Beyond the South End

Kendall Merriam

South End Poet

 

(This is a story Kendall passed out to visitors to his booth at this year’s Maine Boats, Homes, and Harbors Show this summer. He shares it with you this month.)

 Diane and the Locked Cabinet

For Diane Silverman

 

            On her sixteenth birthday Diane went to the town library as usual. She knew her parents were planning ice cream and cake after supper but it would all be family, no handsome boys, no sharply dressed girls. That didn’t bother her in the least, she lived in books.

            As she entered the library, Mrs. Beezely, the assistant librarian called to her, “Diane today you can graduate to the adult reading room and I have just the right book for you. Please come with me.”

            Mrs. Beezely was short and stout with long brown braids wrapped around her head in a European fashion. Diane only knew that her husband was a dentist and they had a daughter in college. The rest of the knowledge she had about Mrs. B., as she secretly called her, were the books they had talked about.

            Mrs. B led her to a locked glass and wood cabinet and opened it with a special key Diane had never seen before. The librarian selected a book and held it so Diane couldn’t see the title. Then Mrs. B. said, “You are a solitary young lady with an inquiring mind. This book will change your life, even though you may not understand the whole book on first reading.” Then she passed the book to Diane and she saw it was called The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud—she was not sure how to pronounce his last name, but took it eagerly. “May I read a bit before I go home for supper?”

            “Of course, you are no longer a child, Diane, you may now use the adult reading room—there is intellectual magic in that book—go ahead.”

            Diane immediately went to the room, pulled out a bentwood chair and sat at the long oak table.

            She opened the book and started reading for the first time of what would be many readings to understand the complex book.

            After she had only read three pages, a man about forty, with a beard and unusual clothing came into the reading room, sat down opposite her, and said in a loud voice, “What are you reading?”

            She showed him the book and noticed he smelled strongly of cigar smoke.

            The man said to her, “Some people say it is all ersatz or as you Americans call it ‘pure bunkum’”. Diane replied, “I don’t know sir, I’ve only read three pages.”

            The man plucked at his beard and said, “If you are lucky some day you will understand it. I certainly don’t.”

            With that, he stood, turned and strode out of the room.