The Pharmacist and The Prince

preface/ˈprɛfəs/ : an introduction to a book, typically stating its subject, scope, or aims. Ebony walked up the stairs of the Priesthood Municipal Library building, straining as she pushed the heavy wooden doors. Next week, she had a nasty pharmacology exam coming up but that was not why she was here. Every Saturday, she volunteered at the library to help the elderly couple who ran the place. She loved the job and there were several benefits to it. She got to spend time with the lovely couple and learn from their experiences. They had become her very close friends. She also got to borrow books and keep them for long periods of time without worrying about a fine. The most important benefit was that she got to read all the books she wanted to for free. And that’s why she was here now. It was not a Saturday; it was a Sunday. And she had come to pick up the fantasy novel she had seen the day before. It was a large, first edition novel written over 100 years ago and after begging and pleading, she had gotten the owners’ permission to read the book. She had to swear not to take it out of the library, though. Stopping at the front desk to greet the couple, she picked up a box of sweets at the table, winking at the elderly woman when she raised her brows in disapproval. “Too much of those sweets aren’t good for you. You’re a pharmacy student. You should know better.” Ebony laughed. Who knew how many times she had heard that before. “I do know better. I also know you live only once.” She shook the sweet box at the woman. “So, I’m going to head over and devour this, okay?” “Don’t get sugar all over that first edition or I’ll kill you,” the elderly woman called out to Ebony as she headed down an aisle of books to her favourite spot. “I’ll try but no promises.” Ebony called back. Normally, they wouldn’t talk so loudly but it was Sunday and there was no one else in the library. That was the major reason Ebony came today. She wanted to read and immerse herself in the classic without anyone walking about and destroying her concentration. She arrived at the sun-lit, window spot she loved, then dropped her bag and sweets on the table. Turning to her left, she headed to the stairs that led to the basement. The basement was where the couple and the other library workers kept special books. There was a safe in the basement and the books were kept there, frequently treated and aired to preserve the quality of the old books as much as possible. It was a sign of immense trust that Ebony knew the passcode to this safe. She had teared up when the couple took her downstairs and showed her the code and how to open the safe. She was determined not to betray their trust. Nothing must happen to this book, she told herself as she typed in the passcode, opened the safe and lifted the classic book from the safe. It was truly beautiful. The dark-red cover of the book had the telling of age on it but it still gleamed under the fluorescent light. The edges of the book were lined with solid gold and the cover was embossed with the drawing of a tree. She ran her hand over the cover, feeling the smoothness and tracing the outline of the tree. She raised the book to her nose and sniffed it. It smelled exactly as she had imagined. Sawdust, coffee and the deep forest. It was time to read. She hefted the book in one arm and used the other to close the safe and lock it. She smiled and bounced a bit as she climbed the stairs back up. Once she got to her desk and dropped the century-old book softly on the table, she sat down, reached into her backpack and fished out the soft chair pillow she always brought to the library. It helped prevent backaches when people sat and read for a long period of time. And guess who would be sitting and reading the whole day? Her. She also fished out a bottle of water and a tube of hand sanitizer. It was a known fact that you did not touch first editions with dirty hands. After a few squeezes of the tube, putting the pillow in place and a bonbon in her mouth, Ebony was ready. She clasped the book gently and lifted the cover. The first thing she noticed was how heavy the cover was. Of course, the entire book was heavy but she was shocked about how much weight was in the cover alone. She wondered why. Then she looked at the gold that was used to line the cover. “Hmmphf. I guess they were trying to be fancy. I don’t see the need for all this gold,” she muttered to herself. She then turned her attention to the preface of the book. In the most stunning calligraphic she had ever seen, the following words were written: I am the Bookkeeper. I am under oath to my king to record the tales of our great kingdom. Tales of the past, tales of the present and tales of the future. Yes, all the tales. You who pick up this book. Are you worthy? Are you deserving? Are you brave? Worthy of what? Deserving of what? Brave enough for what? Worthy of saving our kingdom. Deserving of preserving our future. Brave enough to defend our borders. Examine your heart, o reader and peer into your soul. If you deem yourself worthy, if you deem yourself deserving, if you deem yourself brave, then it is nothing but the foolishness of the heart. Turn the page, my dear reader and I shall show you if you truly are. How intense. Ebony stared at the page, reading and rereading the words over and over again. Such an intense preface. Was the writer trying to scare people off? Not that the words were really frightening. They just happened to strike a chord within her. And she suddenly found herself asking if she was worthy, deserving and brave. She was not. She just wanted to use the book to escape the fact that she had a killer exam next week. Don't kill me, she told the so-called Bookkeeper in her mind. She had been wanting to read the book for a long time and nothing-not even a frightening preface-can scare her off. She was ready. She flipped the page and realized she wasn’t so ready after all.