Chapter 11 Mary

"Ronald," Mary said, with a timid knock on his office door, and Ronald looked up from what he was reading. His glasses were sitting all the way on the very tip of his nose.

I'll tell him I'm leaving, and he won't suspect anything strange is going on, Mary told herself. She zipped the gold cross back and forth, the chain pulling at the tender skin of her neck. There was some political demonstration happening on the street outside Ronald's window, timed for the increased campus activity for convocation, no doubt. It had been unfolding behind Ronald the entire time he'd been sitting in his office alone, but just now he noticed it and instead of replying to Mary, he turned in his chair to watch the students and their neon placards.

Mary loved Ronald like no teacher she'd ever had. He was her boss, technically, but had always felt like more of a mentor. Three weeks into her employment at the library, she'd filmed Ronald opening a parcel that contained a recently acquired catalog from Roy Lichtenstein's 1963 exhibition at Galerie Ileana Sonnabend in Paris, the artist's first solo exhibition in Europe, and she posted the film on her own feeds. Whether it was the Lichtenstein catalog itself, Ronald's delight at the unboxing, or the gleeful Italian pop song Mary laid behind the video, something made it catch fire. When the MLA asked Ronald to be the keynote at their annual conference, the video had been viewed 1.4 million times and a GIF of Ronald's delight became an international marker for joy. The whole thing was a happy accident.

Ronald was bemused at first but then he was proud. He told Mary over and over that she knew how to do something he'd never be able to and that her ability to shape images and connect with people was rare and valuable. She'd been hired to work with materials in Cantonese and Mandarin, and so she did, but Ronald always carved out time in her work week for her to practice the art of online communication. For the library's benefit, sure, but also for her own.

She stood in his doorway now, in front of this man who had been so good to her, determined to get through her script and get out of there.

"I'm leaving a couple of minutes early," she said, and Ronald, as if waking from a dream, finally looked at his watch and frowned when he saw how much the evening had escaped him.

"There are no readers," Mary said. "So Soraya's already gone."

It was unusual, the early departure. If Ronald was going to latch on to anything, it would be to this. They were paid until eight, he had every right to protest. Even if it was only five minutes, even if it was the night before graduation.

"Okay."

"Davey left at the same time, just now," Mary said.

"He won't ask any questions," Davey had assured her when he ran through the plan. "It'll be a one-way conversation."

"I see," Ronald said.

"I'm going to leave now, too. Everything is all settled up for the day."

"Okay."

"Do you need anything else from me?"

Zip, zip, zip, the cross against the chain, the chain against her throat.

"I suppose I don't," Ronald said. He looked again at the student protesters outside his window. "No reason for you to linger."

"Are you staying late tonight?"

"Not at all. The ITS shutdown. Can you read the signs?" He was talking about the protesters, and Mary squinted to try and see, but they were too far and the glare was too strong and she didn't want to talk about protesters; she wanted to get out of his office.

"So you're all set to lock up whenever you're ready," she said when Ronald had turned back around to face her. This was the important part, that Ronald not ask her to lock the cage in the basement. If she was asked to lock the door, then she'd be stuck on the outside.

"Mostly I wanted to come in and say thank you. Maybe I should have sent you a card, but it's been a wonderful experience. Working here." Mary laughed, though nothing was funny.

"I should be thanking you."

"There's nothing that special—"

"Online videos." Now he was the one who laughed. "Who would have guessed?"

"I'll see you at the ceremony then?" Mary said, taking a small step back, feeling the space to exit.

"The ceremony?" Ronald said.

"Graduation," Mary said, and for a moment, there was a flicker in his face. Did he know? He couldn't possibly.

"Of course." Just like that the flicker was gone. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

He stretched his arms over his head the way she knew he did when he was preparing to get up after a long time in his chair. Her grandpa did the same thing. It was time for Mary to go.

"Get some rest, Ronald. Tomorrow will be a long day."

When she had stepped backward all the way to the door, Ronald finally took off his glasses and, in a moment of feeling fatherly, or sentimental about the passing of time, about the departure of another group of students from his nest, he gave her his full attention.

"Goodbye, Mary," he said. "Good luck with all my heart. I can't wait to see what greatness comes next for you."