Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library (7 page)

But Charles Chiltington knew the answer: “It was the first spacecraft to orbit the moon.”

“Correct.”

Chiltington rolled a five, landing him in last place.

Kyle’s next question was tougher:

“Who was famous for saying, ‘Book ’em, Danno’?”

“Um, that guy on
Hawaii Five-0
?”

“Please be more specific.”

“Uh, the one with the shiny hair. Jack Lord?”

“That is correct.”

Kyle breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness he and his dad sometimes watched reruns of old TV shows from the 1960s.

But when he flicked the computerized dice, his luck hit a brick wall. He rolled snake eyes and moved up two measly desks.

Meanwhile, Miguel went down with a question about Barbra Streisand. (Kyle wasn’t exactly sure who she was.)

And Charles Chiltington surged ahead with a correct answer about the Beatles’ “Hey Jude” and a double-sixes roll.

As the game went on, Kyle and Chiltington, the only players still standing, kept answering correctly and moving around the room, until they were both seated at a desk in the innermost ring—only six spaces away from Dr. Zinchenko’s desk and victory. Kyle was seriously glad he and his mom had played so many games of Trivial Pursuit—with the original, extremely
old
cards.

“Kyle, here is your next question: What song in the movie
Doctor Dolittle
won an Academy Award?”

Kyle squinted. He had that movie. An old VHS cassette tape that his mom had bought at a garage sale. Too bad they didn’t have a VCR to watch it on. But even though he’d never seen the movie, he had read the front and back of the box a couple of times.

“Um, ‘Talk to the Animals’?”

“Correct.”

He started breathing again.

“Roll the dice, please, Mr. Keeley.”

Kyle did.

Another pair of ones. He moved up two spaces. Now he was only four desks away from winning.

“Mr. Chiltington, here is your next question: Who was elected president in 1968?”

“I believe that was Richard Milhous Nixon.”

“You are also correct.”

Chiltington didn’t wait for the librarian to tell him to roll the dice. He flicked his fingers across the glass pad.

“Yes! Double sixes. Again.” He moved around the last ring of desks, tapping their tops, counting them off even though everybody knew his twelve was more than good enough to carry him to the finish line.

“Congratulations, Mr. Chiltington,” Dr. Zinchenko said as she handed him the key to the private suite. “You are this evening’s first winner.”

“Thank you, Dr. Zinchenko. I am truly and sincerely honored.”

“Congratulations, Charles,” said Kyle. “Way to win.”

“Get used to it, Keeley,” he answered in a voice only the other kids could hear. “I’m a Chiltington. We never lose.”

What happened next was extremely cool.

A holographic image of a second librarian appeared beside Dr. Zinchenko at the center desk. She looked a little like Princess Leia being beamed out of R2-D2 in
Star Wars
. Except she had an old-fashioned bubble-top hairdo, cat’s-eye glasses, and a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows.

“Here to present our official library lock-in rules,” said Dr. Zinchenko, “is Mrs. Gail Tobin, head librarian of the Alexandriaville Public Library back in the 1960s, when Mr. Lemoncello was your age.”

Overhead, the Wonder Dome had shifted back to its ten Dewey decimal displays.

“How old is she?” asked Sean Keegan.

“She’d be a hundred and ten if she were still alive.”

“But she’s dead and working here?”

“Let’s just say her spirit lives on in this hologram.”

“Mrs. Tobin’s the one who helped Mr. Lemoncello so much,” Kyle whispered to Akimi. “When he was a kid.”

“I know. Her hair looks like a beehive.”

Kyle shrugged. “From what I’ve seen on TV, the 1960s were generally weird.”

“Welcome, children, to the library of the future,” said the flickering projection. “Dr. Zinchenko will now pass out Lemoncello Library floor plans—your map and guide to all that this extraordinary building has to offer. Your new library cards will grant you access to all rooms except the master control center—the red door you passed on your way in—and, of course, Mr. Lemoncello’s private suite on the third floor.”

Charles Chiltington dangled his golden key in front of his face. “I believe you need
this
to enter that.”

Mrs. Tobin ignored him. She was a hologram. That made it easier.

“Security personnel are on duty twenty-four hours a day,” she continued. “During your stay, all of your actions will be recorded by video cameras, as outlined in the consent agreements you and your parents signed earlier.”

“Are we going to be on a reality TV show?” asked Haley, smiling up at a tiny camera with a blinking red light.

“It is a distinct possibility,” said Dr. Zinchenko.

“I like television,” said the ghostly image of Mrs. Tobin. “
Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In
is my favorite program. Returning to the rules. The use of personal electronic devices is strictly prohibited at all times during the lock-in.”

The security guard, Clarence, and a guy who looked like his identical twin brother entered the rotunda, each of them carrying an aluminum attaché case.

“Kindly deposit all cell phones, iPods, and iPads in the receptacles provided by our security guards, Clarence and Clement. Your devices will be safely stored for the duration of your stay and will be returned to you at the conclusion of our activities. Also, you may use the desktop pad computers in this room to comb through our card catalog and conduct Internet research. However, these devices cannot send or receive email or text messages—whatever those might be. Remember, I retired in 1973. We still used carbon paper. And now Dr. Zinchenko will walk you through the floor plan.”

Everybody unfolded their map pamphlets.

“As you can see,” said Dr. Zinchenko, “fiction titles are located here in the reading room. The Children’s Enrichment Room, with soundproof walls, is over there. Two fully equipped community meeting rooms as well as the Book Nook Café—behind those windows where the curtains are drawn—are also located on this floor. Upstairs on two, you will find ten numbered doors, each leading into a chamber filled with books, information, and, well,
displays
related to its corresponding Dewey decimal category.”

Kyle raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“Where’s the Electronic Learning Center?”

Dr. Zinchenko grinned. “Upstairs on the third floor, where you will also find the Board Room, the Art and Artifacts Room, the IMAX theater, the Lemoncello-abilia Room, the—”

“Can we go upstairs and play?” asked Bridgette Wadge. “I want to try out the space shuttle simulator.”

“I want to learn how to drive a car!” said Sean Keegan. “A race car!”

“I want to conquer the world with Alexander the Great!” said Yasmeen Smith-Snyder.

Apparently, everybody was doing what Kyle had already done: checking out the “Available Educational Gameware” listed on the back of the floor plan.

“Early access to the Electronic Learning Center will be tonight’s second prize,” said Dr. Zinchenko. “To win it, you must use the library’s resources to find dessert, which we have hidden somewhere in the building. Whoever does the research and locates the goodies first will also be the first one allowed into the Electronic Learning Center. So use your wits and use your library. Go find dessert!”

Everybody raced around the room and sat down at separate desks to start tapping on the glass computer pads.

Well, everybody except Sierra Russell. She spent like two seconds swiping her fingers across a screen, wrote something down with a stubby pencil on a slip of paper, then wandered off to inspect the three-story-tall curved bookcases lining the walls at the back half of the rotunda. Kyle watched as she stepped onto a slightly elevated
platform with handles like you’d see on your grandmother’s walker. It even had a basket attached to the front.

“Dr. Zinchenko?”

“Yes, Ms. Russell?”

“Is this safe? Because the book I want is all the way up at the top.”

“Yes. Just make sure your feet are securely locked in.”

Sierra wiggled her leg. Kyle heard a metallic snap.

“It’s like a ski boot,” said Sierra.

“That’s right. Now use the keypad to tell the hover ladder the call number for the book you are interested in and hang on tight.”

Sierra consulted the slip of paper and tapped some keys.

“The bottom of that platform you are standing on is a magnet,” said Dr. Zinchenko. “There are ribbons of electromagnetic material in the lining of the bookcases. The strength of those magnets will be modulated by our maglev computer based on the call number you input.”

Two seconds later, Sierra Russell was floating in the air, drifting up and to the left. It was absolutely awesome.

“The hover ladder must use advanced magnetic levitation technology,” said Miguel, seated at the desk to Kyle’s right. “Just like the maglev bullet trains in Japan.”

“Cool,” mumbled Kyle.

And for the first time in his life, Kyle Keeley wanted to check out a library book more than anything in the world.

“How about we work together?” said Akimi when she sat down at Kyle’s table.

“Hmmm?”

Kyle couldn’t take his eyes off Sierra Russell. She had drifted up about twenty-five feet and was leaning against the railings of her floating platform, completely lost in a new book.

“Hello? Earth to Kyle? Do you want somebody else to get first dibs on the Electronic Learning Center?”

“No.”

“Then focus.”

“Okay. So how do we use our wits and the library to find dessert?”

Akimi nodded toward Miguel, whose fingers were dancing across the screen of his desktop’s tablet computer.

“I think he’s doing a search in the card catalog,” whispered Akimi.

“Why?”

“It’s how you find stuff in a library, Kyle.”

“I know that. But we’re not looking for
books
about dessert. We need to find actual food.”

Andrew Peckleman stood up from his desk and sprinted up a wrought-iron spiral staircase leading to the second floor. Two seconds later, Charles Chiltington was sprinting up the staircase behind him.

All the other players soon followed. Everybody was headed to the second floor and the Dewey decimal rooms. Miguel finally popped up from his desk and made a mad dash for the nearest staircase.

“It’s got to be up in the six hundreds, you guys,” he called out to Kyle and Akimi.

“Thanks,” said Kyle. But he still didn’t budge from his seat.

“I guess the six hundreds is the Dewey decimal category where you find books about desserts,” said Akimi. “Maybe we should …”

“Wait a second,” said Kyle.

“Um, Kyle, in case you haven’t noticed, you, me, and glider girl Sierra are the only ones still on this floor, and Sierra isn’t really
on
the floor because she’s floating.”

“Hang on, Akimi. I have an idea.” Kyle pulled out his floor plan. “Dessert is probably hiding in plain sight. Just like the bonus codes in Squirrel Squad. Follow me.”

“Where to?”

“The Book Nook Café. The one room in the library where, according to what Dr. Zinchenko told us back at the hotel, food and drinks are actually allowed.”

They strolled into the cozy café.

“Whoo-hoo!” shouted Akimi.

The walls were decorated with shelves of cookbooks but several tables were loaded down with trays of cookies, cakes, ice cream, and fruit!

“That’s why the curtains were closed behind the windows into the rotunda,” said Akimi. “So we couldn’t see all this food. Way to go, Kyle.”

Kyle did his best imitation of Charles Chiltington: “I’m a Keeley, Akimi. We never lose. Except, of course, when we don’t win.”

After everyone had dessert, Kyle and Akimi were the first ones allowed to enter the Electronic Learning Center.

Kyle flew the space shuttle, making an excellent landing on Mars before crashing into one of Saturn’s moons. Akimi rode a horse with Paul Revere. Then Kyle learned how to drive a stick-shift stock car on the Talladega racetrack while Akimi climbed into a tiny submarine to swim with sharks, dolphins, and sea turtles—all of which were projected on the glass walls of her undersea simulator.