To reach these secrets visiting a person that happens to see the world a little differently such as a poet, writer, or those just a bit off and talking with them happens to open their minds to ideas. Think before thinking becomes illegal. Read before they burn or destroy the books again... Imagine before the end...

Humor someone’s Hemingway hideout? Who knows anyway pulling the chain lighted a small room. A table, what looked like a still? The pill of envelopes and a small looking medical gad was what I could see. Being venturous I went through the envelopes. Which had wonderful 20s stamps all addressed to Baby? Trying to figure out why their presence was there I noticed a mail drop between the back of the door.

Well, I guess if someone was to hide a room a library was as good as a place as any. What surprised me most were the lack of dust. Any ways moving around the room, I started to review the books upon the table. The first was a ledger accounting it seemed of a business operation of medicine? No I suppose after seeing a liquor bottle. There in the ledger were small towns that appeared in North Dakota, South Dakota, Montana, Illinois, Minnesota, and other little towns that I recognized from my travels with my mom since the split up of my folks. It seemed these were major illegal operations built across the plains of North Dakota. Sort of like the Kennedy’s moonshine hold in Havre, Montana. Looking at the next book it seemed like a personal diary. Last minutes dated 1929 written about a Mr. Babsy and venture of moon shine. The journal was given by someone's Limburg for a birthday gift to a Major Babsy. Reading the dairy about Mr. Babsy seemed to be in love with someone. He had it bad. Seemed obsessive to appoint that I realized I had never fallen head over heals in love before. It seemed to detail that Mr. Babsy was a local that was planning to take and make himself a rich person.

Humor he even gave some detail on back accounts and politicians a few of them; I had heard about from history class. One name I saw I did not expect was my great grand father. Well, I knew the righteous stories on how he made it in flax in the 40s. Seeing his name there made me wonder a bit but life is a mixture of chance opportunities. Anyway venturing into the boxes one contained several old medicine bottles labels peeling with age and odd color liquor look inside. Another box had a letter on it without an envelope. Opening the letter which was addressed to someone whose name I had heard in the old folk’s home where my great grandfather lived. What a small world we live in. The letter was telling him that if Mr. Babsy might never come back; from reading the content the letter it was sort of a last will and testament from Mr. Babsy. The letter went into how several small communities were being used, and their libraries were being used to store medicine, etc. Opening the box under the letter, there were roughly fifty thousand dollars in ones the year 1920 stamped on them. The box looked half full. Humor what one expected and what one gets are two things. I closed the box. Thinking I needed to talk to my grandfather prior to doing anything. I toke the dairy, 20 dollars in one-dollar bills from the box replacing them with a 20-dollar bill my father gave me on his recent visit to me. My parents of course being separated tried to buy my love at times. I also toke the letters unopened. Pulling on the chain the light chain broke while closing the self backward. Going back into the library, I pushed the shelf back into place. I went to the door. Humor the librarian had locked me in with a note saying she was out for lunch. Well, life happens so I went to the rear to my seat and begin once more the Tale of there and back again. Later in the evening, the librarian awoke me by turning on all the lights, and my mom was calling my name.