J A M E S A N D L E E  9 Being the older brother, I knew it was my responsibility to maintain the family morale. “Oh, come on. Mondays aren’t that bad,” I lied. “It represents the beginning of the week. Just imag- ine all the great opportunities that the next seven days could present us.” “First of all,” said Lee, raising his head off the table, “Monday is not the beginning of the week—that’s Sunday. Second, what opportunities? There are no opportunities. We have been con- nected to the United Tunnels for seventy years, but still only a handful has ever ventured forth to see what the other towns have to offer. There is a whole brave subterranean world out there just waiting to be explored, but instead, we stay here—time after time, day after day, year after year—doing the same thing.” “Yes, yes, but that ‘same thing’ is important,” I argued. “Some- one has to fix all the problems in this town.” Lee stuck a pinky finger into one of his ears and proceeded to dig out some of the dirt. “So, why does that have to be us?” he asked. “Because we are the librarians of course,” I said, stating the obvious. “Everyone knows that it’s the librarians’ job to fix the problems with society.” “And why is that again?” “Because, we have read all the books. That means we have all the facts. People look to us to solve their little tribulations.” “Right,” said Lee as he repositioned his head back on the table, “we have all the facts…” Now would probably be a good time to tell you a little more about us. Lee and I were born and raised in PeopleVille, one of the smallest towns in the U.T.A, or better known as the United Tunnels of America. It’s a nice town, situated 800 meters below what was once California. Well, at least that is what we’ve been told. We do not really know since the last direct survivor of the Great Scare died 247 years ago at the ripe old age of fifty-six. He was just a boy when his family went underground to escape the