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In my mind I must stay. This is not my time. These are not my peeps in yet to watch an end of time is no fun.

As many of you know I use to live in the library during the day light hours of the 1970s. I spent my time with Lewis, Tolken, Jordan, Rice, before it became cool or interesting to the masses.

On a trip between Montana, and North Dakota I visited a rather large library on the plains of North Dakota on October 31st Halloween. The library looked like a bank built in the 20s. I got to spend a few hours there by chance due to the family and car troubles. I rapidly found an ole favorite the Hobbit in the back of the library of course where the loners usually just enjoy the peace and quiet. I quickly read through the first 200 or so pages stopping where the dwarfs were imprisoned prior to their release by Bilbo.

Just when the dwarf’s prison doors were to be opened; knowingly, since I had read the book a few times before a book popped out the shelf and fell open next to me reading the Hobbit. Humor how life happens at times no trick or treats or custom but a ghostly hand to drop a book. The book was something I had not read nor touched before Harry Smith. Odd that the book definitely was not categorized by the author last name nor title of the book for a library category. So I was unsure why it was here. Putting the book back in its place an older boring colored Hardcover caught my attention. Grabbing at it instead of pulling it from the shelf it bent backward and made me jump back, as I could hear a click, and the whole shelf swung against me as if a door opening. And to that point, the shelf pulled hesitant with my hand.

The librarian was nowhere to be found. I believe she went out forgetting me. So with no one to stop me, I pulled the door open. There on the floor was a pill of envelopes, and from the light from a window over the chair I was using, I could see a light with a pull string light. Bending over reading the address, I was the majority referred to a Mr. Babsy. Humor someone’s Hemingway hideout? Who knows anyway pulling the chain lighted a small room. A table, what looked like a still? The pill of envelopes and a small looking medical gad was what I could see. Being venturous I went through the envelopes. Which had wonderful 20s stamps all addressed to Baby? Trying to figure out why their presence was there I noticed a mail drop between the back of the door.

Well, I guess if someone was to hide a room a library was as good as a place as any. What surprised me most were the lack of dust. Any ways moving into the room, I started to review the books on the table. The first was a ledger accounting it seemed of a business operation of medicine? No I suppose after seeing a liquor bottle. There in the ledger were little towns that appeared in North Dakota, South Dakota, Montana, Illinois, Minnesota, and other small towns that I recognized from my travels with my mom since the split up of my folks. It seemed these were major illegal operations built on the plains of North Dakota. Similar stories were told about the Kennedy’s moonshine hold in Havre, Montana. Looking at the next book it seemed like a personal diary. There I could read the last date 1929 written about a Mr. Babsy and venture of moon shine. The journal was given by someone's Limburg for a birthday gift to a Major Babsy. Reading the dairy about Mr. Babsy seemed to be in love with someone. He had it bad. Seemed obsessive to appoint that I realized I had never fallen head over heals in love before. It seemed to detail that Mr. Babsy was a local that was planning to take and make himself a rich person.

Humor he even gave some detail on back accounts and politicians a few of them; I heard about from history class. One name I saw I did not expect was my great grand father. Well, I knew the righteous stories on how he made it in flax in the 40s. Seeing his name there made me wonder a bit but life is a mixture of chance opportunities. Anyway venturing into the boxes one contained several old medicine bottles labels peeling with age and odd color liquor look inside. Another box had a letter on it without an envelope. Opening the letter which was addressed to someone whose name I had heard in the old folk’s home where my great grandfather lived. Think that I even knew about this person what a small world we live in. The letter was telling him that if Mr. Babsy might never come back; from reading the content the letter it was sort of a last will and testament from Mr. Babsy. The letter went into how several small communities were being used, and their libraries were being used to store medicine, etc. Opening the box under the letter, there were roughly fifty thousand dollars in one dollars the year 1920 stamped on them. The box looked half full. Humor what one expected and what one gets are two things. I closed the box. Thinking I needed to talk with my grandfather prior to doing anything. After a bit of thinking, I kept the dairy, 20 dollars in one-dollar bills from the box replacing them with a 20-dollar bill my father gave me on his recent visit to me. My parents of course being separated tried to buy my love at times. I also toke the letters unopened. Pulling on the chain the light chain broke while closing the self back. Going into the library, I pushed the shelf into place. I went to the door. Humor the librarian had locked me in with a note saying she was out for lunch. Well, life happens so I went to the rear to my seat and begin another time the Tale of there and back again. Later in the evening, the librarian awoke me by turning on all the lights, and my mom was calling my name.