Cameron slid his fingers over the dusty shelves filled with old recordings and sheet music. He marveled at the cathedral-like ceilings and low lighting. Album posters hung on the walls. A few new ones had been added in fifteen years, but the music library still had the untouched old-timey, classic feel Walker remembered.
“This is so un-library like,” Cameron said, his head swung back to stare at the design etched in the ceiling. “Like, I’d actually want to hang out here.”
“It used to be the main library in the early 1900s.”
“Back when you were a student?” Cameron just had to throw that one in, but Walker took his sarcasm in stride. He found it endearing.
Cameron ran over to the record section, where rows of old records were pressed together in yellowed jackets. There wasn’t a librarian here to instruct them to walk. “How old do you think these are?”
“What does it matter?”
Cameron thumbed through albums, blowing away dust. “What do you mean?”
“What does it matter how old a record or a library is? It’s more than a number.” Walker’s voice echoed in the hollowed space.
“Did I strike a nerve?”
Apparently. Walker leaned against a column and just watched Cameron and all his flitting energy. He wondered at what point he stopped being excited about things. When did experiences stop being new?
Cameron sidled over to him, and his scent cut through the musty smell permeating this place, which probably explained why nobody visited here much.
“I think it’s cool,” Cameron said. “This place has character.”
Cameron pointed at the molding above Walker’s head. Fine detailing grooved in swishy lines. “The concrete monstrosity known as our regular library doesn’t have that.”
Walker pushed himself off the column. “I didn’t bring you here just to show you crown molding.” He nodded his head in a “follow me” gesture. He led Cameron to a bookcase against the far wall that had a thick layer of dust.
“When I was in school, this was the place where guys would come to hook up.”
“With other guys?”
Walker nodded. Cameron’s eyes pleaded to tell him more. The memories flooded back into his mind. “The music library was always this abandoned.” Walker gestured to the emptiness around them. “Perfect place for guys in the closet, and even openly gay guys to get it on at the dawn of the twentieth-first century, especially by the musical theater shelf.”
“Very appropriate.”
Walker thought he felt his phone buzz. Many times, he felt a phantom buzz in his pocket. He never kept his phone on silent just in case he needed to be reached about Hobie. He saw ten new emails in his work inbox and just as quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket.
“That’s not all.” Walker brought Cameron around to the side of the musical theater bookcase. Dozens of people had carved their initials into the wood.
Cameron’s hands ran over a carving at the bottom dated F.K. + L.B 11/07/63. “It’s amazing that a few weeks after these two fellas hooked up, JFK was assassinated. I don’t know, like I wonder if people realized that they’re a part of history.”
“I think people are just trying to live their lives.”
“Was it…was it bad then?” Cameron asked. “For gays?”
Walker realized that Cameron lived in a world where he could go to gay bars and hang out with his friends in public and not have to worry. Sure, there would always be assholes out there, but more people and institutions also had his back. He didn’t have to live his life in such a coded way.
“It wasn’t like the 1950s or anything. More guys were coming out and staying out when I was at Browerton. There was a small LGBT group, but we still felt like outsiders. It’s not like it is today.”
Cameron nodded with a glint of respect, and something more Walker couldn’t decipher.
“Where’s your carving?” Cameron rested against a brick wall. He looked like an album cover.
Walker squatted to the bottom row. W.R. + D.E. were inside a heart.
“College sweethearts,” Cameron said.
Walker hurtled back in time, to when he and Doug snuck down here. Doug’s hands were down Walker’s pants as soon as they got inside. He took Walker in his mouth while Walker played lookout. It was another world away and a painful reminder of the present.
