Twelve Angry Librarians

As I made my way to the front of the hotel and the meeting rooms, I kept a careful watch. At the registration table I picked up my name badge, the obligatory canvas tote bag, and a conference program. Having left my printouts on my desk at the library, I scanned the latter to see what sessions might tempt me. I checked my watch. The ten o’clock programs were about to start. There was a presentation on effective management of electronic resources that sounded promising. I stuck the program in my bag and hurried off to find the meeting room.

Ninety minutes later I emerged from a stimulating, informative session, and made my way to the nearest men’s room. After I finished there, I headed into the hallway and scanned the milling crowd. There was a break until the luncheon at noon—the luncheon for which Gavin Fong was the keynote speaker. I was tempted to ditch it and find my lunch elsewhere, because I had no desire to listen to Gavin opine on anything. Lisa Krause needed my support, however, and I had to make a good showing since the college library was ostensibly the host of the conference.

There was no sign of Gavin anywhere in the crowd. After a few minutes of wandering closer to the ballroom foyer, I found Marisue and Randi in conversation with a woman who looked vaguely familiar. I walked up to them in time to hear Randi say, “Why, Maxine, that’s ridiculous.”

Maxine. She was the woman who approached Gavin yesterday right after I knocked him down.

“That’s what I told him,” Maxine replied, “but you know he never listens to anyone’s advice. There’s no telling what may happen in there. He’s his own worst enemy.”

Marisue noticed me. “Hi, Charlie. How are you? Have you met Maxine Muller? She’s the associate library director for public services at the college where she and Gavin Fong work.” She quirked one eyebrow, and I took the signal to mean I should be careful what I said about Gavin.

“I’m doing fine. Hope you’re both doing well. Nice to meet you, Ms. Muller. I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves so far.”

Maxine Muller hadn’t really looked at me until I spoke directly to her, but when she did, her face paled, and she took a step backward. “You’re the man who attacked Gavin yesterday.”

“We had an altercation, yes.” I didn’t like the word attack in reference to my striking him, since he tried to hit me first. “I regret that it happened, and I hope you will convey that message to Gavin for me.”

She nodded, then abruptly turned and walked away. Randi and Marisue exchanged what I would have called a knowing glance. Randi nodded.

“Is she in love with Gavin?” I asked, because I knew that was exactly what they were thinking.

Marisue shrugged. “Possibly, though I can’t imagine why.”

“Because she’s probably the type that always falls for an idiot like Gavin.” Randi shook her head. “How he finds them, I don’t know. Or I guess they find him.”

“No accounting for taste.” I smiled. “I couldn’t help overhear that last bit of your conversation with her as I approached. What were you talking about, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Why should we mind?” Randi asked. “You’re going to find out in a little while anyway.”

Marisue explained. “Maxine told us the gist of Gavin’s keynote speech for the luncheon. Apparently he’s going to spend forty-five minutes telling us how we are all shortly to become obsolete.”

I groaned. “Not that crap again. I’m so sick of hearing how we’re no longer needed because everyone can find what they need online without our help.”

“You know it’s crap, and we know it’s crap.” Randi looked angry. “Students don’t know the first thing about research these days, and even many of the faculty can’t figure out how to navigate an online journal or a database.”

“But the problem is, so many of them don’t think they need us.” Marisue appeared unruffled. “Many of them don’t even realize that they can only access research materials on the Internet because the library licenses them and pays for them on their behalf.”

“I know,” Randi said. “I had a tenured professor, a man who certainly ought to know better, tell me the library was unnecessary because he could get what he wanted online. He and the others like him don’t have a clue about licensing.”

“I’m sure you set him straight on that point.” I grinned at her.

“You’d better believe I did,” Randi said. “That and a few other things as well, like the fact that his hand had no business on my knee or any other part of my body.”

Marisue, who had been looking past Randi toward the ballroom doors, said, “They’re letting people in now. Let’s go find a table near the back. I want to be able to get out quickly if there’s a riot.” She walked off, and Randi and I followed.