Good citizens of Baileyville – please be
aware of the moral danger
posed by the Packhorse Library.
All right-minded citizens are
advised to decline its use.
Meeting hall, Tuesday 6 p.m.
OUR TOWN’S MORAL RECTITUDE
IS AT STAKE.
‘Moral rectitude. From a man who smashed a girl’s face halfway across his dining table.’ Margery shook her head.
‘What are we going to do?’
‘Go to the meeting, I guess. We’re right-minded citizens after all.’ Margery looked sanguine. But Alice noted the way her hand closed around the leaflet, and a tendon ran tight along her neck. ‘And I’m not letting that old –’
The door flew open. It was Bryn, his cheeks pink and his breath heavy from running.
‘Miss O’Hare? Miss O’Hare? Beth’s took a fall on some ice and broke her arm up real bad.’
They bolted from the library and followed him up the snow-covered road, where they were met by the bulky figure of Dan Meakins, the local blacksmith, carrying a whey-faced Beth across his chest. She was clutching her arm and there were vivid dark shadows under each eye, as if she hadn’t slept for a week.
‘Horse went down on a patch of ice just by the gravel pit,’ Dan Meakins said. ‘Checked him over and I think he’s okay. But it looks like her arm took the full force of it.’
Margery stepped closer to peer at Beth’s arm and her heart sank. It was already swollen and dark red three inches above the wrist.
‘You’re making a fuss,’ said Beth, through clenched teeth.
‘Alice, fetch Fred. We need to get her to the doctor at Chalk Ridge.’
An hour later the three of them stood in the little treatment room at Dr Garnett’s as he carefully set the injured arm between two splints, humming quietly as he bound it. Beth sat with her eyes closed and her jaw tight, determined not to let the pain show, consistent with her upbringing as the sole girl in a family of brothers.
‘I can still ride, though, right?’ said Beth, when the doctor had finished. She held her arm in front of her as he looped the sling around her neck and tied it carefully.
‘Absolutely not. Young lady, you need to spend at least six weeks resting it. No riding, no lifting things, no banging it against anything.’
‘But I have to ride. How else am I supposed to get the books out?’
‘I don’t know if you heard about our little library, Doctor –’ Margery began.
‘Oh, we’ve all heard about your library.’ He allowed himself a wry smile. ‘Miss Pinker, at the moment the fracture appears clean, and I’m confident it should mend well. But I cannot stress enough how important it is to protect it from further injury. If an infection were to set in, then we could face having to amputate.’
‘Amputate?’
Alice felt something wash over her, revulsion or fear, she wasn’t sure. Beth was suddenly wide-eyed, her previous composure evaporated.
‘We’ll manage, Beth.’ Margery sounded more convincing than she felt. ‘You just listen to the doctor.’
Fred drove as swiftly as he could but by the time they arrived back the meeting had already been going almost half an hour. Alice and Margery crept in at the back of the meeting hall, Alice tipping her hat low over her brow and pulling her hair loose around her face to try to hide the worst of the bruises. Fred followed just behind her, as he had done the whole day, like some kind of guard. The door closed softly behind them. Van Cleve was in such full flow that nobody even stopped to look when they entered.
‘Don’t get me wrong. I am all for books and learning. My own son Bennett here was valedictorian at the school, as some of you may remember. But there are good books and there are books that plant the wrong kinds of ideas, books that spread untruths and impure thoughts. Books that can, if left unmonitored, cause divisions in society. And I fear we may have been lax in letting such books loose in our community without applying sufficient vigilance to protect our young and most vulnerable minds.’
Margery scanned the assembled heads, noting who was there, and who was nodding along. It was hard to tell from behind.
Van Cleve walked along the row of chairs at the front, shaking his head, as if the information he had to impart made him truly sorrowful. ‘Sometimes, neighbours, good neighbours, I wonder if the only book we should really be reading is the Good Book itself. Doesn’t that have all the facts and learning we need?’
‘So what are you proposing, Geoff?’
‘Well, ain’t it obvious? We have to shut this thing down.’
Faces in the crowd met each other, some shocked and concerned, others nodding their approval.
‘I appreciate that there has been some good work done with sharing recipes and teaching the kiddies to read and all. And I thank you for that, Mrs Brady. But enough’s enough. We need to take back control of our town. And we start with closing this so-called library. I will be putting this to our governor at the earliest opportunity, and I hope that as many of you as are right-minded citizens out here will be supporting me.’
The crowd drained away half an hour later, uncharacteristically muted and hard to read, whispering to each other, a few casting curious glances at the women who stood together at the back. Van Cleve walked out deep in conversation with Pastor McIntosh and either failed to notice them, or had simply decided not to acknowledge that they were there.
But Mrs Brady saw them. Still in the heavy fur hat she wore outside, she scanned the back of the crowd until she spied Margery and motioned to her to meet her over by the small stage. ‘Is it true? About the Married Love book?’
Margery held her gaze. ‘Yes.’
Mrs Brady exclaimed softly under her breath. ‘Do you realize what you’ve done, Margery O’Hare?’
‘It’s just facts, Mrs Brady. Facts, to help women take control of their own bodies, their own lives. Nothing sinful about it. Hell, even our own federal court approved that book.’
‘Federal courts.’ Mrs Brady sniffed. ‘You know as well as I do that down here we’re a long way from federal courts, or indeed anyone who cares a lick about what they decide. You know our little corner of the world is highly conservative, especially when it comes to matters of the flesh.’ She folded her arms across her chest, and her words suddenly exploded out of her. ‘Darn it, Margery, I trusted you not to create a stir! You know how sensitive this project is. Now the whole town is alive with rumours about the kind of material you’re distributing. And that old fool is stirring fit to bust to make sure he gets his own way and shuts us down.’
‘All I’ve done is be straight with people.’
‘Well, a wiser woman than you would have realized that sometimes you have to play a politician’s game to get what you want. By doing what you’ve done, you’ve given him the very ammunition he was hoping for.’
Margery shifted awkwardly. ‘Ah, come on, Mrs Brady. Nobody pays any heed to Mr Van Cleve.’
‘You think? Well, Izzy’s father, for one, has put his foot down.’
‘What?’
‘Mr Brady has tonight insisted Izzy withdraw from the programme.’
Margery’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘I most certainly am not. This library relies on the goodwill of locals. It relies on the notion of the public good. Whatever it is you’re doing, you have created a controversy and Mr Brady does not want his only child dragged into it.’
She raised a hand suddenly to her cheek. ‘Oh, my. Mrs Nofcier will not be happy when she hears about this. She will not be happy at all.’
‘But – but Beth Pinker just broke her arm. We’re already one librarian down. If we lose Izzy, too, the library won’t be able to continue.’