When it is the end of the library day, we lower three enormous metal gates to keep, I don't know, thieves or something out. There is one gate in front of the circulation desk and one gate blocking the access to both the left and right sides. The gates are motorized. The motors are very loud. The gates are controled by panels which are activated and deactivated by a key. This is because students, much like myself, would push the buttons every time they passed the panels if they had easy access to them. The buttons on the panels are large attractive buttons that appear very very pushable to passers by.
Of course, I have a key. I have been called upon to use it more than once in the line of my duties.
Theresa also has a key. However, for some incomprehensible reason she gave up her key for the summer. I asked her why she would do such a thing, and she told me something about the grass on her lawn and oh isn't it just a growin' and I dropped the topic without further inquiry.
The library is a very large place. It covers three floors, stretches from one building across a breezeway into another building and is packed with book shelves and study carrols and musty wonderful corners. At the end of the day, we make every effort to ensure no one is still in the library when we close the gates. We send work study students to flush out the back corners and hidden study carrols where those intent on avoiding distraction like to hide.
However, it is not a foolproof scheme. We do not have a public address system that can be used to make general closing announcements. Occasionally a patron has hidden herself away well enough to go unnoticed. This results in the patron being locked behind the big metal gates of the library. I imagine the intial thoughts of someone in that postion to be one of panic. The only doors the students have ever used to access the library are so very visibly blocked by gates.
But once calmer heads prevail, the average person will soon realize that the library is litered with fire exits. And while it is true that an alarm will sound, there is access to the outside world. Those occasional patrons who find themselves seemingly locked in the library for the night, will not be sleeping in the stacks if they just think. And besides, a call to the campus police on a cell phone would dispatch a security guard to rectify the situation.
Now, it is Theresa's habit to use the ladies room before she leaves for her car. We are a campus in the ghetto and we don't really like Theresa walking to her car in the dark by herself. There have been occasions when Peth and I have waited a few minutes for theresa to tinkle before we hit the road, just so we could watch her get to her vehicle safely.
Before ducking into the potty, Theresa usually takes her belongings and puts them in a chair across from the elevator. Then if she's done before us, she waits in the chair, checking her watch and looking generally annoyed.
This evening when it came time to leave I looked over and saw Theresa's belongings in the chair across from the elevator. I did not see Theresa. I made the natural assumption that she was in the potty. I started the mechanisms that close the gates. They roared to life and the big metal gates clackety clacked their way slowly down their tracks until they were in place. I locked the control panels, called the elevator, yelled to Katrina that we were locked up, and waited.
It was very quiet and still. I could hear Katrina around the corner locking up her office. There was a quite hum coming from the elevator shaft. Had there been crickets in the building, they would have been chirping. I sort of drifted off. Katrina came around the corner, eyed Theresa's bags and sweater and rolled her eyes. She leaned against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.
The elevator arrived and she moved to hold the doors open. She looked at me and shook her head. I totally sympathized.
And then the quiet was very rudely shattered by a thunderous BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!
It startled us both. I leapt out of my skin. Katrina hit her head on the wall behind her. We shared shocked expressions and then we heard it again. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!
It was coming from the gates.
"What is that?" Katrina asked.
BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!
"I dunno."
I walked up to the gate and yelled "Is there somebody there?" I was answered with an even louder BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM! I looked closely at the gate and could see the metal giving a little with every BLAM.
I reached into my pocket for my key. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM! It startled me and I dropped them. I fished around for the right key to unlock the panel. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM! I had to get that noise to stop.
When the gate was finally on its way up, I was only a little surpirsed to see Theresa on the other side. Her face was red with exertion and her eyes were puffy with the hint of tears. She dropped the hammer she had been using in her attempt to break down the gate.
She immediately started swearing. "What the hell did you lock me in here for?"
"I thought you were in the bathroom."
"What the hell did you lock me in here for?"
I shrugged. Her ears were probably ringing from the beating she had been giving the gate.
"I can't get this damn thing... gives me a noise... don't know what's the problem." She tottered off in the direction of the time clock, still swearing. Katrina was rolling her eyes so hard I could hear them.
Though I am not sure Theresa ever successfully clocked out, she eventually assured herself that she had performed the task to a minimum standard and joined us at the elevator. It was only after we were outside that she started swearing about not getting to go to the bathroom.
It seems Katrina and I were rushing her.
Posted at 12:39 a.m.
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