Bartle Clunes - Chapter 31
Little Eli's good idea
Previous chapters are listed in the Bartle Clunes archive - Click here . If you are new, please start here - Introduction to Bartle Clunes .
El Dorado County - 1951
On a mid-July day when the foothills' air was unbearably dry and hot, Eizer and Eli were wading in the small creek about a mile from their home, their trousers rolled up to the knee, shoes and socks left side by side on a boulder. The small cottonwoods and willows bending across both sides of the creek cast a fine shade but did not lessen the heat.
“Look here,” said Eizer, pointing out a bush covered with yellow flowers and bees, near the creek edge. “Now this here is a plant that bees like. It's called Monkey Flower. That is the English name, Monkey Flower,” he repeated, “but the real name is Mimulus Lewisii. Can you say that?
“Mimulus Lewisii?”
“Exactly so. It was named after Mr. Meriwether Lewis. Do you know who that is?”
“No sir, I don't,” said Eli, squinting up at the man, shading his eyes with his hand.
“Well, then, when we get home I will tell you the story of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark and the Corps of Discovery. They had quite an adventure those boys, exploring this country. It's a good story.”
Eizer pointed out the flannel bush, with its bright golden five-petaled flowers, the smooth red bark of the manzanita, the sticky coyote brush with its tiny white flowers covered with butterflies.
For his previous lesson in natural history, Eizer had walked Eli to a special place up behind the hill to show him three different kinds of oaks that were near neighbors to each other. They studied and took samples of the bark and the leaf of the Canyon Live Oak, the Blue Oak and the giant Quercus Lobata, the Valley Oak that was Queen of the Foothills. Eizer was a born teacher.
Wading about in the cold creek in the near suffocating heat, Eli said, “Eizer, I have an idea. A good idea.”
“An idea? Well, then, I best sit down and hear about it.” They waded over to a large, flat, nearly submerged rock and sat half in the cold water, half out. Their clothes were soaked. “Okay, now. What is on your mind, son?”
“I was thinking,” said Eli, “we have a lot of books, and we are the only ones who read them. Right?”
“Right.”
“What if we could make a box – some kind of box with a door and put it out by the driveway. And we could put some books in it and make a sign that says, 'Take a Book'.
“You want to give away our books?”
“No, not exactly. My idea is ... neighbors who want to read our books could take one, and could bring it back to the box later. Or they could bring back a different book. Maybe the sign could say ... “Bring a book. Take a book.”
“So … a kind of street-side miniature library — only without a library card or a librarian?”
“Yes sir! What do you think?”
“Well, I don't know. What if somebody steals those books?”
“Well, maybe the would ... but maybe not. And if we lose too many books, we could quit. Could we try it? See what happens? Could we maybe?”
“Yes, maybe we could. A book trading post. We will think it through this evening and make a plan,” Eizer said, appreciating the young boy's cleverness. They then turned their heads and looked up at the same time, both having heard footsteps approaching from up the bank. It was Bartle Clunes coming through the brush in his big knee boots, Maggie by his side.
“Good morning, gentlemen!” he said with a smile. “I was standing in the kitchen window way up there with my wife and saw you two sitting down here in the water. Thought I would invite you up for some lemonade. And I think maybe Louvina has a peach custard.”
“Why, thank you, Bartle. Eli, what do you think?” Maggie lapped some water from the creek and lay his drooly, wet snout between Eizers's knee.
“Let's go,” answered Eli jumping up and going to get their shoes and socks.
It was so hot that their pants had nearly dried by the time they arrived at the Clunes' house. Sitting on the porch with lemonade and custard, Eizer asked Eli to tell their friends about his book trading idea. “This boy has some funny notions!” he said, patting him on the back. Eli finished the last bite of custard and explained the plan.
“Eli,” said Louvina, swinging Pearly side to side in her arms, “that sounds like a fine experiment. It'll be very interesting to see what Riles Crossing neighbors do. You might go on over to the General Store and put a notice up on the bulletin board to let people know. I think I have a couple of books to donate, too, to help start you off.”
Bartle said, “ You know, I think I may have an old kitchen cabinet out in the shed that I never found use for. Let's go out there and see if it might work as your book box.”
Later that week, Eizer and Eli had all the spiderwebs and dirt cleaned from the old cabinet. They'd scraped it and given it a couple of coats of left-over blue enamel, and the Griggs and Flounder Book Exchange was launched.
They secured it out by the mail box and put seven good old books inside and waited. Two days passed. Three. Eli checked the box several times a day just to see. Suddenly, on Saturday afternoon, there were only five books, two were missing. On Monday there were three books. Eli was over the moon. But, on Wednesday there were nine books. Eizer found one in the box that he wanted to read and brought it into the house.
A week later there were twelve books inside the cabinet, and none were of the original seven. At least one person dropped by every day, according to Eli. By mid-August, there was regular patronage at the road-side book exchange, and the cabinet was full. If anyone was stealing books, it was not apparent. Eizer brought a few into the house in a cardboard box. When there were two boxes of books in the living room, Filomena put her foot down.
The Eizer and Eli book exchange project outgrew the little blue cabinet rather quickly. By September it had gotten a little out of hand. Eizer's original seven books had multiplied exponentially. They had more than twenty books now. Eizer had suggested to Eli that it might be nice to give some of the books to the library in Placerville. Eli said, “Eizer, I think we just need a bigger box, that’s all.”
Eizer heard the call. The bigger “box” was now in the works, and was projected to open sometime before Christmas, a gift to the small rural community of Riles Crossing.
By October first, the three-man construction crew had been working at Riles’ General Store and Hardware for about three weeks. They had a foundation laid, the rough framing done, the roof up. Today they were wiring and tomorrow the walls and windows would begin to go in. The smell of sawdust, damp concrete and unmitigated sweat filled the air. A blue plastic portable radio sitting on a stump belted out country music all day long as accompaniment to the labor. “You'll never know dearrrrrr, how much I love yoooooou. Please don't take my sunshine awaaaaay.”
Lonnie Riles stood out in front of his store appreciating the progress on the project. It was really starting to look like something. Eizer and Lonnie had made an agreement to add a room onto the side of the Riles' old store to provide a home for the “Griggs and Flounder Free Book Exchange.” Lonnie donated the space, Ayla designed and drew up the plans, Bartle contracted the workers. Eizer paid for it all, saying, “The cost of a book exchange is not nearly so high as the cost of ignorance.” He wanted to do something, and this felt like a legacy to him. Already there were five boxes of books stacked in Lonnie's store room, ready to be organized as soon as the shelves were built. The books were chiefly donations from Eizer’s own bookcases, but also from local families of Riles Crossing, which as it turned out, was a community of clandestine readers.
Those book boxes are quite popular. I have seen them in several states during my vacations. There is one in the neighborhood down the road from us also.
Lovely! I want to tell you that I built a Little Free Library. No end of fun. During the pandemic, when schools were closed, someone dropped off a stack of board games, which added another level of fun. Thank you for the story.