Ring-necked Pheasant

 

I was in the library alone this week when the 11 year old boy came bursting through the front doors, ran up to the desk, and asked how much the library pays me.  I'd seen him before.  His mother had come in a few weeks ago and signed him up for a library card.  He'd been in every Thursday since then to use the computers.  "I'm a volunteer.  I don't get paid."  I told him.  That stymied him for a moment.  "What do the other people get paid?" he asked.   "We are all volunteers.  Only the librarian is paid."  I said.  "Whose the librarian?"  Thought I'd seen them talking together before but maybe he didn't realize, "Trevor is the librarian." I answered.   Surprised, the boy said, "That old guy that sits in the back room?"   Librarian Trevor is at least 20 years my junior - hate to think how this kid refers to me.   "How much does he get paid?"   I knew the answer when I was town clerk and the town signed off on the library budget but that was years ago.  "I don't know but ..." a couple of quick keystrokes "... the average pay for a librarian in our state is $68,000."  "How old do I have to be to be a librarian?"  the lad asked.  Just as suddenly as he came in, he bolted out not even waiting for an answer.   Well, at least I didn't have to explain the training and certification that goes into the job.  About fifteen minutes later he was back again.  "How do you pay rent if they don't pay you anything?"  I opened my mouth to speak but he said, "You must own your own house."  I just nodded.  Saved me explaining the various types of funding for retirement.  He then raced over to the stacks and picked out three books.  He wanted to check out those books and use a computer.  I took his library card and told him to go ahead and use a computer.  I'd bring over his books once they were checked out.  He did that and then looked over at me and said, "If my mother ever calls don't tell her I'm on the computer."  I gave him my best angelic smile and said, "I won't do that."  Again, that stymied look on his face.  He'd picked a computer where his back was to me and I could easily see what was on the screen.  I don't look at what people are doing on a computer unless they call me over for help w/ something on the screen.  I was now concerned that the boy didn't want his mother to know he was on the computer.  I watched for a short while what he was looking at.    It actually was age appropriate and kinda educational from what I could tell.  All in all, I'm very glad I'm not a pre-teen teacher.