Chapter 28 — Second Floor Library Girl

The result didn't feel like a victory, so the class had to learn to have fun without clapping too early.

The school board announced the selected plan: retain the exterior of building B and the second floor reading room, build a new block behind with an elevator, book warehouse and common classroom. The project will be implemented in two phases. During construction, the library was temporarily moved to the classroom on the first floor.

The second floor was kept, but had to be closed for six months.

After listening, Bao asked: "Is it considered a win if you keep it and close it?"

Phuc said: "It's up to you what you do for six months."

Ngoc read the minutes. There are provisions for access, opening hours, operating budget and evaluation after six months. An Nhien partially supports materials and structural evaluation, without naming the brand. The school is responsible for operations. The Student Council has the right to comment every quarter.

Hoang Duy said the intermediate plan is better than the original drawing. He still regrets not having a complete center right away, but accepts the roadmap.

Ngoc did not feel completely light. She thought of the room covered with tarpaulin, the shelves that had to be removed, the windows that didn't open during the rainy season. Phuc stood next to her and asked her if she wanted to go to the second floor one last time before closing.

"Have."

The group goes up. No one brought a camera. They only brought notebooks, tools and a box of cakes. The reading room is emptier because the books have been moved. The sunlight on the floor is still the same as the first day, but the dust is less.

Ngoc walked through each shelf, touching the new railing, the chair with scratches, and the rule board. Bao took a pen and wrote the closing date on a temporary piece of paper.

“Don't write on the wall,” Lam reminded.

“I write on paper.”

“I'm proud.”

Phuc checked the fan and recorded the status. He said that after disassembly, all components need to be numbered for reassembly. Ngoc created an archive table. Minh Chau assigns someone to hold the key.

A 10th grade student stood near the door, asking if he could still borrow the book he was reading when he opened it again. Ngoc said he would write down the names and move the book to temporary storage. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Are you sure the book is not lost?”

“We will take stock.”

Phuc added: "If there is a problem, report it immediately. Don't hide it."

I nodded.

In the afternoon, the group moved the last book to the first floor. Narrow stairs make this slow. Bao held two books, saying he was transporting knowledge. Lam held a box and said knowledge did not need comment.

Ngoc and Phuc carry a box of books back to their family. The box was heavy, her hands turned red. Phuc asked if he needed a break. Ngoc said yes, but didn't want to stop in the middle of the stairs.

“Rest is not quitting,” Phuc said.

“I know.”

“You're talking fast.”

Ngoc put the box down. The two sat on the steps, watching the stream of students pass by.

“Are you sad?” Phuc asked.

"Have."

“Because the second floor is closed?”

"Because a familiar place will change. I don't know if after six months it will still be the same as I remember."

“It's okay if it's not the same.”

“Easy for you to say.”

"I don't say it's easy. I say it because if everything stays the same, we don't need to learn anything."

Ngoc looked at him. “You are becoming someone who says memorable things.”

“I will charge a royalty fee.”

They continued to deliver books.

The temporary reading room on the first floor has poorer lighting, but is close to the gate and has no stairs. The group set up an open schedule, placed low shelves, and added lights. Some new students come because they can approach them easily for the first time.

Ngoc realized that closing the second floor accidentally opened up another problem: many people could not get up before. She noted that in the report, not as an excuse, just for better design.

Phuc installed signage on the first floor. He received news that the vocational program invited him to practice for three consecutive days. Ngoc asked if the group could operate it themselves.

“Yes,” Minh Chau said. “But we will miss you.”

Phuc nodded. “I remember too.”

Bao gave him a cake with eggs added. “To eat sugar.”

Phuc held, asked if there was a fee.

“No. But you have to bring it back.”

"Why?"

“I don't want to eat the food of the person who is leaving.”

Phuc smiled, then hugged Bao's shoulder for a second. Bao pretended to be upset but didn't avoid it.

Ngoc looked at that scene and saw that friendship is also a kind of library: people keep things they don't want to lose.

Before the official closing date, the class held a final reading session on the second floor. No competition, no performance. Each person chooses a short passage and reads it to the group. Ms. Hanh read the introduction of the old notebook. Hoang Duy read a passage about a city that changes but still keeps its old roads. Lam reads poetry. Bao read the instructions for folding bread, making everyone laugh.

Phuc read a passage about fixing a car not just to make it run, but to make the driver trust that the brakes will stop when needed. He didn't say which book. Ngoc understands.

Ngoc chose a passage about a little girl in the museum. She reads slowly, does not act. When she finished, she said: "We may not be able to keep every wall up. But we can keep asking people for directions."

No one clapped immediately. Then Bao clapped loudly, breaking the silence. Everyone laughed.

They locked the door. Ms. Hanh kept the key, but gave Ngoc a copy to the council. Phuc keeps the technical copy. Minh Chau keeps the handover book.

“Too many keys,” Bao said.

“That is decentralization,” Lam replied.

“I like this word better when it opens doors.”

Ngoc looked at the "Ask before telling" board. She took it down and put it in the box. In six months they will hang it again, or write a new sentence.

The result was not a perfect victory. It is a promise with a schedule, conditions, and responsibility. Ngoc saw that enough to walk down to the first floor without looking back forever.

During the first week of temporary transfer, Ngoc sometimes went up to the second floor and remembered the door was locked. She stood outside, heard the sounds of workers and tools, then went back down. Phuc told her not to enter the construction area without someone in charge.

“I just looked.”

“Looking from the outside.”

“You become like Ms. Hanh.”

“That's a compliment.”

"Doubt."

Phuc pointed to the warning sign. Ngoc read, then stepped back. She understands loving a place that doesn't allow her to enter all the time. Sometimes the way to keep it is to wait for the right day to be opened.

On the first floor, the group set up a "second floor memory corner" including old diagrams, photos of windows without people and agreed-upon messages. A 10th grader suggested redrawing the ceiling fan. Bao drew it into a bird, Lam changed it into a fan.

“Birds can also spin,” Bao said.

“But it doesn't help people understand history,” Lam replied.

Ngoc put both copies next to each other. She doesn't want to turn the memory corner into a too serious museum. The old place needs to be remembered even with harmless jokes.

At the end of the month, the council updated the repair progress. The elevator has a frame and the connection is adjusted so as not to cover the windows. A line reading "the second floor reading room will keep its old history" made Ngoc happier than she wanted to admit.

Phuc's message: "Don't be happy too soon."

Ngoc: “I'm just happy enough.”

Phuc: “Does your level have a measurement chart?”

Ngoc sent a thumbs up photo, then returned to stacking the books first floor.

Decided to come on a rainy afternoon. The council is not demolishing the second floor, but the block will be reinforced in two months. The reading room had to be temporarily moved to the first floor and one room of the culture house. The second floor will then reopen in a new design, smaller but with windows and safe passageways.

Ngoc read the text three times. There are things that are kept, things that are dropped, and things that depend on next year's budget. She didn't text immediately to show off. She sent the decision to the group, with one line: "Read the conditions before having fun."

Bao responded with a list of twelve things to do. Minh Chau asked who would manage the books at the cultural house. Phuc asked when it would be time to fix the electrical outlet. Ms. Hanh called an emergency meeting, not to celebrate but to assign tasks. Ngoc sees that people have learned to keep joy on one side and responsibility on the other.

On the first day of moving the books, the rain didn't stop. Students lined up from the gate to the first floor. Each person only holds one light box, no jostling. Phuc checked the boxes containing precious books, while Ngoc compared the codes. One storybook is missing a label; They didn't guess which compartment it belonged to but temporarily placed it in the waiting area for verification.

The reading room is temporarily cramped, but Ms. Hanh placed a small table at the door with a sign: "If you remember the second floor, write what you want to take with you." The pieces of paper gradually filled up: the sunlight, the sound of the fan, the chair next to the door, the person who told me to find the book. There is a piece of paper that says "please sit still".

Ngoc planned to take down the board because she was afraid it would make everyone sad. Phuc stopped him. He said missing a place doesn't mean rejecting a new place. It helps people know what needs to be kept when rebuilding. Ngoc left the table as is, then added a box next to it: "What you want to change."

Father sent a text message confirming An Nhien would sponsor the reinforcement but would not interfere with the management team. Ngoc thanked him, then asked if he could announce the support conditions. He replied: "Go ahead and announce it. Be transparent, don't make a small gift."

That night, the second floor was darker than usual. Ngoc stood at the door, listening to the sound of rain on the roof. She did not consider the room about to be a sure promise. She sees it as a job that has a schedule, a budget, and can be audited every week.