Chapter 15 — Second Floor Library Girl

Ngoc's family meals usually have more cutlery than people at the table, but tonight there were just as many questions.

Her father invited a representative of the student group to his house to hear opinions about the plan. Ngoc knew he wanted to create a feeling of openness, but when she looked at the long dining table and the waiter placing each towel, she worried that her friends wouldn't be able to say anything.

Bao looked at the set of glasses and whispered: "If I break one, how many cakes will I have to sell?"

Minh Chau lightly kicked his foot. Lam sat up straight, Phuc looked around without comment.

Ngoc said to her father before the meal: "Dad, don't turn this into a reception."

“Dad just wants everyone to be comfortable.”

“People will be more comfortable if they can pick up their own food.”

Father signaled the waiter to place the order in the middle of the table. Bao breathed a sigh of relief.

“How many rooms does your house have?” Bao asked then covered his mouth.

Ngoc replied: "More than necessary."

Phuc looked at her. “At least you answered.”

The meal started with soup and Bao didn't know which spoon to use. Phuc showed him, Lam said to just use the nearest one. Bao chose the middle one, then declared it an independent decision.

Father Ngoc began by introducing three options. The remaining plan requires structural repairs and limiting the number of people. The partial renovation plan keeps the second floor but builds additional storage. The new construction plan creates a larger center but loses the current building.

“If you only look at money, the new construction plan has the advantage,” he said. “If we look at the value of use, more data is needed.”

Minh Chau asked who would manage the new center. An Nhien representative said it is possible to set up an operating fund with the school and neighborhood. Phuc asked if the fund had a fixed amount. The answer is not yet.

“So it can't be called a commitment,” Phuc said.

Father Ngoc was not offended. He took notes.

Lam asked if the name of the person who donated the book would be kept. Company representatives said they could set up a memorial area. Lam said the souvenir area does not replace having books used.

Bao asked if the new center allows eating bread. Everyone looked at him.

“This is a matter of practical use,” he explains. “If it is completely banned, students will not stay long.”

Phuc said: "You can reserve a separate dining area."

“I want the dining area to have an outlet.”

Ngoc asked why.

“To charge the phone of the person waiting for the parents.”

The question seemed small but caught the entire table's attention. A friendly library needs to take into account that readers come from different backgrounds, not just come to sit still.

Dad asked Ngoc what he thought. She said the design should not be finalized before asking students, teachers and the neighborhood. He nodded.

After the main course, the waiter brought out a dessert plate. Bao looked at Ngoc and asked if every rich family's meals had many dishes.

Ngoc said: "No. One day I ate noodles."

“Do you need a knife and fork for noodles here?”

"Are not."

Phuc couldn't help but laugh. Father Ngoc also smiled, for the first time that night.

Phuc's grandmother did not come, but Phuc received a text message reminding her about the medicine. Ngoc saw that he finished reading and was worried. She asked if she needed to leave early. Phuc said Mr. Khai would take them home in the car, and grandmother had a neighbor next door.

Father Ngoc heard and suggested calling a private car. Phuc immediately said no need, he could take the bus. Dad didn't force him, just gave him the address of a garage near his house if he needed his car repaired.

Ngoc looked at Phuc. He didn't want to accept the help associated with her father. I also think that you should put the business card on the table and not push it further.

After the meal, the group visited Ngoc's family reading room. The room is next to the mail room, with high wooden shelves, yellow lights and computer system. Bao stood in the middle and whispered:

“I feel like I need to clean my shoes before I go in.”

Ngoc said: "There is a cleaner here."

Phuc looked at the books lined up straight. “Did you use it all?”

"Are not."

“So many books can also be a kind of silence.”

Ngoc did not object. She used to think having her own library meant she was lucky, but she never asked how many people could use it.

Father stood at the door. He said this room used to be where he worked when he first established An Nhien, and there were some books from An Hoa school. Ngoc asked him if he remembered any books.

"There's a history of journalism book. Dad borrowed it and returned it late."

“Have you paid yet?”

He laughed. “I thought I sent it back during the book giveaway.”

Phuc asked: "Do you have a certificate?"

Father Ngoc looked at him, then smiled genuinely. "No. Maybe that's why Ms. Hanh still keeps her father's name in the book."

Ngoc said the notebook page was lost. Her father smiled less. He asked Ms. Hanh if she knew. Ngoc said the group is investigating, but has not concluded.

“Good,” father said. “Don't let an old page become a reason to accuse anyone.”

“But don't erase it from the story,” Ngoc replied.

Father looked at her, understanding that his daughter was talking about more than the page.

On the bus back, Phuc sat next to Ngoc, Bao and Lam in the back seat. He asked if dinner was unpleasant.

“A little.”

“You're used to it.”

“Being familiar with that place doesn't mean I want everyone to have to struggle.”

“Did you tell dad?”

"Already."

“Does he hear?”

“Studying.”

Phuc looked out the window. “I'm also studying.”

“Learn what?”

“How to sit in a big house without feeling like you're bothering yourself.”

Ngoc didn't know how to answer. She just moved her book bag aside to give him more room.

The next day, the group met on the second floor to summarize opinions after dinner. Bao wrote on the board: private dining area, socket, opening hours, right to keep the donor's name, operating fund, path for disabled people. Lam added the section "do not turn students into advertising images".

Phuc added, "There is someone responsible when promises are not kept." Ngoc looked at that sentence for a long time.

“Who do you want responsible?” she asked.

“The person who signed the pledge.”

Ngoc nodded. She continued: "The commitment must have a deadline, a way to check and a recipient of feedback."

Bao looked at the board. “We are turning the library into an international treaty.”

Minh Chau said: "At least this treaty has cake."

In the afternoon, father sent an update on the plan. An Nhien accepts the study of retaining the entire exterior of building B and the second floor if the structure allows, and does not use student photos for promotion before obtaining consent. That's not the final decision, but it's a clear first step.

Ngoc sent it to the group. Phuc read and said: "This is a good thing."

“Do you trust your father more?”

"I trust a document more than words. But we still need to see what they do."

Ngoc smiled. “You are the one who returned the book late but read the terms carefully.”

Phuc bowed his head. “I'm fixing both.”

The second floor that night had a small sign: "This space was designed together." Ngoc did not sign his name. She wants people to look at the sentence, not at the person who wrote it.

The next day, two opposing pieces of paper appeared on the board. One piece wants to add armchairs, the other piece suggests removing all soft chairs because people who sit for too long will take up space. Minh Chau said both are reasonable. Ngoc suggests trying an armchair for three days, recording the time of use and asking the waiter.

Bao accepted the responsibility placing the hourglass on the table. He said that people who sit too long will see the sand flowing and make room for themselves, but Phuc said not everyone reads the same reminder. The group agreed to set up a registration schedule for busy hours, while off hours are unlimited.

A 12th grader asked if new people are given lower priority than people who are already familiar with the group. Ngoc replied that the registration order must be made public. She suggested having a "need a quiet place" box, so that the person on duty can arrange accordingly instead of just arranging according to time. Minh Chau added that box to the form.

In the afternoon, the neighborhood library called, offering to exchange books. They cannot accept all of them due to lack of space, so they set criteria: the books are usable, have clear origins, are suitable for students, and do not require the recipient to pay a fee. Ngoc asked for Ms. Hanh's opinion, but did not decide on her own.

Phuc is in charge of transporting by bicycle with box. He asked Ngoc if he wanted to go with him. She said she could, but she had to wear a helmet. Phuc gave her an extra hat, which fit better than she thought. They went through small roads, slower than Ngoc's family's car, but saw many shops and sellers.

At the neighborhood library, a librarian showed them the children's reading room. She asked Ngoc why a student would care about budget and usage rights. Ngoc said because if people don't know where the money goes, they will think everything appears naturally. The librarian nodded and gave the group an old notebook to write down unanswered questions.

Returning, Ngoc placed the notebook next to the planning board. The second floor begins with an address larger than the entire building, and a group of people who know that exchange isn't just about taking books away and bringing them back; It's about learning how to keep your promises to users.

The next day, the group tried using an old notebook to write down their promise. Each line has a recipient, a to-do, and a review date. Phuc received a shelf check before the next exchange. Lam agreed to ask the neighborhood library about the book list. Tell everyone not to put cakes near book boxes.

Ngoc writes her name on the last line, in charge of announcing what has been completed and what has not. Ms. Hanh asked why it was necessary to publish the unfinished part. Ngoc said because if you only show off the good parts, new people will think everything works naturally, and then get discouraged when they encounter difficulties.

In the afternoon, a 10th grade student found the notebook and asked to write a promise that was not part of the group: "I will return the storybook before the date written on the card." Phuc said it's a small promise but it can help others believe in the list. Ngoc allows it, as long as she doesn't write down other people's private information.

At night, Ngoc reread different lines in the same notebook. Adults wrote about calendars, students wrote about books, and Bao drew a sandwich with a helmet on. She realized that a common place does not need everyone to be the same; it needs enough rules so that being different doesn't push anyone out.