Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library (13 page)

BOOK: Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library
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And then she stalled.

She’d run out of gas.

A buzzer sounded.

“I’m sorry, Bridgette,” said Dr. Zinchenko. “But, as we advised you, the Extreme Challenges are extremely difficult. You will be going home with lovely parting gifts. Kindly hand your library card to Clarence and thank you for playing Escape from Mr. Lemoncello’s Library.”

“That settles it,” muttered Kyle. “I am
never, ever
asking for one of those Extreme Challenge dealios.”

“Me neither,” said Akimi.

“I might,” said Sierra. “Maybe.”

And then she showed Kyle and Akimi the rumpled sheet of paper where she had written down
five
book titles for all ten authors.

Akimi grabbed the door handle to the Young Adult Room. “It’s locked.”

“Here,” said Sierra. “Use my library card.”

“Huh,” said Akimi. “Your books on the back are different, too.”

“I think they all are. I got
The Egypt Game
and
The Westing Game
.”

“Two books about games?” said Kyle. “Sweet.”

Akimi slipped Sierra’s card into a reader slot above the doorknob. The door clicked. Kyle pushed it open.

The walls of the Young Adult Room were painted purple and yellow. There were swirly zebra-print rugs on the floor and a lumpy cluster of beanbag chairs. A couple of sofas were designed to look like Scrabble trays, with letter-square pillows.

Akimi nudged Kyle in the ribs. “Check it out.”

In the far corner stood a carnival ticket booth with a mechanical dummy seated inside. A “Fun & Games” banner hung off the booth’s striped roof. The dummy inside the glass booth?

He looked like Mr. Lemoncello.

He wasn’t wearing a turban, but the Mr. Lemoncello mannequin reminded Kyle of the Zoltar Speaks fortuneteller booths he’d seen in video game arcades.

“That’s not really him, is it?” said Akimi, who was right behind Kyle.

“No. It’s a mechanical doll.”

The frozen automaton was dressed in a black top hat and a bright red ringmaster jacket. Since the booth had the “Fun & Games” banner, Kyle figured you might have to talk to the dummy to get a game.

“Um, hello,” he said. “We’d like to play a board game.”

Bells rang, whistles whistled, and chaser lights blinked. The mechanical Mr. Lemoncello jostled to life.

“If you want a game, just say its name.” The life-size puppet’s blocky jaw flapped open and shut—almost in sync with the words.

“Do you have Mr. Lemoncello’s Bewilderingly Baffling Bibliomania?”

“Did Joey Pigza lose control? Was Ella enchanted?”

“Huh?”

“Just say yes,” suggested Sierra.

“Yes,” said Kyle.

“Well, great Gilly Hopkins,” said the Lemoncello dummy, “here you go!”

Kyle heard some mechanical noises and some whirring. Then, with a clunk, a wide slot popped open in the front of the booth and a game box slid out.

“Enjoy!” said the dummy. “And remember, it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game. So be sure to read the instructions—so you’ll know how to
play the game
.”

Kyle took the box to a table.

“Okay,” he said, raising the lid, “let’s set it up and—”

There was a beep and the door opened.…

“Where is he?”

Andrew Peckleman barged into the room waving his antique magazine—something called
Popular Science Monthly
.

“Who’re you looking for?” said Kyle.

“Mr. Lemoncello. I heard him. Is he in here?”

Kyle pointed toward the frozen Lemoncello doll sitting in the carnie booth. “It’s a dummy.”

Peckleman whipped his head around from side to side. “Is there a camera in here?”

“Right over the door.”

Peckleman spun around to face it. Kyle, Akimi, and Sierra formed a human shield to hide their Bibliomania box.

“I want to use a second lifeline!” Peckleman shouted at the camera. “I want to talk to an expert!”

“Very well,” said a calm voice Kyle immediately recognized as belonging to Dr. Zinchenko. “With whom do you wish to speak?”

“The guy who wrote this stupid magazine article about cracking open bank vaults in the 1930s!”

“I’m afraid we cannot arrange that for you, Andrew.”

“Why not? The guy’s a moron. He didn’t tell me anything about how to open the front door, which is what my Google search said this magazine would do!”

“We told you the way out isn’t the way in.”

“That was just a red herring! A trick, to throw us off course.”

“No, Andrew. It was not. What is the title of the article?”

“ ‘Newest Bank Vaults Defy the Cracksman.’ ”

“Ah. Well, that should have been a hint. Apparently, the reporter concluded that thieves could
not
break open the vault doors. When doing Internet research, it is important to—”

“Let me talk to the stupid idiot!”

“I am sorry. That magazine was published in 1936. The reporter is dead.”

“Well, then, I want to talk to Mr. Lemoncello!”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to talk to Mr. Lemoncello!”

“This is highly irregular.…”

“And so’s this game. You people have it rigged so
Miguel Fernandez will win. I know you do! That’s why Mr. Lemoncello is afraid to talk to me.”

Kyle heard the carnival booth dummy clatter back to life.

“Hello, Andrew. How may I help you?”

This Lemoncello didn’t sound prerecorded. Apparently, the real deal was using the dummy to do his talking.

“Your library stinks!” shouted Peckleman.

“Oh, dear. Have you boys been playing that castle sewer game again?”

“No! But this stupid article should’ve given me the stupid answer but the stupid writer didn’t write what he should’ve written.”

“I see. And can you rephrase that in the form of a question?”

“How many can I ask you?”

“Just one. And then we’re done.”

“Okay. You’re the expert on this stupid new library game. So where’s your favorite contestant? Where’s Miguel?”

“Is that your final question?”

“Yes!”

“Assuming our video monitors are correct, Mr. Fernandez is on the other side of the third floor, doing research in the Art and Artifacts Room.”

“Thanks!”

Andrew bolted out the door.

The Lemoncello puppet bucked and drooped into its “off” mode.

Kyle sprang up from the table. “Come on,” he said to Akimi and Sierra.

Akimi sighed. “
Now
where are we going?”

“To make sure Peckleman doesn’t do something stupid that gets Miguel kicked out of the game.”

“And why would we do that?”

“Because Miguel’s our friend.”

Akimi glanced at her floor plan. “The Art and Artifacts Room is on the other side of the circle.”

“Sierra—stay here and guard the game box. Come on, Akimi.”

Kyle and Akimi looped around the third-floor balcony to the other side. Kyle glanced at his watch. It was almost three p.m. They really needed to start focusing on The Game and not all this other monkey junk.

As they neared the Art & Artifacts Room, there was a shout, and the door flew open. Andrew Peckleman came running out.

Behind him were a woman with the head and tail of a lioness, and a Pharaoh in a cobra headpiece.

The Pharaoh stopped. “May onions grow in your ear-wax!” And a series of holographic hieroglyphics danced across the air.

Andrew Peckleman raced to a staircase, grabbed both handrails, and hurried down to the second floor. The Egyptians vanished.

Kyle and Akimi entered the Art & Artifacts Room and found Miguel seated at a desk with what looked like blueprints.

“You okay?” asked Kyle.

“Yeah, man. I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Those guys chasing Andrew. Where’d they come from?”

“Holograms from the giant Lego Sphinx and Pyramid exhibit.”

“So why’d they turn on Andrew?” asked Akimi.

“I don’t know. One minute he’s yelling at me. The next, the Pharaoh and Sekhmet are yelling at him.”

“Sek-who?” said Kyle.

“Sekhmet,” said Akimi. “The Egyptian lion goddess and warrior. Haven’t you read
The Red Pyramid
by Rick Riordan?”

“It’s on my list,” said Kyle. Or it would be. He definitely needed to start a reading list soon so he could catch up with everybody else.

“I bet the security guards in the control room fired up the Egyptian holograms when they saw Andrew going berserk in here,” said Akimi.

“Good,” said Miguel. “A library is supposed to be a place for peaceful contemplation.”

That was when Sierra Russell rushed into the room.

“You guys! Right after you left! The Mr. Lemoncello dummy spit out a bonus card!”

“Very clever,” said Charles, pulling another silhouette card out of a book.

This cover had been easy to find. It was the third book on the top shelf of the Staff Picks display. The image on the front was a bright yellow yield sign. The title?
Universal Road Signs
by “renowned trafficologist” Abigail Rose Painter. Charles had found the matching book in the 300s room on the second floor. The 300s were all about social sciences, including things like commerce, communications, and—ta-da!—transportation.

The image also fit nicely with the pictogram he had found in the 700s room in a book called
The Umpire Strikes Back
. That baseball book was the first cover on the
second
shelf in the display case and had given Charles a card with the classic pose of an umpire calling an out.

Reading the images from left to right, then down—just like you’d read a book—Charles knew he was on the right track. The traffic sign book gave him “walk” and the umpire book gave him “out.”

Put the two picture words together and he had “walk out.”

Clearly, if he could find all twelve silhouettes, the Staff Picks display would tell him how to “walk out” of the library (although he had absolutely no idea what the first image he had found, the quarterback tossing a pass, had to do with escaping the library—not yet, anyway).

“Three down, nine to go,” said Charles, winking up at the closest security camera. “And, Mr. Lemoncello, if you’re watching, may I just say that you are an extremely brilliant man?”

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