Shadow Life by Michael Decter

Author:Michael Decter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC019000 FICTION / Literary FIC045000 FICTION / Family Life / General FIC025000 FICTION / Psychological
ISBN: 9781770866683
Publisher: Cormorant Books
Published: 2022-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Remembering Student Days

Matt stood on the flat stone plaza that served as the entrance of Harvard Chapel, directly across from the seventy-two steps leading to the entrance of Widener Library. He noted the full name carved in stone above the pillars and portico: Harry Elkins Widener Memorial Library. As he stood thinking about his first visit to Widener in over thirty years, a tour guide arrived behind him with a group of visitors in tow. The guide wore a bright green T-shirt and spoke loudly, not a shout but a booming Southie Boston voice, pointing out the Widener’s broad steps and magnificent facade and pillars.

No r’s, Matt remembered. When he’d first arrived as a freshman, he had difficulty following conversations. Beer was “beh” and car was “cah.” Harvard became “Hahvahd” in the vernacular.

Matt walked slowly up the seventy-two steps. He felt eighteen again, alive with his whole life ahead of him. A true homecoming. He remembered so clearly, although it had been thirty years, that one had a choice going up the stairs at Widener Library. The stairs were constructed in such a manner that if one climbed up one stair at a time, it was a dull, slow shuffle, unsuited to anyone but the elderly. Going up two at a time was not a normal step. It required a certain bounding. Matt figured the step design might have been twofold: To encourage the elderly scholars to move at a safe gait on their way to that sanctuary for learning. On the other hand, the double bounce gave students an air of energy and forward drive, and all those things that shouted intensity — the intensity Harvard so valued.

Tucked carefully inside Matt’s Harris Tweed jacket was a letter on Harvard stationary from Professor O’Connell, addressed to the head librarian of the library. Matt imagined that he wouldn’t actually meet with the head librarian, but it seemed a nice touch on the elderly professor’s part to personalize it by addressing it that way. And, he thought, this should scare the bejesus out of anyone on the front desk, likely some student earning the funds necessary to help pay for such a princely education.

There had been a good deal of renovation to the library over the thirty years since Matt had last passed through its portal. He also noted that security, always significant, was massively strengthened. He felt better about the letter in his pocket. The only way in required Matt to swipe a Harvard identification card, which he did not possess. He showed the letter and his passport for photo identification. After a remarkably short period of time, Matt was ushered into the famed stacks of Widener Library.

Stacks — shelves that sit on their own foundation — had revolutionized the architecture of libraries. They didn’t require the enormous weight of the books to be borne by the walls. There was no way in the world that Widener Library — when he was a student, the fifth largest library in the

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