15

The library windows were set high, above the storied stacks that lined the walls. The stillness of the day had succumbed to a light breeze. Beyond the panes, a dark gray sea of clouds washed slowly southward, and the immense fronds of a phoenix palm did not thrash but undulated as hypnotically as the numerous mouth tentacles of a sea anemone seeking sustenance.

As Jeffy and Amity hunted for the books by Edwin Harkenbach, strange currents came and went, disturbing the air between the rows of tall shelves, as if unseen presences were likewise searching the library's collection, perhaps the restless ghosts of past patrons vainly inquiring after a self-help volume that would counsel them about how to let go of their late, lamented lives.

The romantic fragrances of yellowing paper and literary dust were pervasive. A faint, disturbing odor of mildew rose repeatedly but always faded. Twice Jeffy caught a vague scent of something burning, and though it was the merest tease of a cataclysmic smell, he looked toward the vaulted ceiling and turned his head this way and that, half expecting to see a thin haze of smoke.

"Here!" Amity breathed and slid one fingertip along the spines of several volumes.

Of the many works by Harkenbach, the library possessed only seven. Among those, however, Infinite Worlds waited. A field of stars illustrated the cover, and between the vivid red letters of the title were pale blue letters repeating those two words.

Although the book was only 312 pages and appeared to be written for curious laymen rather than for physicists, it was too long to be perused while standing in the aisle. And for reasons he could not fully grasp, he didn't want the patron in black to see him reading.

He possessed a Suavidad Beach Library card, but intuition told him that something about it would be different from the way such a card looked in this version of the town. The wirehaired, clenched-jaw librarian would reject it and impound the book, and she would most likely do so loud enough to attract the attention of the man in black fatigues, who had already shown an unhealthy interest in Jeffy and Amity.

Jeffy handed the book to his daughter. He spoke softly. "He's less likely to suspect you than me. Loosen your belt, tuck this in your jeans, button up your jacket."

"We're stealing it?" she whispered.

"No, sweetheart. It's not stealing."

"What is it, then?"

"Informal borrowing. We'll return it later."

"Cool."

"It's not cool. Even though it isn't stealing, it's still not cool. It's a one-time thing."

Amity concealed the book as he'd directed.

"Try not to look guilty," he said.

"I don't look guilty," she objected.

"You look something. Okay, we'll walk directly to the front door. Don't hurry. Act relaxed. Be casual."

"Can I whistle a tune?"

"Is that a joke?"

"I thought so."

"It's not a time for jokes."

Together they moved toward the end of the aisle.

They halted when the man in black garb rounded the corner and blocked their way. He had an unfortunate porcine face and eyes that glittered with menace in the shadows of deep sockets. As he boldly regarded them, the nostrils of his fleshy nose flared as if he were on a truffle hunt.

"You find what you were looking for?" he asked, not in the helpful way of a library employee, but with sharp suspicion.

"Yes, sir, thank you," Jeffy said brightly. "My daughter has this school project, she's got to make a motorized model of the solar system, and we didn't know which planets might have more than one moon or no moons at all. Now we know."

The stranger appeared simultaneously ridiculous and threatening in his faux Ninja outfit. However, his manner and voice suggested that he possessed authority and was accustomed to being treated with respect. "The solar system, is it? Just how old are you, girl?"

Belatedly, Jeffy realized that building a motorized model of the solar system was too ambitious a project for a sixth grader, but Amity was quick to patch the hole in his story.

"I'm almost fourteen," she lied. "So I'm kind of a runt, but I'm not always gonna be. I'm gonna have a growth spurt and be five feet eight, maybe five nine, and no one will tease me anymore, which will sure be, you know, great. Daddy can make the planets and moons rotate and revolve, and that'll make me seem totally cool."

Jeffy was pleased by how quick-witted Amity was, but at the same time, he was unsettled by the alacrity with which she lied and the convincing innocence with which she did it.

Proving himself a cynic, the guy in black said, "You think it's cold in here? Why is your jacket buttoned to the neck? It's not cold in here. You hiding something in your jacket, girl?"

Amity turned half away from the man and quickly undid only the top two buttons and produced Snowball from an exterior pocket while making it appear that he'd been inside her jacket. "Snowball is a good mouse. He goes everywhere with me, and he's never a problem, never runs away. He'd never ever poop on a book or anything bad like that. I'm real sorry. I made a mistake bringing him here."

The security man—or whatever he was—scowled. "That's no right kind of pet." He regarded Jeffy with contempt out of proportion to any perceived offense. "What kind of parent allows his child to keep a filthy rodent like that?"

In the California from which Jeffy and Amity had come, this kind of dressing-down from a man who looked like a background extra in a cheesy kung fu movie would have elicited a withering response. In this alternate state, however, such a man was a mystery that required caution.

"Yes, sir. You're right, of course. I guess I indulge her too much. I've been guilty of that ever since her mom ... since her mom passed away."

Although he seemed to assume that he was privileged, although he was officious and rude in the manner of a petty bureaucrat, this costumed Gestapo wannabe still had a spoonful of the milk of human kindness. His expression softened slightly at the mention of a family tragedy. His stare shifted from Jeffy to Amity to Jeffy again. "All right, maybe you don't need to take a parenting course. But get out of here with that dirty rodent. Buy the girl an approved animal, something that honors the genius of the state."

"I will," Jeffy assured him, though he had no idea what the guy meant. "Thanks for your understanding."

Without looking back at their interrogator, he and Amity made their way out of the maze of stacks. As they crossed the receiving area toward the entrance, he saw the librarian with the shock of white hair. She moved briskly, pushing a cart bearing the books she'd earlier been inspecting. As she passed through an archway, out of sight, Jeffy again detected the smell of smoke. Although the odor was faint, he thought it was the scent of paper burning.

A shiver descended his spine as he opened the front door and as he and Amity stepped outside into a world not theirs.