but if used in a book for historical accuracy or to inform the reader of something in some way, I understand. I guess what I’m trying to say is—intelligent readers who read stories and don’t see them as a guide for how to live their lives shouldn’t be told they can’t read a book.
Of course, it’s the most ignorant readers who can be influenced to do bad things by something as simple as a book.
For people like me, we read controversial and boundary-pushing books because we want a better understanding of the world. We don’t just want the filtered and sanitized version of the world as a utopia. I want problematic. I thrive on it. It teaches me to be a better person because it helps me understand how and why people do ignorant things that are hurtful to others. In a nutshell, people like me can hear other opinions, consider different ideas, without accepting them as truth. People like me want all of the information so that when we settle on a belief or ideal, we feel well-informed and secure in our decisions. If you’ve only read The Bible, how can you make a well-informed decision about anything?
Long-Moore High School’s library is a respite because of the wonky rules about books at my house. Since I can’t really keep a stockpile of my favorite books in my house—unless I want to face the wrath of my mother and father—I have to check out one book at a time from school. Often, I will read during Study Hall and before or after school, so the books spend less time in my house, tucked away under my mattress or hidden inside the air conditioning duct by my bedroom door. Being careful with the books I bring home is no joke.
Mrs. Clark, the librarian, is great about keeping Banned Books in the collection. She’s not the type of lady who is intimidated by the suggestions of parents or other faculty. I guess she’s kind of a kindred spirit in that she believes that information should be free and available to all, regardless of what certain people think about it. Like me, she knows that it has its risks, allowing any book to be checked out by any person, but the rewards outweigh the risks. On my first day at Long-Moore, the first time I walked into the library, and my eyes landed on Mrs. Clark’s, I knew that I could tell her exactly what I was looking for in those towering shelves. It took me a minute to stir up my courage, but once I told her I was looking for Banned Books—because I’d heard about how some books were banned when I was in eighth grade English—her eyes lit up.