Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library (4 page)

“I’m so glad you have lunchroom duty today, Mrs. Cameron,” Kyle heard Chiltington say. “If you don’t mind, I have a few questions about how conventions within genres—such as poetry, drama, or essays—can affect meaning.”

“Well, Charles, I’d be happy to discuss that with you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cameron. And, may I say, that sweater certainly complements your eye color.”

“What a suck-up,” mumbled Akimi. “Chiltington’s trying to use his weaselly charm to make sure Mrs. C sends his essay up the line to Mr. Lemoncello.”

“Don’t worry,” said Kyle. “Mrs. Cameron isn’t the final judge. Mr. Lemoncello is. And since he’s a genius, he will definitely pick the essays you guys all wrote.”

“Undoubtedly,” said Peckleman.

“Thanks, Kyle,” said Miguel.

“I just wish you could win with us,” said Akimi.

“Well, maybe I can. Like you said, this is just a Move Back Three Spaces card. A Take a Walk on the Boardwalk when someone else owns it. It’s a chute in Chutes and Ladders. A detour to the Molasses Swamp in Candy Land!”

“Yo, Kyle,” said Miguel. “Exactly how many board games have you played?”

“Enough to know that you don’t ever quit until
somebody else actually wins.” He picked up his lunch and headed for the dirty-tray window.

Akimi called after him. “Where are you going?”

“I have the rest of lunch and all of study hall to work on a new essay.”

“But Mrs. Cameron won’t take it.”

“Maybe. But I’ve got to roll the dice one more time. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“I hope so,” said Akimi.

“Me too! See you guys on the bus!”

Working on his library essay like he’d never worked on any essay in his whole essay-writing life, Kyle crafted a killer thesis sentence that compared libraries to his favorite games.

“Using a library can make learning about anything (and everything) fun,” he wrote. “When you’re in a library, researching a topic, you’re on a scavenger hunt, looking for clues and prizes in books instead of your attic or backyard.”

He put in points and sub-points.

He wrapped everything up with a tidy conclusion.

He even checked his spelling (twice).

But Akimi had been right.

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” Mrs. Cameron said when he handed her his new paper at the end of the day. “This is very good and I am impressed by your extra effort. However, the
deadline was this morning. Rules are rules. The same as they are in all the board games you mentioned in your essay.”

She’d basically handed Kyle a Go Back Five Hundred Spaces card.

But Kyle refused to give up.

He remembered how his mother had written to Mr. Lemoncello’s Imagination Factory when he and his brothers needed a fresh set of clue cards for the Indoor-Outdoor Scavenger Hunt.

Maybe he could send his essay directly to Mr. Lemoncello via email.

Maybe, if the game maker wasn’t judging the essays until later that night, Kyle still had a shot. A long shot, but, hey, sometimes the long ones were the only shots you got.

The second he hit home he sat down at his mother’s kitchen computer. He attached his essay file to a “high priority” email addressed to Mr. Lemoncello at the Imagination Factory.

“What are you doing, Kyle?” his mom asked when she came into the room and found him typing on her computer.

“Some extra-credit homework.”

“Extra credit? School’s out at the end of the week.”

“So?”

“You’re not playing my Diner Dash game, are you?”

“No, Mom. It’s an essay. About Mr. Lemoncello’s amazing new library downtown.”

“Oh. Sounds interesting. I heard on the radio that there’s going to be a gala grand opening reception this Friday night at the Parker House Hotel, right across the street from the old bank building. I mean, the
new
library.”

Kyle typed in a P.S. to his email: “I hope at the party on Friday you have balloons.”

He hit send.

“Who did you send your essay to?” his mother asked. “Your teacher?”

“No. Mr. Lemoncello himself. It took some digging, but I found his email address on his game company’s website.”

“Really? I’m impressed.” His mom rubbed his hair. “You know, this morning, I said to your dad: ‘Kyle can be just as smart as Curtis and just as focused as Mike—
when
he puts his mind to it.’ ”

Kyle smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

But his smile quickly disappeared when a
BONG!
alerted him to an incoming email.

From Mr. Lemoncello.

It was an auto-response form letter.

Heading back to school on Tuesday, Kyle knew he had to put on a brave face.

He smiled as he walked with his class toward the auditorium for a special early-morning assembly. The one where Mr. Luigi L. Lemoncello himself would announce the winners of the Library Lock-In Essay Contest.

“I hope he picked yours,” Kyle whispered to Akimi.

“Thanks. I do, too. But the lock-in won’t be as much fun without you.”

“Well, when it’s over, and the library is officially open, you can take me on a tour.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do!
If I
win.”

“If you don’t, I’m sending a flaming squirrel after Mrs. Cameron.”

For this assembly, the seventh graders, most of whom were twelve years old, were told to sit in the front rows,
close to the stage. That made Kyle feel a little better. At least he’d get a chance to see Mr. Lemoncello up close and personal.

But his hero wasn’t even onstage.

Just the principal; the school librarian, Mrs. Yunghans; and a redheaded woman in high-heeled shoes who Kyle didn’t recognize. She sat up straight, like someone had slipped a yardstick down the back of her bright red business suit. Her glasses were bright red, too.

“That’s Dr. Yanina Zinchenko!” gushed Miguel Fernandez, who was sitting on Kyle’s right.

“Who’s she?” asked Akimi, seated to Kyle’s left.

“Just the most famous librarian in the whole wide world!”

“All right, boys and girls,” said the principal at the podium. “Settle down. Quiet, please. It is my great honor to introduce the head librarian for the new Alexandriaville public library, Dr. Yanina Zinchenko.”

Everybody clapped. The tall lady in the red outfit strode to the microphone.

“Good morning.”

Her voice was breathy with just a hint of a Russian accent.

“Twelve years ago, this town lost its one and only public library when it was torn down to make room for an elevated parking garage. Back then, many said the Internet had rendered the ‘old-fashioned’ library obsolete, that a new parking garage would attract shoppers to the
boutiques and dress shops near the old bank building. But the library’s demolition also meant that those of you who are now twelve years old have lived your entire lives
without
a public library.”

She looked down at the front rows.

“This is why, to kick off our summer reading program, twelve twelve-year-olds will be selected to be the very first to explore the wonders awaiting inside Mr. Lemoncello’s extraordinary new library. You will, of course, need your parents’ permission. We have slips for you to take home. You will also need a sleeping bag, a toothbrush, and, if you please, a change of clothes.”

She smiled mysteriously.

“You might consider packing
two
pairs of underwear.”

Oh-kay
, thought Kyle.
That’s bizarre
. Did the librarian really think seventh graders weren’t toilet trained?

“There will be movies, food, fun, games, and prizes. Also, each of our twelve winners will receive a five-hundred-dollar gift card good toward the purchase of Lemoncello games and gizmos.”

Oh, man
. Five hundred bucks’ worth of free games and gear? Kyle sank a little lower in his seat. The next time someone gave him an extra-credit essay assignment, he’d turn it in
early
!

“And now, here to announce our winners, the man behind the new library, the master gamester himself—Mr. Luigi Lemoncello!”

Dr. Zinchenko gestured to her left.

The whole auditorium swung their heads.

People were clapping and whistling and cheering.

But nobody came onstage.

The applause petered out.

And then, on the opposite side of the stage, Kyle heard a very peculiar sound.

It was a cross between a burp and the squeak from a squeeze toy.

Over on the side of the stage, a shoe that looked like a peeled-open banana appeared from behind a curtain.

When it landed, the shoe burp-squeaked.

As a second banana shoe burp-squeaked onto the floor, Kyle looked up and there he was—Mr. Lemoncello! He had loose and floppy limbs and was dressed in a three-piece black suit with a bright red tie. His black broad-brimmed hat was cocked at a crooked angle atop his curly white hair. Kyle was so close he could see a sly twinkle sparkling in Mr. Lemoncello’s coal-black eyes.

Treading very carefully, Mr. Lemoncello walked toward the podium. The burp-squeaks in his shoes seemed to change pitch depending on how hard he landed on his heels. He added a couple of little jig steps, a quick hop and a stutter-step skip, and yes—his shoes were squeaking out a song.

“Pop Goes the Weasel.”

On the
Pop!
Mr. Lemoncello popped behind the podium.

The crowd went wild.

Mr. Lemoncello politely bowed and said, very softly, “Tank you. Tank you.
Grazie. Grazie
.”

He bent forward so his mouth was maybe an inch away from the microphone.

“
Buon giorno
, boise and-uh girls-a.” He spoke very timidly, very slowly. “Tees ees how my-uh momma and my-uh poppa teach-uh me to speak-eh de English.”

He wiggled his ears. Straightened his back.

“But then,” he said in a crisp, clear voice, “I went to the Alexandriaville Public Library, where a wonderful librarian named Mrs. Gail Tobin helped me learn how to speak like this: ‘If two witches were watching two watches, which witch would watch which watch?’ I can also speak while upside down and underwater, but not today because I just had this suit dry-cleaned and do
not
want to get it wet.”

Mr. Lemoncello bounced across the stage like a happy grasshopper.

“Now then, children, if I may call you that—which I must because I have not yet memorized all of your names, even though I
am
working on it—what do you think is the most amazingly incredible thing you’ll find inside your wondrous new library, besides, of course, all the knowledge you need to do anything and everything you ever want or need to do?”

No one said anything. They were too mesmerized by Mr. Lemoncello’s rat-a-tat words.

“Would it be: A) robots silently whizzing their way through the library, restocking the shelves, B) the Electronic Learning Center, with three dozen plasma-screen TVs all connected to flight simulators and educational video games, or C) the Wonder Dome? Lined with ten giant video screens, it can make the whole building feel like a rocket ship blasting off into outer space!”