*****

  I went to the library in order to settle the last details of my plan. I entered the building; went to the second floor; greeted Ronald, not forgetting to wink to him; went into Room 328 – the library’s Rare Books Reading Room; said “Hi” to Marley; sat down at the table next to the lamp that I removed the bulb from the previous day. Then I took a slightly more “modernized” bulb from my pocket, installed it, and pushed the “on” button. The lights went out in the room instantly, and everyone was sitting in darkness. My plan worked out perfectly, but I was the only one happy about it. The rumble of visitors’ discontent spread throughout the room. A beam of light from the librarian’s desk shot across the room, causing fancifully shadows to appear on the walls.

  “Everyone, please stay calm! The Reading Room will be temporarily shut down for technical reasons. I ask everyone to return the literature you have taken out to me. I will shine your way to the exit with the flashlight,” the woman sternly ordered.

  The Reading Room visitors walked towards Marley with their things, since continuing to read in the dark was pointless. I waited until everyone had left.

  A few minutes later, the silhouettes of two men appeared in the room. It seemed that the fist to come was the library Director, who was holding a flashlight. His steps were very frequent and quick. The second man was a security officer for the division – my friend Ronald. He followed the first man for several feet.

  “Mrs Walker, what happened here?” The director asked, approaching Marley.

  “The electricity shut off, so I decided to close the Reading Room!”

  “Just give us a few minutes. We need to check everything out!” The man explained, examining the room, illuminated it with a beam of blinding light. Then he went back out of the room, addressing Ronald, “Mr Philips, help Mrs Johnson collect all the books. After all, someone could use such darkness to their advantage!”

  I assumed that the director would try to return the switch of the safety lock in the fuse box to initial position to restore the power supply in the room. And my assumption proved true a few minutes later, when the lights switched back on for a second, but then instantly turned off again – the bulb was doing its job.

  A minute later the Director returned to the room.

  “I’ve called an electrician, but he won’t be able to come until tomorrow. So, you’ve made the right decision for today – to close the Reading Room,” he acknowledged, addressing Marley, and exited, having left his flashlight with the security officer.

  I waited for ten minutes, while all the visitors returned their books and until nobody remained except me, the librarian and Ronald. Then I came up to Marley.

  “And you said that it was impossible!” I exclaimed.

  “What? You’re the one behind all of this?” Ronald was surprised, shining his light on me.

  “Believe it or not …” I smiled.

  “What now?” the librarian inquired.

  “Now I will go get my girlfriend and we will have a date here. And you’re going to help me make it happen!” I commanded demonstratively. “You, Ronald, take up position in front of that door; no one can come in and disturb us!”

  “Yes, sir!” He smiled.

  “And you, Marley, get the music ready!” I commanded.

  “Music?” She was shocked. “I thought you’d ask me to bring the romance novel you were reading yesterday!”

  “I’ll go get it myself. I remember which rack you took it from!” I responded confidently. “So you just need to provide background music!”

  “But the only permitted way of listening to music here is through ear-phones!” Marley instinctively attempted to adhere to the library’s rules.

  “Today is an exception!” I said.

  “But there is no power supply in the room!” The librarian continued to look for ways to thwart my plan.

  “Right. But what I want you to do doesn’t require electricity. Take a vinyl record and put it on the gramophone, and you can power it by winding its motor handle.” I knew that this manuscript division, which also served as a reading room, held a giant collection of records and the old, vintage Columbia Grafonola record player.

  “Simon! You’re driving me crazy!” Marley sighed in frustration. “Well, what record do you want to hear?”

  “The song ‘Your Love is King’, from Sade’s album ‘Diamond Life’,” I responded, and then headed for the exit to meet Berry. “And hurry up, we’ll be here soon!”

  Having left the building, I began to wait near the library steps. At this moment, Alberta was running slightly late. I wouldn’t have noticed, except I was worried that her parents would somehow ruin the whole thing. Bearing in mind that she liked very much to share information about her personal life on social networking websites, they could have found out that July 12th was the day when their daughter and I began to date. If they found this out, they would surely crack down on her plans.

  But my worries vanished when I finally saw Alberta, hopping out of a taxi parked nearby. She headed right over to me. Berry looked fantastic. Instead of walking towards her, and thus closing the distance between us, I remained still, admiring her beauty for a few more seconds. She was wearing a white short top, which just covered her belly-button, a magnificent pink mini-skirt and high heels.

  When she was only a few feet from me, I finally made a step towards her and placed my hands on her hips, embracing her.

  “Hello, babe,” I pressed her body as close as possible to me and lowered my palms just enough to lift her up in the air and twirl.

  “Simon, stop!” Alberta reproached me with joyful indignation.

  But I stopped only when I realized that, as I was using her bottom as a support, I unknowingly lifted her skirt up, allowing the surrounding people to see more than they had bargained for. Having stopped the twirling, I put her on the ground, moved my hands to her waist and kissed her on the cheek. Then, we turned towards the Schwartzman Library. Clutching Berry with my left hand, I began leading her inside.

  Alberta glanced forward and, having noticed a long set of steps before us, asked, “Are we going to the library?”

  “You are a clever girl!” I smiled in response.

  “And you are a very unpredictable boy! Berry responded a bit perplexed. “What we are going to do there? I thought we were just supposed to meet here and then go somewhere else… I mean … to some other place.”

  “I am pretty confident that you won’t be disappointed!”

  We climbed the steps, passed through the portico, which comprised three frontal and two internal side arches forming a simple labyrinth. Then we entered the building. I held her hand, while we were walking the route familiar to me, but unknown to her. I wanted to share with her all the emotions that the inexpressible atmosphere of the old place stirred up in me. And I’m not talking about the gorgeous interiors, photos of which you can find on the Internet. I meant the building’s inimitable character. The Schwarzman building itself can be definitely considered among the most valuable treasures of the NYPL heritage.

  “I must confess, I’m a little embarrassed. I’ve never been here before,” Berry whispered.

  Soon we stood before the entrance to Room 328, which Ronald was guarding. He greeted us with smile and swung open the door, extending me his flashlight.

  “Good morning, young lady!” He addressed Berry.

  “Hello!” she replied.

  “Thank you, Ronald,” I said, taking the flashlight.

  “Simon, why is it so dark in this room?” Alberta asked, having seen from behind the door that it was pitch black inside.

  “Don’t be afraid!” I calmed her down and led her inside, lighting the way with the flashlight.

  As soon as Ronald closed the door behind us, Marley started the music. Alberta shuddered slightly, as she obviously hadn’t expected that there was somebody else out there in the dark.

  “Thanks, Marley!” I revealed her with the beam of light, showing Berry that eve
rything was under control.

  The librarian showed “OK.”

  The sounds of romantic music played throughout the room. Berry finally calmed down and began to relax.

  “Do you like it?” I asked her.

  “It’s wonderful!”

  After making sure that everything was working properly, Marley left us to ourselves, which was evidenced by the soft clap of the door shutting.

  I illuminated the way, leading Berry through the room up to the second level. Finding ourselves in the lofted area, I brought her to the exact rack, from which Marley took the book yesterday.

  “Follow my hands,” I instructed, passed her the flashlight.

  She began directing the beam of light according to my movements.

  “Here it is!” I exclaimed, having found the book I was looking for. I turned around towards the handrail, on which one of the wooden, suspended little “tables” was hung. Berry also turned, illuminating the book and my hands.

  “Simon, what is this book for?” Alberta wondered, trying to make out the ancient leather cover and the compressed, faded sheets.

  “It’s ‘Romeo and Juliette’ by Shakespeare, the oldest publication of this play and one of the oldest books in the whole New York Public Library – it was published at the end of sixteen century. It’s unique,” I answered, having put it on the suspended table, hanging over the opening above the lower level.

  “Will you read for me?”

  “No, I want to show you something” I said, opening the first page in the middle, where the book title was written and just slightly above the author’s name. The bottom part of the page was empty.

  “Switch off the light!” I asked, and Berry immediately obliged. We plunged again into darkness. I took a lighter from my jeans pocket, lit it, and brought it near the bottom of page, so close that the flame almost touched the paper.

  “Simon, what are you doing!?” Alberta reacted, her voice expressing notes of amazement and anger simultaneously.

  But I remained persistent, paying no attention to her protest, continuing doing what I had started. A moment later a radiant smile appeared across her face. On the yellowed page, which had begun to be affected by the heat of the fire, a picture appeared – a red heart, containing an inscription inside:

  “Alberta and Simon – together forever”

  She whispered these words.

  “The heart is the symbol of love … people trace that symbol on trees, draw it on asphalt, type it in messages as “
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