I
The Transparent Scores could only be read when a passing cloud outside the Library’s window cast its shadow into the Sound Maps Room.

Otherwise the Scores were virtually invisible.

Most visitors only gave them a perfunctory glance before heading to the Sound Pencil’s glass case and the Hearing Stations.

II
One morning, however, they absorbed the total attention of the Blind Child, who stood for the rest of the day silent and motionless between the two hanging scores.

After this the Blind Child appeared regularly to spend the day in the Sound Maps Room.

The librarians became accustomed to his presence there, but only the Mute Singer cared for him—giving him food daily, seeing to it that he bathed and had somewhere safe to sleep at nights.

III
It came as a surprise to the Library visitors to realize that, as time progressed, the Blind Child’s body was becoming increasingly transparent, until one day—a librarian was passing by at the time and saw this happen—the Blind Child disappeared, literally into the thin air between the Transparent Scores.

All, except the Mute Singer, were deeply troubled by this.

After the Blind Child’s disappearance, visitors started to notice that the two Transparent Scores were slowly becoming translucent.

Over time, indeed, it was found that the scores could be read with ease in any light.

More and more people now paused before them, and the more adventurous began to sing in response to the score’s constantly shifting notations.

Each moment the song was different.

IV
Reports began to trickle into the Library that echoes of these various songs had been heard in unexpected places.

By the Lake of the Heart.

Above the bed in which Penelope and Odysseus slept.

At the deathbed of a woman.

In the Village of Handmaps.

In the Sandstorm Desert.

In the City of Maps.

In the Great Library of Alexandria.

In a room in Berlin.

In the Land of the Inbetween.

And, once, astronomers discovered the songs on Europa, one of the moons spinning around the planet Jupiter.

V
When the Mute Singer (she was still usually silent) heard about these reports, she opened (as she had been given permission to do, whenever she wanted) the glass case in which the Sound Pencil rested.

Pointing it at her throat, her eyes closed, she began to a sing a single note,
strangely pitched.

On and off she sang this note.

VI
That evening the Library of Maps closed as usual and the lights were turned off, but the Mute Singer was allowed to stay.

Alone, and in the darkness, she continued to sing “The Song for the Blind Child.”

Finally, exhausted and shivering, she wrapped herself in the two Scores, and rested on the floor for a short time.

VII
When she woke up, she yawned, stretched, shrugged off the scores, shook herself, and—opening her eyes—stood up just as the Blind Child walked into the room.

by Moira Roth
Written 8/31/01