Dewey Decimal

by Jeff Baker

“Okay. It’s not here. Upstairs, quick!” Hal pointed at the library stairs. Mack would rather have used the elevator.

“You checked the card catalog? You know, the computer files?” Mack asked.

“First thing I did after asking at the reference desk. Geez!” Hal said, an expression that might have been seriously inappropriate considering the nature of what they were looking for.

As they raced up the stairs, Hal muttered under his breath: “How could they lose it? How could they lose it?”

The ancient, crumbling book he and Mack had acquired (at great personal cost) had been accidentally put in the downtown Library’s “return” slot by mistake. They’d watched through the window as the old book went up the conveyor belt and into the big room where the staff would sort out the books and later shelve them.

Hal and Mack reached the second floor and stood catching their breath by the big picture book in its glass case.

“It has to be here,” Hal said panting. “I can feel it.”

“Yeah, but where in the name of Carcosa is it? And it isn’t the Library’s book, how could it have gotten shelved?”

“Remember, the Lypodecht isn’t an ordinary book,” Hal said. “It has its own purposes. Its own means.”

“I know, Hali, I know.” Mack said.

“Hal, remember?” Hal said. Mack nodded.

“Okay, let’s tryyyyy Research.”

The two of them walked into the big room with low filing cabinets full of flat drawers and rows of bookshelves full of volumes that smelled old. It took an hour but they walked through every aisle, checking for the spine of the ancient tome.

“If somebody else finds it,” Hal muttered.

“I know, I know.” Mack said.

The two of them plopped down at a small table with a sign on a plastic stand reading NO FOOD OR DRINK IN THE RESEARCH AREA DUE TO THE FRAGILITY OF THE MATERIALS.

“Fiction area next?” Hal said.

“Yeah,” Mack said nodding. Then he stiffened and pointed. “Look!”

Hal turned. Behind him was the glass partition separating the rare books room from the research area. On the glass was a sign identifying it as SECURED STORAGE. Taped beneath it was another sign reading DEFINITELY NO FOOD OR DRINK. Below that, in front of a row of bookshelves was a cart with books, doubtless to be shelved. On the top shelf of the cart, right next to a brown, crumbling book labeled “Biographical History, Central Kansas, Volume II” was an almost identical crumbling brown book with a name in archaic characters on the spine in a faded color that hurt the eyes to stare at.

“That’s it!” Hal said. “Found it!”

Hal jumped up and pulled the handle of the glass door. Locked. It wouldn’t budge. They rushed over to the Librarian at the desk.

“Uh, ma’am,” Hal said. “We accidentally returned a book that belongs to us here and we just saw it on that cart in that other room over there. It’s ours.”

“Yeah, it’s ours,” Mack said.

“Okay,” the Librarian said. “What’s the name of the book.”

“It’s called The Lypodecht.” Hal said.

“Author?” asked the Librarian, scrolling through the computer files.

“Ummm…probably Tiabbas.” Mack said. “Known as the Lord Of Ice.” He paused as the Librarian looked up. “Pen name, I think.”

“Okaaaaay…” the Librarian said. “It’s not in here. I gotta get the research librarian if we want to open that door.”

The Librarian walked into an office. Hal and Mack looked at each other.

“Do you get the feeling the book doesn’t want to be found?” Hal asked.

“I’m not sure, I…” Mack froze and pointed at the computer screen behind the desk.

On the screen, lines were being printed over and over:

Lypodecht, The by Tiabbas, He Who Is Lord Of Ice And Master Of This World

Call Number: R TIABBAS

Available: Here

Lypodecht, The by Tiabbas, He Who Is Lord Of Ice And Master Of This World

Call Number: R TIABBAS

Available: Here

Lypodecht, The by Tiabbas, He Who Is Lord Of Ice And Master Of This World

Call Number: R TIABBAS

Available: Here

“It’s own purposes, it’s own means,” Mack said.

“I am Hali, Servant of the Great One…” Hal began to say over and over as the sky outside darkened and the air became very cold.

—end—