McMaster University - Present Day
Richard Hamill pulled the text from the display shelf, closing and locking the glass case. He turned the book over in his gloved hand, caressing the withered leather cover.
"I'm amazed at how well this has stood the test of time," he said to the young blond man beside him. "Look at how solid and sturdy the spine and binding still are."
"It seems the perfect candidate for the Kirtas scanner," the young man, Matthew Phillips, said, reaching for the book.
Richard held the text away from his reach. "Your gloves," he insisted.
While he watched Matthew put them on, Richard said, "This particular book was owned by none other than the world renowned Shakespearean scholar, Dr. Marshall P. Emerson.
"It’s an 1861 reprint of the first folio edition of Shakespeare's plays and could easily fetch enough money to completely re-equip the William Ready Division of Archives and Research Collection here at McMaster."
"Wow. Really?"
"Absolutely. But I'd sooner die than see this book lost or sold, which is why I'm delighted we have the ability to scan and create a digital replication of it from which print on demand versions can be made."
"It allows others the ability to appreciate the text without having to handle the original," Matthew added.
"Exactly." Richard was always surprised at how the reverence for the printed word remained intact in someone so young during such technologically advanced times. “These archives aren't about the monetary value of the texts, but more about the cultural significance,” the older man added.
And this one held plenty.
"On top of its standing as the first reliable printing of twenty of Shakespeare's plays in 1623, this book is held in regard from its final ownership by McMaster's own Dr. Emerson," Richard continued.
"Professor Prospero," Matthew grinned, unable to hold back and wanting to display his knowledge. "The leading expert on The Tempest for over thirty years, and controversial in his proclamation that it was an example of one of Shakespeare's finest tragedies, despite the more popular supposition of the play being a comedy."
"Indeed he was," Richard said, bemused at how Matthew sounded as though he were reciting the facts straight from Wikipedia.
"Did you ever meet him?" the young man asked.
"No. I joined the university six years after he died."
"So you never witnessed if the rumors were true."
"The rumors?" Richard said, fighting the shiver crawling up his spine.
"That he carried this book with him no matter where he went."
Richard relaxed. "Oh, that. Yes. Yes, apparently it's true. He was said to be a difficult man, not loved by his colleagues; yet when he passed on, his entire collection of books, including the much-adored text he always carried around campus was bequeathed to the library archives."
"And," Matthew said, his eyes brimming with curiosity, "what about the other rumors?"
Richard felt his shoulders tense again. "What other rumors?"
"The legend of Prospero's Ghost."
He averted his eyes from the young man. "Hogwash."
"Really? I've heard that the ghost of Dr. Emerson has been seen wandering the library halls endlessly searching for his lost book. You mean you've never seen him?"
"No," Richard said, his eyes not returning to his assistant. "No. Never. Those are just silly stories."
Aksara