The Memory Librarian by Janelle Monáe

Author:Janelle Monáe [Monáe, Janelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2022-03-15T17:00:00+00:00

TIMEBOX

Raven didn’t know she was listening to the radiator, but she was. She squinted through the window of the third-floor sunroom, watching a man outside on the street. At first, he had kicked the tires of his car, talking to himself and shaking his head. But now he laid his whole upper body against the hood as though embracing the car, pleading with it, cajoling it to work. A drone whizzed above his head, doing its abrupt and skittish hummingbird dance midair, its red camera indicator light blinking. He did not seem to notice. Finally, the man stood and tipped his head back, looking into the sky, and covered his eyes with his hand. He seemed to be crying. Raven fumbled with the locks on the windowpane. Two right to open? Or two left? Or one left, one right, facing away? She could never remember. The locks had been painted over and over, and as she tugged at one, tiny white splinters leaped into the air, sticking to the damp glass.

“What are you doing? It’s freezing out.”

Raven jumped, banging her knuckle against the windowpane. She turned, feeling guilty without knowing why. Akilah took her injured hand and brought it to her face, examining it closely before kissing Raven’s aching finger.

“There’s a dude outside with a broke-down car. Stressed. I was just wondering if we could do something.”

Akilah arched a brow. “You fix cars now? From three stories up?”

Raven felt a hotness rise around her neck. “No. I dunno—I thought we could call somebody maybe. Or maybe he’s out of gas. Just thought I would ask.”

Akilah’s eyes slid over the slivers of white paint on the dark hardwood floor. “Got it. I just came in here to see what all this noise is about. I guess it’s this thing.” She slapped at the radiator, then pulled her hand away. “Ow!”

“You okay, babe? That’s hot.”

“Yeah, I see that now.”

“Sorry. It’s a radiator.”

Raven regretted the condescension as soon as the sentence was out of her mouth. She hadn’t meant it like that. But taking conscious stock of the radiator for the first time sent her mind elsewhere. When she heard the word come out of her own mouth, it was as though someone had shifted a radio dial out of the static and into the glory of a song you danced to in middle school, and Raven paused to take in the keen singing of the metal. The hot hiss, low whistle, and the bang-bang-bang that meant warmth was coming.

Akilah glared at the radiator accusingly. “It must be broken.” She leaned forward to examine it. “We can get the maintenance woman to come take a look at it when she does the dishwasher. It’s not pulling off the food for the compost chute and it’s not sorting the dishes.”

So, it just washes dishes, Raven thought. Best to save that battle for later. Triage. “The radiator’s not broken,” she said, stepping past Akilah, out of the sunroom and into the living room. “It’s just old.

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