Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library (22 page)

Peering over the railing on the third-floor balcony at close to two a.m., Andrew Peckleman saw Sierra Russell sitting all alone in the Rotunda Reading Room.

Andrew had spent the night on the third floor losing video games to Charles.

And being reminded about how much he needed to break into Community Meeting Room B to “borrow” any clues Kyle Keeley’s team had gathered, to pay Charles back for wasting so much of “the team’s time” on the
Anne of Green Gables
clue due to his “foolish fear” of heights.

Andrew had promised Charles he’d do whatever it took.

“If anyone on Team Keeley is going to help us break into their headquarters,” Charles had said, “it will be the shy girl who is constantly reading. Have you noticed what Sierra Russell uses for a bookmark?”

“No,” Andrew had honestly answered.

“Her library card, which of course doubles as a key card for Meeting Room B. Find a way to borrow it.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Of course not. This is a library. People borrow books, don’t they?”

“Well, yeah …”

“Did I mention that I have three thousand Facebook friends? Two thousand Twitter followers? Each and every one of them will hear what a weenie and wimp you are if you don’t do this thing to guarantee that our team wins.”

So Andrew made his way down to the first floor.

Sierra, as usual, was reading a book.

As he moved closer, Andrew saw a flash of white.

Charles was right. Sierra was using her shiny white library card to mark her place in the book’s pages.

He made his way to the cluster of overstuffed reading chairs.

“Good book?”

His voice startled her.

“Oh. Hello. Yes.”

“Mind if I join you?” He slid into a crinkly leather seat opposite Sierra. “So, um, what’re you reading?”

“
Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator
by Roald Dahl.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard about that book. Where’s the rest of your team?”

“They went to bed. Want to get up bright and early. Before the doors on the second floor open again.”

“Yeah. Haley and Charles conked out, too. Guess it’s just us bookworms, huh?”

“Well, it is kind of late,” said Sierra. “I’m going to go upstairs and …”

“May I take a look?”

“Hmmm?”

“At your book. I’ve never actually read it. I just tell people I have.”

“Oh. Sure.” Sierra handed it to him.

“Thank you.”

Andrew flipped through the pages until he found the spot where Sierra had tucked in her library card. “Wouldn’t it be cool if this library had a flying elevator like in that Willy Wonka movie? Especially if you could use it to crash through the roof like Charlie and Wonka did. That’d be a pretty cool way to escape from the library, huh?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

That was when Andrew made the switch. He slipped his library card into Sierra’s book and palmed hers.

Charles would be so proud of him!

“So,” he said, closing the book, “did you ever read
The Elevator Family
?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“It’s all about this family that lives in the elevator of a San Francisco hotel. And let’s just say, the book has its ups and its downs!”

Andrew laughed hysterically, because it was one of the
funniest jokes he knew. Sierra sort of chuckled. He handed back her book.

Overhead, the Wonder Dome dissolved out of its Dewey decimal mode and, with a swirl of colors, became a bright green bedroom with a pair of red-framed windows looking out on a blue night sky with a full moon and a blanket of twinkling stars. In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon, and a picture of a cow jumping over the moon.

The ceiling had become the bunny’s bedroom from
Goodnight Moon
.

A quiet old lady bunny in a frumpy blue dress hopped into the Rotunda Reading Room. Two tiny cats followed her.

“Great,” said Andrew. “Another stupid hologram.”

“I think she’s cute,” said Sierra.

“Hush,” said the bunny. “Goodnight clocks and goodnight socks. Goodnight, Sierra.”

“Goodnight, Bunny.” Sierra took her book and headed upstairs.

“Goodnight, Andrew,” said the bunny.

“Right.”

He pocketed the purloined library card. He couldn’t do anything with it right away. Not while the holographic bunny’s handlers were watching on the spy cameras.

But first thing in the morning …

“Goodnight old bunny saying hush,” he called out.

And then, under his breath, he muttered, “In the morning, our competition we’re gonna crush.”

Up bright and early the next morning, Kyle made his way across the Rotunda Reading Room.

It was eight-fifteen. The Dewey decimal doors would open in one hour and forty-five minutes. The game would be over in less than four hours.

Kyle was totally pumped.

Sierra Russell, on the other hand, was sitting in a comfy chair reading a book. “Hey,” said Kyle.

“Hi,” said Sierra, stifling a small yawn.

“Did you stay up all night reading?”

“No. I went upstairs around two. But there was a new stack of books on the librarian’s desk when I came down.”

“Oh, really? What’d you find?”

“Five copies of this.”

She showed Kyle her book. It was
The Eleventh Hour: A Curious Mystery
.

“It’s a rhyming picture book about Horace the Elephant’s eleventh birthday party and the search to find out who ran off with all the food. There are hidden messages and cryptic codes all over the pages.”

“Why’s it called
The Eleventh Hour
?”

“The birthday feast was supposed to take place at eleven a.m. But since somebody stole all the food …”

Kyle laughed. “Eleven a.m.”

“What?”

“The eleventh hour! The last possible moment.” Kyle nudged his head up at the Wonder Dome. “How much do you want to bet that at eleven o’clock, on the dot, the clue we need most of all will pop up in the three hundreds section?”

Sierra smiled. “So this new book is a clue about our clue?”

“That’s my guess. Did you eat breakfast?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” said Miguel as he strode into the room. “Today’s the big day. We’re gonna need our energy for the final sprint.”

“He’s right,” said Akimi, climbing down the spiral staircase. “The doors open in less than two hours. Then we only have two more hours to figure everything out.”

“But,” said Kyle to his other teammates, “Sierra just figured out when we’ll get the big three hundreds clue.”
He gestured toward the picture book. “At the last possible minute.”

“What?” said Akimi. “Eleven-fifty-nine?”

“Close. Eleven o’clock.”

“Awesome,” said Miguel. “It must be a very good clue.”

Kyle and his team went into the café, where they found Haley Daley seated at a table, eating half a grapefruit and staring blankly through the glass walls into the rotunda.

“Hey, Haley,” said Kyle. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad. You?”

“Good. Win or lose, we’re having a blast.”

“We’re the fun bunch,” said Akimi.

“You guys really get along, huh?”

“Oh, yes,” said Sierra. “I haven’t had this much fun since I was six.”

“Seriously?”

“What’s the matter, Haley?” said Akimi. “Life not so good on Team Charles?”

“It’s okay, I guess. I mean, we’ve pulled together some good clues and all.…”

“Well,” said Miguel, “if you ever want to switch sides, we’re always looking for new members.”

“Can I do that? Just switch sides? Even though I know everything about what Team Charles did all day yesterday?”

“I think so,” said Kyle. “I mean, there was nothing in the rules about teams.”

“Huh,” said Haley. “And Andrew’s teamed up with you guys, too?”

“No,” said Kyle.

Haley nodded toward the wall of windows behind Kyle. “Then why’d he just swipe his library card and go into your meeting room?”

Zipping across the slick marble floor, Kyle and his team, trailed by Haley, practically slid into Community Meeting Room B.

Where Andrew Peckleman stood with a notepad jotting down everything that was written on the whiteboard walls.

“Hey!” shouted Akimi. “That’s cheating!”

Andrew spun around.

His eyes were the size of tennis balls behind his goggle glasses.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he sputtered. “You guys left the door open!”

“No we did not,” said Kyle extremely calmly, especially considering how much he wanted to throttle Peckleman. “It locks automatically; I checked.”

“And I double-checked the door before we went to bed,” said Miguel.

Kyle was surprised to hear it. “You did?”

“You bet, bro. It’s what teammates do.”

They knocked knuckles.

“Well, you don’t have anything but a stupid list of stupid books and stupid authors and a stupid Bible verse.…”

“A verse which,” boomed Mr. Lemoncello, whose face had just appeared on the video-screen wall, “you would do well to memorize, Mr. Peckleman. ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ ”

Mr. Lemoncello was dressed in a curled white wig and a long black robe. He looked like a judge in England. He slammed down a rubber gavel on his desk. It made a noise like a whoopee cushion.

“Will everyone kindly join me in the Rotunda Reading Room? At once.”

Everybody shuffled out of the meeting room and into the rotunda. They were shocked to see that Mr. Lemoncello himself was seated behind the librarian’s desk at the center of the circular room. This was no hologram. This was the real deal.

Charles, all smiles, made a grand entrance, slowly descending one of the spiral staircases.

“Good morning, everybody,” he called out cheerfully. “What’s all the excitement? Did I miss something?”

“Just your man Andrew trying to cheat,” said Miguel.

“What? Oh, good morning, Mr. Lemoncello. I didn’t expect to find you here, inside the library. Isn’t today your birthday, sir?”

“Yes, Charles. And there’s no place I’d rather be on my
big day than inside a library, surrounded by books. Unless, of course, I could be on a bridge to Terabithia.”

“Well, sir, I must say, you’re certainly looking fit and trim. Have you been working out?”

“No, Charles, today I will be working
in
.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Today I will be working here, inside the library, supervising the final hours of this competition.”

“Oh, I don’t think it will take
hours
, sir,” said Charles. “Not to brag, but I suspect some of us will be going home very soon.”

“You are correct. For instance, Mr. Peckleman. He will be leaving right now.”

“What?” whined Peckleman. “Why?”

“Because you cheated. You tried to steal the other team’s hard-earned information.”

Peckleman’s eyes darted back and forth. “It wasn’t my fault. It was Charles’s idea.” He whipped up his arm and waggled his finger. “Charles told me to do it. He
made
me do it!”

“Mr. Peckleman, please approach the bench, which, in this instance, is actually a desk. Let me see the library card you used to gain access to Community Meeting Room B.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Andrew handed it over.

“Is your name Sierra Russell?”

“No, sir,” Andrew said to his shoes.

“He stole my card?” said Sierra. She opened her latest book and pulled out the library card bookmark.

“Whose card do you have, Sierra?” asked Charles.

“Andrew Peckleman’s.”

“Aha,” said Charles. “He pulled the old switcheroo, eh?”

“Because you told me to!” said Peckleman.

“Really?” Charles said, sniggering. “How dare you make such a scandalous accusation? Do you have any proof?”

“I don’t need any stupid proof. You bullied me into stealing Sierra’s card!”

Mr. Lemoncello banged his gavel again. “And thus ends the story of Andrew and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Mrs. Bunny?”

A hologram of the old lady bunny from
Goodnight Moon
hopped on top of the librarian’s desk.

“Goodnight, Andrew,” said the bunny. “Your time with us is all through.”

Clarence and Clement, the security guards, appeared and escorted Peckleman out of the building.