The Island of Dr. Libris (4 page)

Since the Hercules book was the only one in the case propped open and displayed on a book stand, Billy grabbed it first.

Inside the red, dark-as-ketchup cover, Billy found a bookplate:

“Ex Libris X. Libris” made him smile.

His dad, who liked to play with words and had two unfinished novels and a screenplay tucked away in his desk, once told Billy that “ex libris” is Latin for “from the books of.”

Dr. Libris, whose first name was Xiang, was also X. Libris.

Maybe that was why the professor collected books—just so he could have a funny-looking bookplate.

Billy sat down in the chair and skimmed a few pages of
The Labors of Hercules.

He read about how Hercules was the strongest man in the world because he was the son of the immortal Greek god Zeus. And how his uncle, Poseidon, the god of the sea, gave Hercules’s ship a poke with his trident spear to send the muscleman off on his latest adventure.

“Where’s the rock dude?” Billy flipped forward past a chunk of pages.

Found him.

Hercules was in a garden where he’d just plucked three magic apples. On his way out, the big rock dude, whose name was Antaeus, challenged him to a wrestling match.

Awesome superpower
, thought Billy. He was totally getting into the story. In his mind, he could see the rocky guy growing every time Hercules knocked him down.

He could hear Antaeus roar, “You feeble fool!”

Antaeus’s voice was so loud in Billy’s head it made the glass in the bookcase rattle.

Wait a second.

That was impossible.

Billy looked around the room.

Nothing happened.

And then, from somewhere
outside
, far off in the distance, Billy heard Antaeus again.

“Beware, Hercules! For I shall surely crush you!”

Billy slammed the book shut.

He took a deep breath. Tried to relax.

Okay
, he thought when all he could hear was his own breathing,
it was all in your head.

He carefully creaked the book open.

“Submit to me, Hercules!”

The glass rattled again.

Billy jumped out of the reading chair. The book fell to the floor. He ran into the living room.

“Mom? Mom!”

His mother came to the landing at the top of the stairs.

“Billy? What’s wrong?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“A big guy. Yelling.”

“I didn’t hear anything. Was it one of the neighbors?”

Okay
, thought Billy.
This is crazy.

And if he told his mother that he had heard a chunky wrestler named Antaeus shouting at Hercules outside the garden of Hesperides, she’d think
he
was crazy, too!

“Uh, yeah. A neighbor. I think it might’ve been the kid who lives in the house next door. I met him earlier.”

Suddenly, Antaeus started shouting again.

“Surrender, Hercules, you weakling! You are defeated!”

His mother didn’t budge. She didn’t hear a thing.

Billy, of course, did. That was why his eyeballs were practically popping out of his skull.

“Billy? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll go outside. Grab some fresh air.”

“Good idea. And tomorrow you really need to eat something besides microwaved cheeseburgers and peanut butter crackers.”

Billy shot her a double thumbs-up.

His mother shook her head and went back to her books.

Billy waited until she was gone. Then he bolted for the back door.

Because that was where the voices seemed to be coming from.

He noticed that the porch had the same kind of stamped-tin ceiling as Dr. Libris’s study. The moon was shining bright, streaking the lake with ripples of silver.

Billy stared at the island in the distance.

All he heard were crickets. Or cicadas. Some kind of
bug rubbing its legs together. Billy was a city kid and he really didn’t—

“Cursed Antaeus!”

Okay. Hercules was still alive. Now
he
was shouting, too.

“You grow bigger and uglier every time I hurl you to the ground!”

This isn’t really happening
, Billy told himself.

But then he saw something that changed his mind.

He was still staring at the spiky silhouette of Dr. Libris’s island when, all of a sudden, one of the craggy rocks lining the shore started to move.

Started to walk.

Actually, it wasn’t a rock.

When it crossed a moonlit path, Billy could clearly see the shadowy shape of a humongous man with a lumpy head and shoulders.

Antaeus.

Billy raced back to Dr. Libris’s study, picked up the open Hercules book off the floor, and read what was written on the next page.

The cabin floor shook.

Apparently, out on the island, Hercules had kicked Antaeus and knocked him to the ground.

Billy closed the book.

The floor stopped quaking.

No one was shouting.

All Billy heard was his own rapid breathing.

He put the book back on its little easel in the bookcase.

He shut the double glass doors.

Gave the key a quick twist.

He tugged on the handles to make sure the bookcase was locked up tight.

The room remained silent.

Walking on tiptoe, Billy made his way back to the reading chair, stepped up on the cushion, and carefully re-hid the bookcase key inside the cuckoo clock.

And then he waited.

For five minutes.

Ten.

No more taunts from Antaeus or brave replies from Hercules.

No more earth-jolting body slams.

Billy ventured out to the back porch. The island was still there, of course, but no hulking wrestlers were slinking along its shoreline.

Billy couldn’t figure out what the heck was going on.

It was one more riddle for him to unravel.

After a night of tossing and turning, fighting a lumpy pillow, and dreaming about a giant iPhone doing battle with a tub of Greek yogurt, Billy was up with the sun.

He was eager to see if he could “call up” anybody else on the island.

Making himself a bowl of cereal with a sliced banana, Billy listened for strange sounds or voices.

There weren’t any.

No grunts or groans. No Hercules or Antaeus.

Because their book isn’t open.

“You’re up early,” his mother said, coming down the stairs in her flannel bathrobe.

“Yeah,” said Billy. “Wanted to get a jump on the day.”

“Great. Are you running next door to talk to that boy you met yesterday?”

“No, I thought I’d do some more reading.”

“You liked those books in Dr. Libris’s study?”

Billy nodded. “Last night, I looked at one about Hercules. This morning, I thought I’d try something else.”

“Great,” said his mom. “See if he has
Robin Hood.
When I was your age,
Robin Hood
was my absolute favorite. I always imagined I was Maid Marian.”

“A cleaning lady?”

His mom laughed. “No, Billy. Maid Marian is Robin Hood’s girlfriend. And she was just as tough as he was.”

“Cool.”

“Have fun. While you’re off with Robin and Marian, I’ll be exploring the theoretical foundation for the existence of alternate realities—like in that M. C. Escher print with the sideways staircases.”

It sounded like his mother would be lost in her own world all day, doing her math homework.

That was good. It meant Billy would be free to continue
his
research project.

Robin Hood
was on the top shelf of Dr. Libris’s bookcase.

Billy went to the cuckoo clock, took out the key, and slipped it back into the Cowardly Lion keyhole.

“This one’s for you, Mom.” He slid the emerald-green
Robin Hood
off the shelf.

He sat down in the reading chair and flipped through
the pages. He stopped at an illustration of Robin Hood and Maid Marian dueling with an evil bounty hunter who’d been hired by the even more evil Sheriff of Nottingham.

Ouch
, thought Billy.
That’ll hurt.

Robin Hood and Maid Marian whipped off their monk costumes. Robin was wearing a green tunic and tights. Marian was dressed in the same thing, only her costume was brown.

And Billy jumped out of his seat.

Because off in the distance, he heard the clang of steel on steel.

It was happening again.

Billy glanced back at the book.

Robin Hood, Maid Marian, and the bounty hunter had launched into a three-way sword fight. And once again, it sounded like it was taking place on the island.

Carrying
Robin Hood
, Billy hurried to the back porch and read another sentence.

Billy could hear the clinking blades. The tromping of booted feet. Lots of grunting and groaning.

Then Billy heard some dialogue that couldn’t be in the
Robin Hood
book.