Escape From Mr. Lemoncello's Library

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Escape From Mr. Lemoncello's Library Page 6

by Chris Grabenstein


  Chiltington and the others traipsed off to have breakfast, but Kyle and Akimi stayed with the holographic librarian.

  “Um, I have a question,” said Kyle.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Is the library lock-in over? Are we supposed to go home now?”

  “Mr. Lemoncello will be addressing that issue shortly.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Tobin.”

  “You are welcome, KYLE.”

  After the librarian faded to a flicker, Akimi said, “By the way, Kyle, before we leave, you need to check out that room I slept in last night.”

  “The Board Room?”

  “Yeah. They call it that because, guess what? It’s filled with board games!”

  “All Lemoncellos?”

  “Nuh-uh. Stuff from other companies. Some of it goes way back to the 1890s. I think it’s Mr. Lemoncello’s personal collection. It’s like a museum up there.”

  Kyle’s eyes went wide. “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Not really. We ate so much last night.”

  “You think we have time to check out this game museum?”

  “Follow me.”

  The two friends bounded up a spiral staircase to the second floor, where they found another set of steps to take them up to the third.

  When he entered the Board Room, Kyle was blown away. “Wow!”

  The walls were lined with bookcases filled with antique games, tin toys, and card games.

  “This is incredible.”

  “I guess,” said Akimi. “If, you know, you like games.”

  Kyle smiled. “Which, you know, I do.”

  They spent several quiet minutes wandering around the room, taking in all the wacky games that people used to play. There was one display case featuring eight games with amazingly illustrated box tops. A tiny spotlight illuminated each one.

  “Wonder what’s so special about these games,” said Kyle.

  “Maybe those were Mr. Lemoncello’s favorites when he was a kid.”

  “Maybe.” But the slogan etched into the glass case confused Kyle: “Luigi Lemoncello: the first and last word in games.”

  “But these aren’t Lemoncello games,” he mumbled.

  The first spotlighted game in the case was Howdy Doody’s TV Game. After that came Hüsker Dü?, You Don’t Say!, Like Minds, Fun City, Big 6 Sports Games, Get the Message, and Ruff and Reddy.

  “It’s a puzzle,” Kyle said with a grin.

  “I thought they were games.”

  “They are. But if you string together the first or last word of each game title …” He tapped the glass in front of the first box on the bottom shelf. “You get the message.”

  “Really?” said Akimi, sounding extremely skeptical. “You’re sure it’s not just a bunch of junk somebody picked up for like fifty cents at a yard sale?”

  “Positive.” Kyle pointed to each box top as he cracked the code. “Howdy. Dü you like fun games? Get Reddy.”

  Miguel Fernandez barged into the Board Room.

  “Here you are! We need you guys in the Electronic Learning Center. Now.”

  “Why?”

  “Charles Chiltington wolfed down his breakfast, then raced up here to finish the game he started last night so he can enter his name as the first high scorer.”

  “So?”

  “The game he’s playing is all about medieval castles and dungeons!”

  This time Akimi said it: “So?”

  “He’s escaping through the sewers. The game has smell-a-vision. You ever smell a medieval sewer? Trust me, it is foul and disgusting.”

  The three of them dashed up the hall and entered the stinky room where Charles was sitting in a vibrating pedestal chair, thumbing his controller. As his avatar sloshed through a sewer pipe, the subwoofers built into his seat made every SQUISH! and SPLAT! rumble across the floor.

  “Whoa!” said Kyle. “Knock it off, Charles. You’re pumping out total tear gas.”

  “Because I’m in the sewers underneath the horse stables. It’s the secret way out of the castle. I’m going to win another game. That’s two for me, Keeley. How many for you?”

  “Yo,” said Miguel. “This room is two stories above the café. The ductwork is connected.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “You’re making everybody’s food downstairs smell like horse manure!”

  “Who cares? I’m winning.”

  Charles’s chair went FLUMP! again.

  But this time, Kyle smelled … pine trees?

  Like one of those evergreen air fresheners people hang inside their cars.

  “Aw, this stupid thing is broken.” Charles jumped out of the chair and reared back to kick it.

  “Um, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Kyle.

  “Why not?”

  “Because there’s a security camera over there and it’s aimed right at you.”

  “What? Where?”

  “See the blinking red light?”

  Suddenly, an image of Kyle pointing up at the camera lens appeared on every video screen in the Electronic Learning Center.

  Until he was replaced by Mr. Lemoncello.

  “Excellent escape plan, Charles,” said Mr. Lemoncello on the video screens.

  “Thank you, sir,” said Chiltington, smoothing out his khaki pants. “And just so you know, I saw an ant crawling up the side of this seat. That’s why I almost kicked it.”

  “How very thoughtful of you, Charles.”

  “Mr. Lemoncello?” said Akimi.

  “Yes?”

  “How come the sewer started smelling like a pine tree?”

  “Because I enjoy the odor of pine trees much more than the stench of horse poop. How about you?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Now then, will everybody else please join us upstairs in the Electronic Learning Center? I have a very important announcement to make.”

  Kyle heard feet clomping up the stairs and soon Andrew, Bridgette, Yasmeen, Sean, Haley, Rose, and Kayla hurried into the room.

  “Are we all here?” said Mr. Lemoncello.

  “Everybody except Sierra Russell,” said Kyle.

  “Ah, yes. I saw her downstairs reading When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead. We’ll reach her later. It’s nearly noon and I’m eager to move on to the next round of our competition.”

  “What competition?” asked Yasmeen Smith-Snyder.

  “The one we are about to begin.”

  “Sir?” said Sean Keegan. “I have stuff to do today.”

  “That’s fine, Sean. You are, of course, free to leave. If any of the rest of you do not wish to stay and play, kindly deposit your library cards in the discard pile.”

  A tile in the floor popped open and an empty goldfish bowl atop an ornate column rose up about three feet.

  “Just drop it in the bowl there, Sean. Attaboy. Follow the flashing red arrows in the floor to the nearest exit, where you will receive a lovely parting gift along with my everlasting admiration for your essay-writing abilities.”

  Bright red arrows danced across the floor. Sean followed them.

  “What happens if we decide to stay?” asked Akimi.

  “You will be given the chance to play a brand-new, exciting game!”

  “Is there a prize for the winner?” demanded Haley Daley.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Now Miguel shot up his hand. “Mr. Lemoncello? What do we have to do to win?”

  “Simple: Find your way out of the library using only what’s in the library.”

  “Awesome!”

  “Lame,” mumbled Kayla Corson. “I’m outta here.”

  She plunked her library card into the fishbowl and followed the blinking arrows out the door.

  “Does anyone else want or need to leave?”

  “Sorry, sir. I have soccer at two,” said Rose Vermette. “See you guys later.” She dropped her card into the discard bowl.

  The instant she did, bells rang, confetti fell from the ceiling, and every electr
onic console in the game room started ding-ding-dinging.

  “Congratulations, Rose!” cried Mr. Lemoncello, who had put on a pointy party hat. “For sticking to your prior commitments, you will receive our special Prior Commitment Sticker prize: a complete set of Lemoncello Sticker Picture Games and a laptop computer to play them on! Enjoy.”

  Charles Chiltington stepped a little closer to the security camera as Rose Vermette skipped out of the room.

  “Sir, might we assume that the prize for winning your brand-new game will be even better than a laptop computer?”

  “Yes,” said Mr. Lemoncello, taking off his party hat. “You may so assume.”

  “I’m in,” said Chiltington.

  “Me too,” said Kyle.

  “Me too,” added Akimi, Miguel, Andrew, Bridgette, Yasmeen, and Haley.

  Sierra Russell wandered into the room. Her nose was buried so deep in her book she didn’t even notice Mr. Lemoncello’s gigantic face on all the video screens.

  “Is something going on?” she said, mostly to her book pages.

  “You bet!” boomed Mr. Lemoncello.

  Sierra’s head snapped up.

  “Oh. Hello, sir.”

  “Greetings, Sierra. Sorry to interrupt your reading. Just have a quick question: Will you be staying or leaving?”

  “Well, sir, I’d like to stay. If that’s okay?”

  “Okay? It is wondermous, another word I just made up. Now then, to read you the rules of the game—because every game needs rules—here is your friend and mine, Dr. Yanina Zinchenko!”

  The video screens switched to a close-up of the librarian with the red hair and glasses.

  “Your exit from the library must be completed between noon today and noon tomorrow,” said Dr. Zinchenko.

  Mr. Lemoncello’s head popped into a corner of her screen.

  “Tomorrow’s my birthday, by the way. Mark your calendars.”

  And he ducked back out of the frame.

  “Our security guards will continue holding your cell phones,” said Dr. Zinchenko. “You may not use the library computers to contact anyone outside the building. You may, however, use them to conduct research.

  “You may also request three different types of outside assistance: one ‘Ask an Expert,’ one ‘Librarian Consultation,’ and one ‘Extreme Challenge.’ Please be advised: The Extreme Challenges are, as the name implies, extremely difficult. If you pass the challenge, your reward will be great. However, if you fail, you will be eliminated from the competition.”

  Kyle figured he’d avoid asking for one of those—unless he extremely needed to.

  “To use any of these ‘lifelines,’ ” Dr. Zinchenko continued, “simply summon Mrs. Tobin.”

  Chiltington raised his hand.

  “Yes, Charles?”

  “Would you mind telling us what the prize will be for the winner?”

  The video screen switched to an image of Mr. Lemoncello, who had done some sort of quick change. Now he was wearing sunglasses and had a silk ascot tucked into his shirt collar. He looked like a flashy Hollywood movie star. From 1939.

  “Fame and glory! The winner will become my new spokesperson and will star in all of my holiday promotions.”

  “We’ll be famous?” gushed Yasmeen, fluffing up her hair and smiling at the security camera.

  Haley stepped in front of Yasmeen. “I’ve done some modeling work. For Sherman’s Shoes in Old Town.”

  Yasmeen stepped in front of Haley. “I was an extra in a hot dog commercial once.…”

  “Well, I’m a cheerleader; Yasmeen isn’t.…”

  While the two girls continued primping and posing for the camera, Dr. Zinchenko came back on-screen to quickly rattle off some final words.

  “Your library cards are the keys to everything you will need. The library staff is here to help you find whatever it is you are looking for. The way out is not the way you came in. You may not use any of the fire exits. If you do, an alarm will sound and you will be immediately eliminated from the game. For safety purposes, you will be under constant video surveillance and you will be recorded. In the unlikely event of an emergency, you will be evacuated from the building. Creating an incident that requires evacuation will not count as having discovered a way to exit the library. Any questions?”

  “Just one,” said Andrew Peckleman, adjusting his goggle-sized glasses with his fingertip. “When exactly will the game begin?”

  Mr. Lemoncello’s face reappeared on the screens.

  “Good question, Andrew! Oh, my. It’s noon! How about … let’s say … oh, I don’t know … now!”

  The contestants raced down the stairs to the Rotunda Reading Room.

  Kyle saw Haley Daley dash down another set of steps into the basement, to what the floor plan called the Stacks.

  Miguel and Andrew, the two library experts, grabbed separate tables and started working the touch-screen computers. Bridgette Wadge did the same thing.

  Charles Chiltington strolled out the arched doorway and into the foyer with the fountain.

  Yasmeen Smith-Snyder was running around the circular room with her floor plan in front of her face, like someone frantically checking their text messages while racing down a crowded sidewalk.

  Sierra Russell found a comfy chair and sat down.

  To finish her book.

  The girl definitely wasn’t into the whole spirit of The Game.

  “So, Kyle,” said Akimi, “you want to form an alliance?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s what people do on reality shows like Survivor. We help each other until, you know, everybody else is eliminated and we have to stab each other in the back.”

  “Um, I don’t remember hearing anything about ‘eliminations.’ ”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “But, hey, there was nothing in the rules that said we couldn’t share the top prize. I just want to win!”

  “Cool. So, we’re a team?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great,” said Akimi. “I nominate you to be our captain. All in favor raise their hands.”

  Kyle and Akimi both raised their hands.

  “It’s unanimous,” said Akimi. “Okay. Let’s go ask that antique librarian a question.”

  “What?”

  “We both get to ask one question, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, here’s mine: ‘Hey, lady—how do we get out of here?’ ”

  “And you think she’ll tell you?”

  “No. Not really. So, what’s your plan?”

  “Well, I was thinking—”

  Suddenly, Yasmeen shouted, “I win!”

  The rest of them stopped whatever they were doing.

  “It’s just like last night when Kyle found dessert in the most obvious place. To get out of the library, all we have to do is use one of the fire exits. Duh.”

  She headed toward a hallway between the Book Nook Café and Community Meeting Room A.

  Kyle stood up. “Um, Yasmeen? I think maybe you missed some of what …”

  Charles Chiltington dashed into the room and shouted, “You’re not going to win, Yasmeen. Not unless you beat me to that fire exit!”

  He bolted toward the corridor.

  Yasmeen bolted toward it, too.

  “You guys?” said Kyle.

  Kyle could see a red Exit light glowing at the far end of the hallway Charles and Yasmeen were sprinting down. Charles stumbled and fell. Yasmeen kept running. Harder. Faster. She slammed into the exit bar on the metal door.

  Alarms sounded. Flashing red lights swirled. Somewhere, a tiger roared. Mr. Lemoncello’s voice rang out of the overhead speakers. “Sorry, Yasmeen. That’s where your sidewalk ends. You broke the rules. You are out of the game. Your library card will be placed in the discard bowl and you will be going home.”

  As the fire exit door slowly swung shut and Yasmeen disappeared into the bright sunshine outside the library, Kyle checked out Charles Chiltington, who would’ve been s
ent home if he hadn’t stumbled and had reached the exit first.

  The guy was smirking.

  That was when it hit Kyle: Chiltington had faked Yasmeen out. He knew she couldn’t win by going out a fire exit. But he ran down the hall to fool her into thinking she was doing the right thing.

  Oh, yeah. Chiltington was definitely in it to win it.

  No matter who he had to trample.

  Whistling casually, Charles strolled back to the lobby.

  “What’s Chiltington doing out in the entrance hall?” said Akimi. “They told us the way out isn’t the way in.”

  Before Kyle could answer, Andrew Peckleman started shouting at Miguel, who had wandered over to Peckleman’s table.

  “Get away! You’re trying to steal my idea!”

  “No, man,” said Miguel. “I just happened to see your screen and I don’t think that particular periodical—”

  “You know what, Miguel? I don’t really care what you think! This isn’t school. This is the public library and you’re not the boss in here, so just leave me alone!”

  Miguel tossed up his hands. “No problem, bro. I was just trying to help.”

  “Ha! You mean help me lose.” Andrew stormed up the closest spiral staircase to the second floor and the Dewey decimal rooms. Miguel, looking sort of sad, headed up a separate spiral staircase. Bridgette Wadge trailed after them.

  “Want to follow those guys like Bridgette did?” whispered Akimi. “I’ll take Peckleman, you take Miguel.”

  “No thanks,” said Kyle, looking up at the domed ceiling. “I’m much more interested in the windows up there.”

  Three stories above the rotunda floor, just below the Wonder Dome, there was a series of ten arched windows set between the recessed statue nooks. The windows acted like skylights at the base of the dome, allowing sunshine to flood into the room below.

  “Do you think those windows open?” asked Akimi.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ve never let a closed or locked window stand between me and winning a game. Just ask my dad.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Come on.” Kyle trotted over to the cushy chair where Sierra Russell was peacefully reading her book.

  “Um, excuse me, hate to interrupt …”

  Sierra raised her head. She had a very dreamy look in her eyes.

 

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