by Xavier Bonet
“Everyone?” said Jordan quietly.
“So in this world, the plague could be real,” Kelly said. “Great.”
“Exactly,” Baru said. “Which is why I think it’s best we stay away from that thing.”
The library was quiet for a moment. In the distance, Cal heard the distinct raps and taps of the raven.
It’s a message, Cal thought. I just know it!
“Show us where the three-eighties are,” Cal said to Javier. “The raven has some sort of message for us.”
Jordan shivered. “Hurry up,” she said. “I don’t like being split up for long.”
As the boys followed Javier winding his way through the stacks, Baru turned to Cal. “Jordan’s right, you know,” said Baru. “In horror movies the bad stuff always happens when the heroes split up.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Books and Mortar
Cal and Baru followed Javier across the second floor, deep into the nonfiction stacks. But before they reached the 380s, where the Morse code books were shelved, Javier stopped short.
“Shhh,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips.
Cal and Baru followed Javier’s gaze.
The Bucket Man had changed locations. He was just a few feet ahead, with his back toward them.
Cal, Baru, and Javier watched as the man dipped his trowel into the bucket and spread what looked like wet cement onto the back of a thick book. Very carefully, he set the book onto another book, also dripping with cement.
He’s building a wall . . . of books? Cal couldn’t understand. Why?
“This is not good,” Baru said.
“What’s he doing?” Cal asked.
“In many of Edgar Allan Poe’s stories, horrible things happen,” Baru explained. “One thing Poe was obsessed with? Being buried alive.”
“He often wrote about people who were trapped somewhere unsafe or hiding dead bodies in strange places,” added Javier.
“Oh no,” Cal said. “What story is this guy from?”
“I think ‘The Black Cat,’” Baru said. “In it, the narrator accidentally kills his wife and tries to hide her body in the wall. He seals it up with bricks. And since the Bucket Man doesn’t have any bricks . . .”
“He’s using books,” Cal murmured. “Perfect.”
“I don’t see a dead body,” Javier said. “Unless . . . You think he’s going to put one of us in there?”
“We have to stay away from him,” Cal said suddenly. “Let’s not give him any ideas.”
Javier sighed. “There’s only one problem,” he whispered. “We can’t get to the Morse code book.” He pointed to a shelf a few feet past the man with the bucket. “I can even see where the book is. I’ll just try to sneak by him and get it.”
“No way,” Cal said. “It’d be easier for one of us to go and grab it.”
Javier thought about it. “OK,” he said. “But please, be careful. If he starts to turn, run back here as fast as you can.”
“You got it,” Cal said. “Which book is it?”
Javier pointed toward the shelf. Cal could make out a dark blue volume. It seemed to have been bound in leather . . . or some other kind of skin.
“That one. See it? The blue one,” Javier said.
Cal nodded. “Be right back,” he said.
Cal crouched down and walked slowly toward the shelf. The Bucket Man grunted and sighed as he built his wall.
After what seemed like a heart-pounding eternity, Cal reached the bookshelf. None of the books had titles printed on the spine, but he knew the blue book was the one he needed. He reached out and touched the spine.
But as he did, he heard a sharp whisper.
“Not that one!”
Cal whipped around. Javier was shaking his head and motioning with his hands to the left. Cal tried another book, but Javier kept shaking his head.
“The blue one!” Javier whispered.
“They’re all blue!” Cal whispered back.
But he was too loud. The Bucket Man turned. He stared at them with his bloodshot, angry eyes.
“YOU!” he growled. “YOU KNOW WHERE SHE IS!”
Cal was pretty sure his heart was going to break every rib in his chest from beating so hard. He grabbed three blue books, then turned to run.
But the Bucket Man blocked his way.
“Cal!” shouted Baru.
Cal stood frozen. The Bucket Man’s slobbery lips parted to reveal a full set of fangs.
“Toss me that book,” Baru whispered to Javier.
The librarian pulled down a heavy tome from the nearby shelf. “This one?” he asked. “But why do you want to read Cannibal Legends of the South Seas?”
“I don’t want to read it,” said Baru, grabbing the book.
“Get away from me, you lunk!” cried Cal to the huge man.
Baru hefted the book in his right hand. Then he swung back and threw the tome directly at the Bucket Man’s wall of books.
CRAAASH!
The books, covered in the wet, drippy cement, collapsed. The Bucket Man roared in anger. He lurched toward the falling books. Cal ducked under the man’s arms, almost slipped on the wet cement, and ran back to Javier and Baru. The three of them headed toward the center of the second floor, where Jordan and Kelly were waiting.
As soon as they emerged from the stacks, Jordan and Kelly joined them and they all ran downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Behind them, heavy footsteps thundered against the flat stone stairs. The big guy was chasing them.
“I hope that book is worth it, Cal,” Jordan said. “Because that dude is not happy with us!”
“I’m not even sure I got the right book,” Cal called back to her.
Downstairs, Javier led them toward the administrative offices—or what were the offices in the actual library. Cal was relieved to see there were rooms there, and that the rooms had doors, and that the doors had locks.
They ran inside the first one and slammed the door. In the darkness, they were almost afraid to breathe.
CHAPTER SIX
Rapid Research
“Does anyone have a candle?” Cal whispered. He wasn’t sure anyone would hear him over the beating of his tell-tale heart. “I need to look at the books.”
“There’s a monster after us and you still want to figure out what that bird is saying?” Jordan asked.
Cal could hear a drawer open, and then the strike of a match. “Here,” Javier said, lighting a long, thin candle and passing it over.
“How’d you know that was there?” Kelly asked.
Javier smiled. In the candlelight, his face—all of their faces—looked creepy. “The emergency supplies are stored in that drawer. Of course in our library, that’s an AED and a flashlight.”
“Well, it works for me,” Cal said. He held the candle above the books and sighed with relief. “Yes, this one I grabbed is the right one!”
“Cal was right,” said Baru. “All those books are blue.”
“The Morse code book is blue,” Javier pointed out. “The other ones are indigo and teal.”
Cal paged through until he found a diagram showing the letters that corresponded with each Morse code. Then he compared it to the marks he’d made on the parchment.
“HELP ME,” Cal read aloud. He looked up at the rest of the group. “The raven is saying ‘help me.’”
Kelly shuddered. “That bird is creepy,” she said. “Do you think we should help it?”
“Can I look?” Baru asked.
Cal handed the book over. Baru flipped through it.
“This is interesting,” Baru said. “Edgar Allan Poe wrote ‘The Raven’ in 1845. And Samuel Morse invented Morse code in 1836.”
“So Poe could’ve known Morse code, right?” Cal asked.
“For sure,” Baru replied.
“OK, but what does any of this have to do with the raven and what he needs help with?” Kelly asked.
Just at that moment, they heard a rustle of feathers outside the door. The r
aven was perched outside. It tapped and rapped its beak against the wooden door.
Cal grabbed the book away from Baru and turned back to the code.
The raven pecked out more code.
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
When the raven was silent, Cal looked up. “FIND LENORE,” he said. “What’s a Lenore?”
Baru laughed and nodded in excitement. “Of course!” he said. “The poet’s lost Lenore!”
“You’re gonna have to explain that one,” Cal said.
“I’ve never read much Poe,” Javier admitted. “Too creepy. Except for that one about the pirate treasure and the gold bug.”
“Well,” Baru said, “Poe wrote his poem ‘The Raven’ about a guy who is looking for Lenore, his lost love. The guy’s all messed up about it and the raven comes and blurts ‘nevermore,’ no matter what he says.”
“So did Lenore . . . die?” Cal asked.
“Probably murdered by a bucket man,” Jordan muttered.
Baru shrugged. “Hard to say,” he said. “That’s the thing about poems—you’re sort of left to figure it out on your own.”
“So maybe Lenore died and maybe she didn’t,” Kelly said. “That’s kind of spooky.”
“Totally,” Cal said. “OK. So . . . what? The poet sent this bird out to find his lost girlfriend? Here? In the library?”
“That’s gotta be it!” Baru said.
“You think she’s here?” Javier asked. “Wow.”
“Maybe those two creepy creatures are looking for her too!” Jordan cried.
“It’s worth a shot,” Kelly said, shrugging. She stood up. “Come on. Let’s find Lenore.”
“Seriously?” Jordan asked. “Did you forget about the Red Death and the bucket man?”
“I think Kelly’s right,” Baru said. “Lenore must be here somewhere. And we have no choice but to find her. Unless you want to stay here forever and never get the library to change back to normal?”
Jordan sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go. But this time we’re sticking together.”
Javier slid the heavy door open, and they walked back into the main room of the library.
Outside, the raven was waiting for them. As soon as all five people left the office, it hopped up and began to slowly fly away.
“Should we follow it?” Cal asked, looking at his friends. He put the Morse code book under his arm.
“Why not?” Javier said.
As the raven flew away, they followed close behind. It seemed to be heading toward the front of the library, where the main entrance was.
“Lenore?” Kelly called tentatively. “Are you here somewhere?”
The others joined in.
“Lenore!” Baru called.
“Hey, Lenore!” said Cal.
“Come on already, Lenore,” Jordan said. “I want to get out of here!”
The raven stopped, landing gracefully on a table near the front entrance. It pointed its beak toward the door, and the five humans looked in that direction.
A woman sat behind an old, ornate desk, exactly where the information desk would be in the library back in the real world.
She was reading a book.
She seemed to be glowing.
She looked extremely familiar.
“Rolene?” Cal asked.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Just Mist
It was Rolene—the Nightingale Library’s reference librarian. Sort of. This woman had long hair, all piled up on top of her head. Her face was smooth and flawless, as if spun from silk. She wore an old-fashioned gray dress.
Rolene was reading aloud. “‘For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams, of the beautiful Annabel Lee.’” She sighed and looked up from her book. “Oh, hello,” she whispered, smiling.
“That can’t be Rolene,” Javier said, shaking his head. “She wouldn’t be here.”
Cal took a step closer. “Rolene . . .”
“Wait a minute,” Kelly said. “Lenore!”
“Rolene,” Jordan corrected her. “Pay attention.”
“No,” Kelly said. “Lenore is an anagram for Rolene!”
Cal rearranged the letters in his mind. “You’re right!” he said.
Kelly smiled at the woman. “You’re Lenore, right?” she asked.
The woman smiled kindly in return, but instead of answering, she just held a finger to her lips. “Shhh!” she whispered.
“The raven wanted us to find you, Lenore,” Cal said. “I think your poet guy misses you.”
Lenore turned and looked up at the dark bird.
“He’s been missing you for one hundred and seventy-three years,” Baru said.
“That’s some good math, book guy,” Jordan said.
Lenore took a deep breath and sighed. With a look of complete calm, she placed a thin ribbon along the binding to keep her place and closed her book.
“I had to leave long ago,” Lenore said. “I sought a place where I wasn’t simply a dead woman in a sad poem.”
“So you didn’t really die?” Cal asked.
“In Poe’s mind, yes,” Lenore said. “He created me and just as quickly decided I could no longer live. The poem isn’t the same if I’m still alive.”
“Maybe he made a mistake,” Jordan said. “Baru showed me the poem. It sounds like the guy in the poem wishes you’d come back.”
“My dear,” Lenore said. “This is where I belong, here among my first loves—books.”
“Sure. If she went back, it changes everything,” Cal said. “The poem doesn’t work anymore if he’s happy to see her again.”
“You’re right,” Baru replied. He scratched the thick crop of dark hair on his head. “Poe’s works were pretty dark. A burst of happiness like Lenore returning could completely upset his writing.”
“So, Lenore isn’t really lost,” Kelly said. “It’s just that she doesn’t want to be found.”
“Then she stays here,” Cal said. “Simple. If Poe wrote that Lenore is lost, then that’s how it should be. The narrator in the poem just needs to know that.”
“So what’s the plan?” Jordan asked. “Tell the bird to buzz off?”
“Not exactly,” Cal said. He handed the Morse code book to Baru. Then he leaned over to the nearby table and picked up the feather quill that sat there. “We send a message and let him know that Lenore is happy where she is.”
“But what’s that going to do?” Jordan asked.
“I don’t know,” Cal admitted. “I’ve never written a message to a made-up guy in a poem before.”
Before he could write anything, Kelly gripped his arm. “Look, Cal,” she whispered.
Cal looked up, and a cold wave of terror washed over him. The Red Death had appeared in front of the information desk. The undead fiend reached out and grasped Lenore by the arm.
“You’re . . . coming with me . . . ,” it rasped.
The Pages and Javier scrambled backward in terror as Lenore struggled to free herself from the monster’s grip.
“No!” Lenore shouted. “I belong here!”
“We have to do something,” Kelly cried. “We can’t let that thing take her!”
Jordan snatched the Morse code book away from Baru and flung it at the Red Death’s face. The book struck dead meat, and the monster groaned. It instantly evaporated into a red mist. Its rotten, tattered clothes dropped to the ground.
“Nice shot!” Javier shouted.
Cal realized that was the second time that night someone had used a book to defeat evil.
Freed from the monster’s grip, Lenore scrambled closer to the Pages. But a moment later, the red mist swirled and began to re-form into the monster. Slowly, it rose from the ground as if awakening from a long nap.
The raven cawed and rapidly tapped the edge of the shelf behind the desk.
Things are going to keep coming back to take Lenore if this poet doesn’t stop looking for her, Cal thought.
The monster was quickly becoming solid again. Cal scribbled a note as f
ast as he could.
“That’s harsh, Cal,” Kelly said.
“The guy needs to take a hint,” Cal said with a shrug.
With an eye on the approaching red zombie, he rolled the little message up into a scroll. He walked toward the raven and cringed when the monster bird cawed and flapped its wings once. Carefully, he extended the parchment to the bird.
“Bring this back to the poet, would you?” Cal asked.
As if it completely understood, the raven grasped the note in its claw.
“Here comes old Red!” Jordan shouted. “We have to do something, guys!”
“Go on,” Kelly said. “Bring him the message, birdy.”
The raven squatted, flapped its wings, and leapt into the air, circling the information desk once.
“Remind him to leave Lenore alone!” Cal shouted.
The bird circled faster and faster. The papers swirled from the wind created by the massive bird’s wings.
“When does she want to hear from him again?” yelled Cal.
“NEVERMORE!” the raven cawed.
“Smart raven,” Jordan said. “That’s right!”
The Pages, Javier, and Lenore watched as the bird rose over the shelves. It flew through the doorway and was gone.
But the battle wasn’t over.
They heard a groan. When Cal turned, he saw the Bucket Man lumbering toward them. An old guy dressed in pajamas approached from the other side. He had one giant eyeball.
Another man in a jester costume and clown make-up was galloping toward them from behind.
Poe’s creations were coming from everywhere. In seconds, they would be surrounded.
“I’m not sure it worked,” Baru said.
The clock gonged once.
The entire library seemed to glow, and then it went dark.
Out of the shadows, an airy voice whispered, “Thank you . . . evermore.”
Epilogue
As if in a blink, the T. Middleton Nightingale City Library was restored to its former glory. The darkness was lifted, and Poe’s monsters were gone.
It worked, Cal thought. He got the message.
When the library was back to normal, Cal looked around. They all stood next to Rolene’s information desk at the front of the library.