Mr. Linden’s Library

By:  Laura, 5th grade

 

        12-year-old Crystal Mabley loved the Linden Library. She loved the musty old smell. She loved the bird clock on the wall that chimed different bird calls instead of the boring old clank. She loved the librarian, Mr. Linden. But what Crystal like most of all were the books.

        Thousands of books, even millions of books were on the shelves in the library. Books about everything you could imagine, from architecture to zoology, were all in the library. And everything was so neat; there was never a book out of place of a slip of scrap paper around. Crystal could spend hours there just looking around and taking in the wonderful scent of old scrolls of parchment and mothballs.

        But the strange thing about the library is that Crystal had never, ever checked out a book. Sometimes she read through a biography or skimmed a children’s book. But most of the time Crystal just sat on the floor and felt free.

        One day, while she was looking around in the VWXYZ section after school, she came across a book called Vines of Death. She opened it up to a great cloud of dust. Crystal rubbed the grime off the first page and began to read.

        After the first line, Crystal was hooked. She didn’t know why, but it was as if something had crawled up around her neck and was slowly luring her in to the adventure of the book. She read four chapters before she heard footsteps behind her. Crystal shut the book in fright and looked up. Mr. Linden was standing right behind her, tapping his shiny shoe on the linoleum floor.

        “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Linden,” Crystal stammered, picking up the book and checking her watch. It read 5:45. 15 minutes until she had to be home. Crystal packed up her books in a rush.

        Mr. Linden smiled. He had snow-white, fluffy hair and a beard that matched perfectly. He had a large belly that wiggle when he laughed, and his intelligent-looking spectacles were always pushed to the tip of his nose. He reminded Crystal of a mix between Santa Clause and Albert Einstein.

        “The library is about to close,” he said. “Would you like to check out anything?”

        Crystal glanced at the closed book in her hand and nodded. Mr. Linden smiled and led her to the small, circular counter.

        “Here you go,” Crystal said, setting down the book and fumbling in her knapsack for her card. Mr. Linden leaned over and examined the book closely. A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth, but slowly wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

        “Oh,” he said nervously. “You have found a good read. This book is one I found when the library first opened. It seems to have a sort of mystical magic to it sometimes. But one caution: whatever you do, do not leave the book open after you have finished reading it. Bad things will happen if you do.”

        “Okay,” said Crystal, ignoring Mr. Linden’s solemn eyes. “Here’s my card. I’ll turn it in as soon as I get done with it.” She stuffed the book into her bag, grabbed her skateboard, and left in a rush to get home before the streetlamps turned on.

        “Thank you,” said Mr. Linden, smiling. He watched as Crystal skated down the street and out of sight. Sighing deeply, Mr. Linden crossed his fingers. Things had gone perfectly so far. Mr. Linden liked Crystal. He just hoped he would see her again.

        Crystal made it home on her skateboard a second too late. Her fingers had just begun to reach for the doorbell when the street lamps went on. Her mother came bursting through the door, her face red as a provoked bull.

          “Where have you been?” asked Mrs. Mabley. “You weren’t out loafing around with those friends of yours, were you?”

        Crystal shook her head. “No, Mom, calm down. I was at the library. I was too caught up in my reading to notice the time…”

        “We agreed home by six o’clock, when the street lamps went on. You were two seconds late, miss. Now up to your room. Why can’t you be more like your brother, the behaved one?”

        Crystal’s little brother was sitting at the table spearing pasta out of a bowl. It looked delicious, but just Crystal made a face at him before charging up to her bedroom and slamming the door. She wasn’t hungry. But maybe homework would calm her down.

        Crystal unpacked her school stuff from her knapsack and tried to work on an English assignment, but her eyes kept slipping over to the book, Vines of Death. Finally, she shut the book and put it back in her book-bag.

        Crystal took off her clothes and put on her pajamas. She examined herself in the mirror and sighed. Her bushy, black hair fell in stubborn ringlets at uneven lengths. Her face was round and pale, and her figure was flat and rather like a boy’s. She brushed a comb through her hair and got into her soft bed. Snuggled up under the covers, Crystal began to read.

        She read and read, soaking up the pages as if they were a spill and she was a sponge. Her eyes flicked back and forth, and suddenly, she could feel the magic that Mr. Linden was talking about. It seemed to enchant her, and she fell off into a daze. The book seemed to wrap around her and…

        “AHH!” Crystal shrieked. A long, green, spiky vine had twisted its way out of the book and wrapped itself around her. She yelped in fright, and the vine released its grip. Crystal slammed the book shut and fell in a heap on the floor. She opened her eyes. I’m alive, she thought reassuringly.

        Crystal got up and shook herself. It was just a stupid hallucination, she said to herself. There is nothing wrong with the book. I just have to focus.

        Crystal climbed back in bed, opened the book, and read some more. The clock on the wall ticked and the fan whirred at the same tempo. It made a soothing rhythm. Crystal began to zone out, but she focused again. She thought she saw a small sprout swish up out of the pages. Another hallucination, Crystal thought.

         Haunting, eerie voices began to echo in Crystal’s head as she read on. The room spun, and colors went out of focus. The night sky outside was a delicate shade of purple, and the yellow walls were now a shadowy blue. The fan seemed to hum a melody, and the clock kept the constant beat. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick...

        With one last, desperate attempt to stay in her right mind, Crystal closed her eyes. The book lay open on her lap. Slowly, vines began to creep out of the spine. He had warned her about the book. Now, it was too late.

        The sprout sprung up from the heart of the book, the roots spreading like an infectious disease. Leaves developed out of the blossoming stem, and tiny buds formed like drops of dew at the top of the sprout. The plant wriggled its way out of the book and, suddenly, the trouble began.

         The vines thrashed out at the still sleeping Crystal and slithered around her wrist. Flowers popped up out of the buds, a black color that swallowed the whole room in shadows. The green sprout wriggled under Crystal’s figure and began to wrap itself around her.

        Crystal’s breaths shortened. She became conscious, and struggled to open her eyes. Her whole body came rigid. They were trapped shut!

        Crystal shook and felt the belt of vines covering her body. She gripped her face and found that something slimy was covering her eyes. She rubbed it off with her finger and looked around.

        Vines were creeping up her legs and twirling around as if performing a ceremonial dance. She wriggled her toes, and found that the green ropes had curled around them, too. She bit down hard on a single, thick vine that was creeping up her back. Desperately, Crystal fumbled for the book.

        Crystal felt life slipping away. Lights danced behind her eyes, and her lungs swelled from lack of air. Crystal closed her eyes and took one last grab for the book. Her hand touched something hard. She slammed it shut.

        The next morning, Crystal ran as hard as she could towards the library. The book Vines of Death was grasped in her hand. The door to Linden Library had just opened, and the lights flickered on one by one. Crystal burst through the door and came to a stop in the lobby. She looked around to see if Mr. Linden was there. She heard footsteps above her. He’s still opening up, she thought, and slowly knelt at her feet. When she opened the book, a single vine sprung from the book. Crystal stroked it, feeling a prick of fear.

        “Do your magic,” she whispered, and tip-toed out the door. She crept to the window and smiled as Mr. Linden walked in. He took one look at the open book and at the giant stalk in the air and only had time to say a few words before he never said anything again.

        “MY SPIRIT WILL FIND YOU, CRYSTAL!” Mr. Linden’s voice trilled on the last word. There was a bright flash, and then a piercing scream, Mr. Linden closed his eyes one last time.