The Library Room - Chapter One

 

    Loren’s long hair had tangled and pulled as she tossed her purse

and laptop onto the table at the library. Her blue eyes reread

the assignments on her pad and willed a different assignment.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

    Her flat tummy growled a soft complaint. She’d full intentions

of making a smoothie for lunch before going to her part-time

apprentice job at Samson Marketing. If only she hadn’t argued so

long with her professor over the assignment.

    She inhaled the musty smells of books, the cedar planked

walls, and decades of wood polishing chemicals. It was one of

her most treasured sensations, the smell of “her library.” When

she needed to unwind, she could recall Hersche Library’s aroma

to be calmed. Today, it was being called upon to help with the

apprehension of her assignment.

    She huffed and thought, Toad warts! Where do I start? Okay,

Loren, focus…Books…Um, I’ll assume a Bible and whatever Jewish

people read and…who do I know? Who can I call? Who can I hire to

do this and how much would it cost?

    As she stared at the ornate crown moldings tying together the

cedar walls and tin ceiling, a familiar figure walked in front of her

lower peripheral vision.

    The librarian wore a bright fuchsia dress with a black scarf.

She kept her nappy hair short, displaying random touches of

silver. Her slender and nearly six foot height commanded respect

along with her proper posture; however, kindness resonated in

her soft voice. Loren was always impressed by her knowledge

of the different reference books and authors throughout the

library. Although Loren had never bothered asking the woman’s

name, they were kindred spirits brought together by books and

a building. As she busied herself returning books to shelves, her

black scarf fluttered around her shoulder.

    Loren snapped out of her trance and brushed a long strand

of brown hair out of her face. Surely, she’d know what resources

would be most helpful for completing this project. “Excuse me,”

Loren interrupted.

    “Ah, yes, Loren. How are you today?” Amida asked looking

down at Loren’s five foot one slender frame.

    “Oh, uh, okay, I suppose. But I’m stuck on a project Professor

Finkel assigned me. I mean, I’m not even sure where to start or

what I’ll need to know or worry about. I haven’t attended church

since I was about fifteen years old with the exceptions of weddings

or when Mom dragged us there for Grandmother’s birthday.”

    “Oh,” the librarian said. “He picked you this year. Well,

there are a few books that have been helpful over the years on

this assignment. It’ll be interesting knowing your conclusions

with such an unbiased analysis. You have little Christianity and

no Judaism background to sway you one way or the other…

Interesting choice for him. He must like you.”

    “I thought he liked me,” Loren said. “I’ve had him for

different classes. I must have ticked him off. I begged him for

a different assignment since I know nothing of either religion,

but he wouldn’t back down. I explained I relate to air, water,

plants, and animals as a form of meditation. He’s normally an

understanding professor. He’s even met me before or after class

answering questions about lessons I didn’t understand. Are

religious projects allowed to be assigned?”

    “Loren, don’t panic,” Amida said in a soothing tone. “Read

up on both religions. I’m sure Professor Finkel will be happy to

help fill in blanks.” She guided Loren to the religious section

and handed her a book from the top shelf while explaining,

    “Professor Finkel’s been assigning this project for about fifteen

years. The assignment’s been challenged numerous times as to

being allowed. To answer your earlier question, Professor Finkel’s

a licensed attorney who loves arguing. I don’t suggest bringing up

the legality of the issue. It’s a private college, not a governmentfunded

institution.”

    “Yes, I’d assumed that was the case.” Loren lowered her head

as if she was defeated. She took the first book from Amida and

read the title. The Torah Revealed by Avraham Yaakov Finkel. She

looked up at the librarian through her thin brown bangs. “Oh no.

Did he write this book?” She tried to recall Professor Finkel’s

first name. Jack, Jacob, Jeffery…Jeffery! That’s it!

    Reading Loren’s face, Amida saw she’d figured the correct

answer. “No, and when I asked him if they were related in any

way, he replied, ‘Not to my knowledge.’ So you don’t have to worry

about offending him on any views you write,” she reassured.

    Further down the aisle, the librarian handed her a book called

The Contemporary Torah: A Gender-Sensitive Adaptation of the JPS

Translation by Revising Editor, David E. S. Stein, consulting

editors, Adele Berlin, Ellen Frankel, and Carol L. Meyers.

    Without commenting, Amida went down another aisle, grabbed

and handed Loren the Holy Bible: The New International Version

and then the Believer’s Bible Commentary by William MacDonald.

    The weight of the hard covered books, totaling over nine

inches in height and weighing around ten pounds, felt like a

whole universe in Loren’s hands.

    Amida sensed Loren was overwhelmed by her pile. She

winked. “This’ll get you started. I’d ask search engines pointed

questions and follow up with the books for the honest answers.

Form your own opinions, as you’ve done all of your life. Don’t

let others influence or intimidate you from finding the truth.

Promise me that, will you?”

    Loren nodded and thanked her with all the enthusiasm she

could muster and returned to her study table.

    She looked up at the clock and quietly sighed to herself. “Six

o’clock already! No wonder I’m starving!”

    She glanced at her notepad again hoping it would miraculously

change this time but it didn’t. It was still the same assignment.

    She texted her friends, asking if any were coming to the

library. While waiting for replies, she pulled her laptop from her

backpack. Looking at the pile of books in the center of the table

she wondered how she’d fit everything into her backpack. And as

she placed her hand in the center of her back she imagined how

her back could handle such a load.

    She wondered if her boyfriend, Giles, would be joining them

tonight. On one hand, if he did come, he’d bring her something to

eat from the four-star Italian restaurant he worked. On the other

hand, being an atheist, he’d have his share of commentary on

her project. She didn’t need the added pressures of his opinions

telling her she shouldn’t do it to prove a point. He was passionate

against people forcing religion on him or others. She envisioned

his short black beard showing signs of a reddened face as he’d take

it personally and somehow shame her into not doing the project.

    She was relieved when his text read, “Stuck here 2nite. Relief

chef didn’t show.”

    Her phone vibrated with more texts. They were all on their

way: Amy, Collin, Drew, Jessica, Rachel, and Sarah.

    They’d decided dinner already. This meant, since it’s Thursday

night, Chinese closing special—again. She texted them back with

a sense of urgency: “I’m starving!”

    After a few minutes of browsing online, she logged off,

pouted, and called her mother. Loren was sure she’d know the

answer since she loved all that churchy stuff which occasionally

came between the two of them getting along nicely.

    Her mother, Diane, was short and struggled maintaining a

healthy weight; although, she didn’t look obese. Her blue eyes

and blond hair kept her looking younger than her actual age.

    “Hello?” Diane sung.

    “Hi, Mom, I’m checking in on you and Dad.”

    “Hi, sweetie! We’re well and getting ready for dinner. Is

everything okay?”

    “Oh, yeah, everything’s fine here. I’ve a lot of research and

won’t be making it home this month.”

    “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. Your father and I understand

assignments are important. What’s this assignment you sound so

excited about?”

    “I must prove Jewish people are making a mistake for not

accepting Jesus as their Messiah or prove they’re right in not

considering him. Any suggestions on how I go about doing that?

It’s unfair, Mom! You know how I feel about organized religion.

I don’t want this assignment. It’s a waste of my time and energy.

It won’t help either cause. How’s this helping me with my degree

in marketing? Sometimes, I think colleges scam students into

paying for classes they don’t need!”

    Diane rattled plates and pans. “Hold on, sweetie. I’m finishing

a couple of things so I can talk.” She turned the stove off and

signaled her husband to take up his dinner.

    Loren’s dad, Mitch, could tell by the scowl on Diane’s forehead

it was a serious conversation that couldn’t be tossed aside. After

thirty years of marriage, he knew that look.

    Diane carried the phone into the study while Loren had

continued talking.

    “...College extortion mandating expensive elective classes! Plus,

out of all the students in Professor Finkel’s class, why me? Why

didn’t he choose a theologian student?”

    Once Loren stopped ranting, Diane spoke. Her heart was

heavy with Loren’s dilemma, yet she was excited she was being

challenged in her beliefs or lack of them. “I hear what you’re

saying. I understand you’re annoyed. However, there must be a

reason for all this to be happening to you. Did he assign this

to everyone in your class? Is someone taking the same class on

a different day or time? Maybe you could pair up and use each

other’s notes?”

    Loren expected sympathy instead of questions. She calmed

down before responding. “He only teaches this class once a year.

He assigns a different project to each person in the class. We’ve

strict instructions not to contact nor use any notes or students

from prior years. We’re encouraged to interview, ask for help

from friends or relatives to gain different views, use traditional

reference materials—like Bibles or study guides—and the

Internet.” Perhaps, if she laid out all the work, she’d get sympathy

from her mother?

    “Loren, I know you don’t like attending church. I know you’ve

different ideas about God. I’m not even sure what you believe

in anymore. Frankly, it frightens me. You’ve fallen away from

God and how you were raised. However, I agree with you. This

might not be the best assignment for you at this time in your

life. You’re not ready to handle some of the truths you uncover.

You’re on a path where you’re confused about life, your passions,

and your beliefs. I’m not convinced you believe all the babble

that comes out of your mouth, nor do I feel you’re at peace with

your convictions.”

    “Mom, I didn’t call to argue religion or get your opinion on my

current life path. I called to find out what you know about these

two religions and if you’d help shed some light on the subject so

I can find the information, write it down, hand it in, and get a

passing grade.” Loren scowled through the phone.

    “Ha! If life and religion were that simple, my dear. Good luck

on that grade thing if that’s all you intend to do.” Her mother was

smiling. She knew once she added the challenges of not handling

the results, combined with not pursuing it all with the fullest

effort, she’d increase Loren’s desire to prove Momma wrong,

and in this case, Momma might win…or lose based on what

she discovers.

    Diane longed to see her child know the truth. Prayers would

be sent up daily on her church prayer chain. Diane continued,

    “Aw, don’t feel bad, sweetheart. I didn’t get it until I was in my

mid-thirties. It’s what we old people do. We settle down, become

still enough to listen to God, figure out our purpose, and then we

work on God’s plan for us. You can’t have a purpose if you don’t

believe in God who put you here for a purpose. Understand?”

    “Mom, I don’t have time to figure out my so-called purpose

as well as solve a two-thousand-year-old mystery all within a few

weeks! I gotta go. I’ll give you a call after the weekend unless I’ve

a specific question for you.”

    The conversation was quickly turning into a typical one

between Loren and her mother where her mother tried telling

Loren what to think or do or whom she should date or not live

with until her wedding vows were made. She was done listening

and needed to get working on the research. “I love you, Mom. I

hate to cut this short, but I’ve only a few weeks to cram all this

stuff together. Based on the books the librarian gave me to use,

it’s going to take a lot of my time.” She loved her mother and

knew she wasn’t deliberately aggravating her.

    “I understand, honey. I’ll pray the answers come to you. I

love you too.” Diane felt satisfied by Loren’s determined tone.

Diane longed to somehow keep Giles from having such a strong

influence on her daughter. She asked God to deliver undisputable

evidence to Giles of God’s existence.

    Diane climbed out of the recliner to go eat her cold meal. She

knew the professor had chosen the right student this year. She

thanked God for his divine intervention.

    Loren placed the warm phone next to her laptop. She was

determined to prove to her mother her toughness in handling

whatever scandals or epiphanies she discovers.

    She stared at the time on her phone, lifted her hair up and

placed the still warm phone on an aching neck muscle.

Why do I always fight Mom and Dad on attending church? She

remembered her mother arguing about her part-time coffee shop

job interfering with church services. Until then, she’d enjoyed

going as a child without issues.

    While waiting for the others to arrive, she allowed herself

to daydream about her church. It was a welcoming church

with padded pews instead of folding chairs she’s seen in other

churches. The bright white steeple could be seen for miles before

the actual low-ranch structure of the building came into view. It

wasn’t as ornate as the Catholic Church her friends Collin and

Jessica attended every Sunday on campus. Nor was it without

character like the new church Amy made her attend when it first

opened…although they served food, so it turned out to be nice.

    She’d always felt welcomed in her childhood church. She

recalled the different Sunday school teachers she’d had over the

years. Some were more memorable than others. She remembered

paper figures sticking to felt cloth sceneries as teachers told

stories from the Bible. She could still recall the smell of crayons

and glue as they made a craft about the lesson they’d learned.

Perhaps it was time to stop in and see what it looks like today.

    The thought sent a pang of homesickness.

    Amy showed up with a backpack, a suitcase-sized purse

hanging off of her right shoulder, a laptop hanging off of her left

shoulder, and her cell phone held to her ear while finishing up

a conversation. She wore navy blue scrubs with her sandy blond

hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her hard day was evident by the

smeared makeup under her brown eyes. She plopped her laptop

onto the table. Her purse dropped to the floor with a thud while

she wiggled the backpack off and set it in the chair next to her.

Loren stated, “I see you’re packed to run away soon,” waving

her arm across the table referring to Amy’s bags.

    “Ha, funny! I see you’re still working on your witty lines,” Amy

responded back in kind. “So we’re the first to arrive? What’s with

all the books? I thought you were down to labs and easy electives

this year?”

    Loren rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it sounded good in theory.

Apparently, Mr. Finkel assigns impossible projects every year to

each student in this class, confirmed by our librarian who helped

me pick out my books. Oh, and this report will count for 100

percent of my grade—no homework, no quizzes, only checking

on notes, and then the final report. After that, we get to go on

field trips at the cost of the college for the rest of the quarter.

Thankfully, they’re not mandatory. I thought it’d be an easy

credit. I was wrong.”

    “That sounds cool! So what are you researching?” Amy picked

up the Holy Bible. “Are you getting churchy?”

    “Um, no! It’s part of my assignment, which I know nothing

about. I’m hoping your churchy wisdom can add some insight.”

Loren slouched in her chair. She hated asking friends for help.

She didn’t mind helping others but hated asking for help.

    “Okay, I’ll help if I can. What’s it about?” Amy offered.

Just then, Collin and Drew walked around a bookshelf,

laughing and bumping each other trying to get the attention of

the girls. Both were grinning and trying to outdo the other in

a game only the two of them understood. Drew saw Loren and

Amy looking in their direction. He puffed his chest out and flexed

his arms showing them his rugby jersey could stretch quite a bit.

Not to be outdone by Drew, Collin flexed his pectoral muscles

beneath a tight white T-shirt.

    “Well, I see you’ve both had your testosterone levels elevated

by playing football today,” Loren remarked at their antics.

    They sat down, grinning from ear to ear. Amy and Loren kept

looking from one pasted smile to the other.

    Finally, Amy asked, “Are you two goofs going to start studying

something or keep pretending to be cheesy mannequins all

night?”

    Collin piped up, “I was thinking about going to grab the chow

for everyone first. What’s your order?” He extended his hand,

knowing it’d be four dollars from each since it’s a Thursday night.

    Loren handed four dollars to Collin. “I’ll have the usual

Chinese Thursday night special whatever it may be this week.

I’ll place odds it’ll be bourbon chicken, fried rice, lo mein, and a

rock-hard egg roll.”

    “Shouldn’t we wait for Jessica, Sarah, and Rachel?” Amy said

as she searched her purse for her wallet.

    Drew answered, “No, they already texted me to let me know

they were stopping there first before showing up at the library.

They wanted to know if you two had sent us ‘beefy boys’ out to

fetch the chow yet.”

    “Beefy boys?” Amy and Loren exclaimed at the same time

and laughed. Now, they understood why the boys were acting

up earlier.

    “Yes.” Collin lifted his chin. “That’d be us.”

    Laughter busted from everyone as they looked around to see if

they were disturbing anyone in their area. Luckily, they were the

only ones studying at this hour.

    Money in hand, Collin headed across the street to meet

the girls.

    One of Loren’s books caught Drew’s eye. “The Torah Revealed,”

he read out loud. “Are you changing your faith to Judaism?”

    Loren smirked. “Yeah, right. No offense, I mean, I don’t see

myself wanting to be subjected to any organized form of religion

right now. I’m only reading up on it so I can write a paper for

Professor Finkel’s class. However, maybe you could help me?”

    Drew looked her in the eye. He loved how Loren didn’t try

candy-coating her opinions for anyone. She was honest to a fault.

    “Not sure I can help. What do you need help with?”

    “I know nothing about Judaism or what you do in your church.

Do you even go to church?” She felt uncomfortable asking Drew

about his religious beliefs.

    “When I was younger, our family attended the synagogue.

Some people call it temple. However, don’t call it temple in front

of my grandfather. He doesn’t like that term. My grandfather

calls it beit k’nesset, which, means house of assembly. They cut

my dad’s pay at the firm, and the annual membership became

too expensive for us. After that, it became embarrassing for us to

hang around the synagogue all the time. Everyone knew.”

    Amy asked, “You pay an annual membership? Why don’t they

pass a plate around to collect a tithe each week like they do at our

church? Most don’t even tithe, yet they’re still welcomed.”

    Drew answered, “We aren’t allowed to carry money into the

synagogue on holidays or Sabbath. You’re allowed to worship

there without being a member. However, if you want a seat for

Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur, you’d better be a member and

have paid for a reserved seat since they draw a packed service.”

    “So why didn’t you go if you didn’t have to be a member to the

worship part?” Amy was curious.

    Loren took notes as fast as her fingers could write.

    Drew explained, “My father still made a decent living, but

with three kids, it seemed we always lived paycheck to paycheck.

I suspect my mother’s spending habits didn’t change with his

lower pay. My dad never complained. Husbands live to please

and accommodate their wives. It’s the Jewish way.” Drew didn’t

seem bothered by it or annoyed at his mother. It was stated as a

matter of fact.

    Loren stopped writing. “Drew, that’s the first thing anyone’s

ever said about any religion that appeals to my liking! The men

live to please and accommodate their wives!” She reread her notes

and asked, “Why do you suppose your grandfather doesn’t like

the synagogue being called temple?”

    Drew answered, “There’s no supposing. He doesn’t like it

because he feels there’s only one temple, the one in Jerusalem,

which will be restored once the Messiah or, as we say, Mashiach

comes.”

    Loren fired another question. “So it needs to be restored?

Why don’t they just do it? Certainly, there are architects and

builders there.”

    Amy answered for Drew, “The spot where the temple’s

supposed to be is now occupied by a Muslim mosque called The

Dome of the Rock.”

    “Very good, Amy. You’re correct.” Drew further explained,

“The original temple was built back in Solomon’s time. During

the Babylonian exile, it was partially destroyed and then rebuilt,

making it the second temple destroyed.”

    Sarah, Jessica, Collin, and Rachel arrived with their dinners.

    Loren placed her notes under her laptop for safekeeping. The

noise caused the librarian to poke her head around the corner,

making the “sh” sign to those facing her. Loren and Collin raised

their hands to quiet everyone.

    When they’d finished eating, Jessica said, “Well, it’s not the

greatest-tasting stuff, but it does the job when you’re starving.”

Everyone agreed.

    “Rachel,” Drew addressed, “Loren’s been quizzing me on our

Jewish synagogues and the temple. Her project’s due in a few

weeks. It’s been a while since I’ve attended any of the beit midrash

or beit tefilah. Perhaps you can help too.”

    Loren pulled out her notes and held up her hand to stop

the conversation. “Wait! Okay, what were those two places you

mentioned? Beit rashes and beit teflon?”

    Drew corrected her, “Beit midrash, a house of study, and beit

tefilah, a house of prayer, are both inside our synagogue.”

    Amy worked on her homework while listening.

    Jessica, being a newcomer to the conversation, welcomed

learning about Judaism without having to do the prodding. She

was slightly overweight with a muffin top over the sides of her

jeans which she did her best to keep hidden with long, loose

fitting tops. Her short, thin, dark hair curled under naturally at

her chin and drew attention to her face. Her full cheeks gave her

the appearance of always smiling.

    Sarah prayed for a different topic. Religious topics always

made her uncomfortable due to her strict Baptist upbringing.

Her red hair cascaded down to the middle of her back in large

ringlets. She worked out daily to maintain her curvy yet firm

body and liked to accentuate it with fashionable style.

    Rachel sat straight up in her chair as if she were ready to

play her piano. Since she worked at the high-end art gallery she

was always dressed in the latest glamour fashion. Her constant

proper posture and slender frame made her seem taller than

her five foot two height. She missed attending synagogue. She

loved volunteering at the social welfare agency, the social center,

participating in prayers, and instructing educational classes.

    Collin sat defensively, waiting for Drew to make an offhanded

Christian remark. He was the taller of the two men. He’d started

shaving his head in high school when his hair began thinning.

The look on him was natural and clean looking. His eyes reflected

the intensity of concern or fun he was instigating. He often used

his eyes to convey his message without using a word.

    Drew, like Collin, always maintained a clean looking image

by keeping his light brown hair very short and spiky. Although

he had a perfect body like Collin, his dimples were his greatest

feature. When he smiled, his whole face became a chiseled piece

of masculine art.

    They were a diverse group, from different cultures, income

levels, and beliefs. They were friends, the best kind of friends you

find in college that last a lifetime.