A TV School (The Rookary)

This story starts here.

Sharp could see that he was headed to someplace special. Young Frankie could barely contain himself.
"Children in Frankie's pod are not allowed on the third floor of the library, thanks to nervous Nellies and cantankerous censors, but Phil's not here and you ought to see this."
"You lead the way, Professor Spurgeon."
Fred led them to the Southern tower and unlocked the door. Sharp stepped through the door and nearly stepped back in surprise. He was standing on a wide balcony that was continous around the room except for periodic piercings for what appeared to be fire poles. Floor to ceiling shelves were built into the walls as were study desks placed beneath large windows. The edge of the balcony was protected by a wrought iron guard rail decorated with fantastical flowers and birds. Sharp stepped forward and looked down three stories.
"We call it the Rookary, for obvious reasons. I've always thought it spectacular."
"Absolutely, but..."
"Isn't it a hazard? I had hoped for better things from you. Students aren't allowed on this level until they are in their final pod, and sometimes not even then. Originally, this was due to the very many rare books and the more mature content of the books on this level, but little boys who once sailed down the long pole grew up to be lawyers and now deny their children the priveledge due to 'liability.'"
"The long pole?" Sharp asked.
"Oh,here, they took the pole out, but the gate is still here--welded shut, mind you, but still here. There was a fireman's pole that went the entire distance. It was a legend with the students that you couldn't graduate untl you had slid down the whole thing. They took it out in '82. Now the poles only go a story at a time. Speaking of, hop to it, Master Stein, your mother will be waiting."
"Yes, sir!" Frankie began his descent, happily scrabbling from pole to pole. When he reached the first floor he crashed out of the door and into the hallway.
Sharp smiled.
The rest of the tour was just as intriguing. Fred had an encycolpedic knowledge of the school history, and was delighted to have someone to share it all with.
As the two men finally returned to the first floor they found themselves in the midst of a small gathering of mothers and children. They had obviously let themselves in and then become aware they were being rude. A stack of papers was growing on a table in the entrance hall.
"May I help you, ladies?" Fred asked.
A young mother blushed. "The children were so excited by the advertisement and the web site that we came to hand deliver our applications."
"Advertisement? Web site?" Now it was Fred's turn to be confused.
Sharp stepped in. "I'll take care of these. There will be a secretary to collect applications here on Monday, but for now you may leave these here with me. You are also welcome to submit applications online."
"Could we tour the school? Randall was riding Manely, and Brooke just kissed old Beakley on the nose." The woman smiled encouragingly.
"I'm sorry, maam, but the school is closed for today." Sharp ushered all the mothers and children out into the school yard.
Fred thumbed through the stack of applications. The pile represented twenty children. He smiled as he looked at their photos. Phil was a genius.

This story continues here.