The Island of Dr. Libris (21 page)

“Billy?” Walter whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Can you add a sentence or two saying this vine I’m kneeling on isn’t poison ivy?”

“No problem.” Billy cleared his throat and started narrating. “With a blinding flash of dazzling white light,
the time machine zips forward to the present day and lands safely on the island in the middle of Lake Katrine.”

Blindingly bright light filled the clearing.

His mom and dad were back, sitting side by side on the driver seat of H. G. Wells’s time machine.

“It worked!” said Walter.

Billy kept narrating. “The instant they return to the present, however, the time machine and any poison ivy in the general vicinity disappears.”

The sled-like contraption vanished! His parents fell on their butts. An empty pie pan rattled around on the ground.

“Oh, man,” moaned Walter. “They ate the whole pie.”

“Sorry,” said Billy before jumping back into his story. “The jolt of their landing makes William and Kimberly Gillfoyle forget how Walter Andrews tricked them into coming out to the island.”

“That’s good,” said Walter. “Erase any questions we can’t answer.”

Billy nodded. “They also forget all about their time traveling and the time machine and anything else that was totally weird. All that remains are the happy memories they gathered on their journey back into their shared past. They remember how it felt when they first fell in love.”

“Ooh,” said Walter. “That last bit was good. Poetical.”

“Thanks,” said Billy. “The end. The rest is up to them.”

Billy’s mom and dad looked confused.

“Where are we?” asked Billy’s dad.

“I’m not sure,” said his mom.

Billy’s dad stood up, dusted off the seat of his pants, and held out his hand to help Billy’s mom stand.

“Another nice touch,” said Walter. “Very romantic.”

“I didn’t write that bit,” said Billy. “Dad did.”

“Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really enjoying this story. It has heart, drama …”

“Shhh.”

Billy’s dad looked around, trying to get his bearings.

“Huh,” he said. “I think we’re out on the island. In the middle of the lake.”

“Impossible,” said his mom.

“No, look.” He led her to a silvery smooth tree. “Remember? We carved our initials on this old beech.”

Billy’s mom put her hand on the tree’s bark. “So how’d we end up on the island?”

“Maybe we entered one of those parallel universes from your dissertation.”

Billy’s mom smiled. “Have you actually been paying attention to what I’ve been doing with my life?”

“Not as much as I should have, but yeah. You have a very beautiful brain, Dr. Gillfoyle.”

“Why, thank you.”

They were gazing dreamily at each other.

“Billy?” said Walter. “I’m closing my eyes. They sound like they might start kissing and junk.”

Billy smiled.

Mission accomplished.

“How dare you look so happy, Sir William!” cried an angry voice.

Billy whipped around.

The Sheriff of Nottingham was stalking through the forest with his dagger drawn. “Didst thou honestly think thou couldst be rid of me so easily?”

Billy was too stunned to speak. He and Walter scrabbled out of the bushes.

“Billy?” said his dad.

“Walter?” said his mom.

The sheriff hobbled out after them.

“Who’s he?” asked Billy’s dad.

“Methinks he is but a cowardly villain!” cried Robin Hood, swinging into the meadow on a vine.

“You’re Robin Hood!” said Billy’s mom. “You were my favorite.”

Robin Hood did his grand, hat-twirling bow as Maid Marian leapt out of the shadows, her broadsword at the ready.

“You fools!” cried the sheriff. “The two of thee hath, once again, fallen into my trap.”

“Nay!” said Marian. “It is thou who hast fallen into
our
trap!”

Robin raised his bow and arrow. “All for one!”

“And one for all!” The three musketeers and D’Artagnan charged into the moonlit field with their fencing foils swirling. Hercules and Tom Sawyer were right behind them.

“Billy?” said his dad again. “Who are all these people?”

“My new friends.”

The sheriff was surrounded, but he didn’t seem the least bit concerned. In fact, he was grinning.

“There is nothing that any of thee can do to be rid of me.”

“Billy?” said Walter. “I think we need that sharkodile again.”

“Ha!” scoffed the sheriff. “Thy hideous monster shall not scare me away a second time, Sir William.”

“Maybe not,” said Billy. “But he might
carry
you away. In my mind, I just imagined him with dragon wings.”

Billy did his two-finger taxicab whistle.

From overhead came the leathery sound of flapping dragon wings.

The flying sharkodile swooped down and plucked the Sheriff of Nottingham right off the ground.

“No!” screamed the sheriff. “Curses and foul language! Puteth me down! Puteth me down!”

The sheriff tried to shake free, but it was no use. His pantaloons were firmly clamped in the sharkodile’s mammoth jaws. The prehistoric creature screeched merrily and carried the sheriff into the moonlit night.

“Huzzah!” shouted Robin Hood, tossing his hat up into the air. “We hath seen the last of that vile varlet.”

“What was that?” exclaimed Billy’s dad. “And what if he comes back?”

“I don’t think he can, Dad,” said Billy. “He isn’t real.”

“So that guy’s not really Robin Hood?” asked Billy’s dad.

His mom shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Just relax, sweetheart. Lighten up. Go with the flow.”

Billy wrote a quick epilogue to make certain his parents forgot all the crazy characters they’d met on the island and all the wild things there—except, of course, the important stuff.

Like blueberry pie.

And how it had felt when they first fell in love and carved their initials in the silvery bark of a beech tree.

All the characters said good-bye to Billy and Walter before the boys left the island.

“If you ever need us again,” Hercules told Billy, “you know where to find us.”

“We shall be slumbering peacefully betwixt our pages,” added Robin Hood.

“Simply open our books and read,” said Maid Marian, “and we shall once more be at your side.”

Hercules squirmed in his tight leggings and tugged at
the collar of his ill-fitting tunic. “But next time, I hope to be wearing my loincloth and lion cape.”

“And,” said Tom Sawyer, “I reckon I’ll be whitewashing another fence.”

Billy and Walter rowed Billy’s parents back across the lake.

During the crossing, Billy had a funny thought: Nick Farkas racing down to the Lake Katrine Public Library first thing in the morning to check out every single
Pollyanna
book ever written.

As for Dr. Libris? No way was Billy ever going to work for that creepy loon.

When they reached the dock, Billy’s mom and dad climbed out and, holding hands, strolled up to the cabin, laughing and talking the whole way.

“The end,” said Walter. “Until tomorrow. I still want to go treasure hunting.”

Billy did, too—although he figured he didn’t
really
need to find any treasure. Neither did his parents. They all just needed to remember what they already had.

For Billy, that meant never forgetting he had a pretty amazing imagination that could make even the impossible seem real. He could create his own sideways staircases.

“Hey, Billy?”

“Yeah, Walter?”

“Tomorrow, after we go treasure hunting, can we go back to the Red Barn?”

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not one hundred percent certain how your magical mind works and all, but I was wondering: Can you write me up some free waffle fries?”

Billy smiled. “Who knows, Walter? Maybe I can.”

Writing this book, I had the chance to go back and reread some of the greatest stories ever told, all of them crafted by masterful magicians, authors who created characters so real and full of life, they will remain with us forever. Here’s a list so you can read them, too.