Mr. Lemoncello's Great Library Race

by Chris Grabenstein

  Kyle heard the rip of Velcro as Mr. Lemoncello pulled the phone off his shoulder.

  “Hello, Yanina! How is your mother’s birthday party progressing? Have you cut the pickled fish pie yet?”

  Mr. Lemoncello drifted off into the Book Nook Café to continue his conversation with the world-famous librarian Dr. Yanina Zinchenko. Ms. Waintraub addressed the winners and losers under the dome.

  “Those of you who lost…”

  Kyle wondered why she had to look directly at him when she said that.

  “…will find airplane tickets and travel vouchers waiting for you in your rooms at Mr. Lemoncello’s guest chalets. Unless, like Mr. Keeley and Miss Hughes, you live here in Ohio. Then you will just go home with lovely parting gifts.”

  “I’m sorry I lost this for us,” Kyle whispered to Akimi.

  “You’re forgiven,” she said. “Barely.”

  Finally, they both smiled.

  “We’ll get ’em next time,” said Akimi.

  And before Kyle could say, “If there is a next time,” Mr. Lemoncello flew through the Book Nook Café door.

  “Stop the presses, hold your horses, and hang on to your hats! Not all at the same time, of course. That might prove dangerous. You’d need both hands to hang on to those ponies, so—WHOOSH!—there goes your hat. I’ve just received an urgent phone call from our head librarian, who, as you know, is visiting family in Russia this week. She insists that a sixth name be added to the list of new exhibits. Not only that, but her mother concurs. In fact, when Dr. Zinchenko’s mother was blowing out the candles on her pickled fish pie, she made a wish and told everybody, because apparently in Russia that isn’t against the rules.”

  He caught his breath.

  “Anyway, at the insistence of all the Zinchenkos, foreign and domestic, we will add a sixth name to the exhibit list. That means we need six teams of research assistants, not just five. Kyle and Akimi? Congratulicitations. You were the sixth team to correctly identify your famous foursome. Thereforesome, since we are now doing six exhibits, you two will also be moving on to the next round!”

  YESSSSSSSS!

  Kyle had just pulled a “Free Spin” card. Thanks to Dr. Zinchenko’s mother, he was no longer eliminated. He was moving on to the big show.

  He hugged Akimi, but only for a second. Then he slapped her a high five because that’s what best friends do.

  “Who, may I ask,” said Ms. Waintraub, “is our sixth famous person?”

  “Me! Luigi L. Lemoncello! I told Dr. Zinchenko, ‘There’s already enough Lemoncello in the Lemoncello Library,’ but she insisted. Said we needed an interactive hologram of me. One that patrons could pepper with pertinent questions.”

  “That is so awesome!” cried Kyle. “In round two, I definitely want to research you!”

  “Dr. Zinchenko thought you would,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “And you might get that chance. Especially since you will be partnered with…let’s see…”

  Mr. Lemoncello scanned the faces of the eleven other players who would be moving on.

  “Ah, yes. Perfect. Abia Sulayman!”

  “But I was kind of hoping I could keep working with Akimi….”

  “You’ve already done that. I like to mix things up. Because the same old, same old isn’t just the same and old—it’s also boring.”

  “B-b-but…”

  Mr. Lemoncello cut off Kyle’s stammering with an arched eyebrow. “Dr. Zinchenko and I were both hoping you’d want to continue playing, Kyle. However, if you’d rather sit this game out…”

  Kyle looked at Akimi.

  She shrugged. “It’s cool by me.”

  He looked at Abia.

  She didn’t look so happy.

  Kyle turned to Mr. Lemoncello. “I’m in, sir!”

  “Wondermous!”

  On Saturday morning, Kyle and his new partner, Abia Sulayman, met in the Book Nook Café.

  Kyle was dressed according to the instructions texted to all twelve data dashers: “Wear comfortable clothes. Something to run around in. Perhaps a tracksuit but without the track tie.”

  He’d chosen sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and running shoes.

  Abia, however, was wearing a peasant-style blouse over a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and a hijab—the veil covering her head and chest. It was decorated with tiny roses and completely hid all of her hair.

  “Um, good morning,” said Kyle. “I, uh, like your scarf.”

  “It is called a hijab, Kyle Keeley. Many Muslim girls wear one.”

  “I know. I mean I’ve seen some at school. I sometimes wear a baseball cap….”

  Abia glared at him. “I am not pleased that Mr. Lemoncello has paired us together, Kyle Keeley.”

  “Because I beat you in that flying dinosaur race during the Olympics?”

  Now she rolled her eyes. “Pterodactyls were not dinosaurs.”

  “Well, they kind of looked dinosaurish….”

  “This is your problem, Kyle Keeley. You make assumptions. You go for the easy answer. These skills will not serve us well in a research-based competition.”

  She went back to eating her yogurt.

  Kyle dunked a jelly doughnut into his hot cocoa as his eyes drifted around the room to study the competition.

  Akimi was teamed up with Angus Harper, the scrappy kid from Texas. They were yukking it up over bowls of cereal. Angus was hanging a spoon off his nose and making Akimi laugh. That used to be Kyle’s job.

  Sierra Russell was with Jamal Davis, a bright kid from Seattle who wore thick black-rimmed glasses. They kept passing books back and forth across their table, reading favorite passages and completely ignoring their chocolate croissants.

  Elliott Schilpp, the skinny boy from Maryland who loved to eat, and Katherine Kelly, the girl from Missouri, were NUM-NUM-NUMing their way through a tray stacked with doughnuts, bagels, muffins, croissants, and hard-boiled eggs.

  Miguel and Pranav Pillai, who’d been on the West Coast team at the Library Olympics, were swapping library stories.

  “When I was young,” said Miguel, “I once mis-shelved a human anatomy book in the insects section. I thought it was a book about ants!”

  The two laughed so hard, chocolate milk came squirting out of their noses.

  Andrew Peckleman, who whined a lot but definitely knew his way around a library, was teamed up with Diane Capriola, from Georgia, who could ace any riddle you tossed her way.

  “I wish you were Sierra Russell,” Andrew complained, sliding his glasses into place.

  “And I wish you’d stop doing that slidey thing with your glasses,” said Diane.

  Kyle’s eyes drifted back to Abia.

  She was scowling at him and shaking her head.

  “This is so unfair,” she sighed. “How did I end up with you?”

  Finally they had something in common. Because Kyle was thinking the exact same thing.

  “Will all fact finders kindly report to the Rotunda Reading Room?” purred a soothing female voice from the ceiling speakers. “Thank you.”

  Everyone grabbed their final bites, placed their trash in the appropriate recycling bins, and hurried out the door.

  Mr. Lemoncello, flanked by the security guards Clarence and Clement, stood in the center of the rotunda, waiting. He was wearing long black robes with a white pilgrim collar and a fake white beard. He held a brass telescope and looked like an astronomer from the Middle Ages. Overhead, the Wonder Dome was filled with spinning planets and the sparkling constellations of the night sky.

  “Good morning!” said Mr. Lemoncello. “Why am I dressed like Galileo Galilei, whose last name is almost the same as his first and, like Old MacDonald, has a lot of e-i, e-i, o action going on? Because as an icebreaker to help you new teammates learn to work together, we will play a quick picture puzzler. The answer is a famous quote by Galileo. When you know the answer, rush up to Ms. Waintraub and tell it to her. The order of your answers will determine the order of your departures in our amazingly awesome research rac
e.”

  Mr. Lemoncello clapped his hands. The research librarian materialized behind her desk, and the Wonder Dome’s stars and planets dissolved into a giant, complex rebus puzzle:

  Kyle scanned the dome. Worked the puzzle in his head.

  “I’ve got this,” he announced.

  “Are you certain?” said Abia. “Perhaps there will be a penalty for a wrong guess.”

  “Mr. Lemoncello didn’t mention one,” said Kyle.

  “That doesn’t matter. There are always consequences for faulty logic….”

  “My logic isn’t faulty. It’s a rebus. I play Mr. Lemoncello’s Amazingly Baffling Picture Puzzlers all the time! Come on.”

  “But…”

  Kyle rolled his eyes, grabbed a stubby pencil and a slip of paper, and wrote down his answer.

  “Here,” he said, showing her what he had written. “Check my work.”

  “ALL TRUTHS ARE EASY TO UNDERSTAND ONCE THEY ARE DISCOVERED; THE POINT IS TO DISCOVER THEM.”

  Abia studied the images projected on the ceiling. Reread Kyle’s answer. Nodded grudgingly.

  “That seems to be correct. Well done, Kyle Keeley.”

  Okay, the ice wasn’t completely broken. But at least it was starting to defrost.

  “Greatastic job, everyone!” cried Mr. Lemoncello after the five other teams had given the correct answer to Ms. Waintraub maybe two minutes after Kyle and Abia had given theirs.

  “We beat the best of the best!” Kyle said to Abia.

  “Indeed,” said Abia. “But I suspect the rest of this game will not be so easy.”

  “Easy?” said Kyle. “I thought that rebus was pretty complicated….”

  “It was a childish game, Kyle Keeley. This is why you excelled at it.”

  Oh-kay, thought Kyle. So much for a major thaw.

  Mr. Lemoncello whipped off his fake Galileo beard and ripped open his robes to reveal a bright yellow tracksuit decorated with tiny brown cellos.

  “Now that we’re all warmed up—because, trust me, that robe and Santa beard will make anybody sweat—it’s time to reveal the six names for new Lemoncello-style exhibits here at the library. The historical figures have been chosen with tremendous care, even though they will appear, at first blush, to be a random assortment of greatness or a great assortment of randomness. Voice in the ceiling? Tell us who we’ll be investigating.”

  “You mean ‘whom,’ ” said the ceiling lady.

  “Perhaps I do,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “I’m never one hundred percent certain what I mean. Drumroll, please.”

  Drums rolled, trumpets blared, and every time a cymbal crashed, the ceiling lady announced a new name. When she did, their picture drifted across the Wonder Dome:

  “Thomas Alva Edison! Michael Jordan! Emily Dickinson! Abraham Lincoln! Orville and Wilbur Wright! And our last-minute addition, courtesy of Dr. Zinchenko: Luigi Libretto Lemoncello!”

  “What do they all have in common?” mused Abia.

  “It doesn’t really matter,” said Kyle. “That’s not part of the game….”

  “Still, I am curious. Aren’t you?”

  “No. Not unless it helps us win.”

  “Voice in the ceiling?” cried Mr. Lemoncello. “Will you kindly read the rules because, come on—what’s a game without rules except a crazy collection of cardboard, dice, and plastic playing pieces?”

  “This race,” cooed the smooth voice, “is intended solely for the private use of Mr. Lemoncello as an aid to help him find whom amongst you are the most fabulous fact finders. The race will not be open to the public or the press, but the Grand Gala next Saturday night will be open to all. Teams will be eliminated during each leg of the race. The winning team members, the last researchers standing, will both go on an extensive North American tour with the exhibits and take home the very first copies of Mr. Lemoncello’s Fantabulous Floating Emoji hologram game!”

  “Coming soon to a toy store near you!” added Mr. Lemoncello.

  “The winning team will also be honored at the Grand Gala one week from tonight, when our new exhibits will first go on display!”

  “Will there be cake?” asked Kyle.

  “And ice cream,” said the ceiling.

  “Booyah!”

  “Please approach the reference desk,” said Ms. Waintraub, “to receive your official lPads.”

  “They’re like iPads, but without the dot,” added Mr. Lemoncello.

  “Actually,” stated the reference librarian, “they are tablet computers that will allow you to remotely search the Internet as well as the library’s complete catalog and artifacts inventory.”

  “Now then,” said Mr. Lemoncello, “let’s all go to the lobby!” He shuffled sideways, raising a make-believe top hat and cane, while singing a song none of the contestants had ever heard before:

  “Let’s all go to the lobby;

  let’s all go to the lobby;

  let’s all go to the lobby

  to watch you guys compete!”

  Once in the lobby, Kyle saw a bright yellow lemon decal plastered to the floor.

  “This lemon will be your starting square as well as your finish square, because I love lemon squares, even though a lemon is actually more of an oval,” declared Mr. Lemoncello.

  The security guards, Clarence and Clement, swung open the heavy, twelve-foot-wide, three-foot-thick circular front door, which came from the old Gold Dome Bank’s vault. It was made of steel-clad concrete and weighed twenty tons.

  With the door open, Kyle could see six Lemoncello Library bookmobiles parked at the curb. There were also six backpacks lined up on the sidewalk—three black bags with a lightbulb graphic silk-screened on the back, and three tomato-red bags with a blocky black “23” trimmed in white.

  “That was Michael Jordan’s number when he played with the Chicago Bulls,” Kyle heard Angus whisper to Akimi.

  “Today three teams will research the renowned inventor Thomas Alva Edison,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “And three teams will investigate the legendary basketball great Michael ‘Air’ Jordan.”

  “So we’re just supposed to race around town and find some random fact about Michael Jordan and Thomas Edison?” whined Andrew Peckleman, who’d never been the biggest fan of Mr. Lemoncello’s games.

  “Heavens, no. In those backpacks you will find a clue as well as snacks and beverages. Solve the clue and it will lead you to more clues. Solve your riddles and puzzles along the way until you find your fascinating factoid. The first two Edison teams and first two Jordan teams to return to the lemon square with the correct information will move on to the second round. Please note: To encourage independent thinking, no two teams will receive the exact same set of clues.”

  Diane Capriola raised her hand because Andrew was nudging her with his elbow. “Andrew wants to know what happens to the other two teams? The ones that come back with the answer last.”

  “I think we’d all like to know,” said Andrew defensively.

  Mr. Lemoncello smiled. “They lose. Because in every race ever run, in order for someone to win, someone else must lose.”

  “Okeydokey,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “Since Abia and Kyle solved the Galileo rebus first, they get to go first. The other five teams will follow at ten-second intervals, based on the order you answered the icebreaker.”

  “Who do you want to grab?” Kyle asked Abia as he shook out his arms and limbered up his legs on the lemon-shaped decal.

  “I have a slight preference for Edison,” said Abia. “And you?”

  “I’m good either way. I’ll grab the Edison backpack and look inside it for a clue. You grab one of the bookmobiles.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they wouldn’t be parked out there if we weren’t going to need them.”

  Abia nodded thoughtfully. “You make an excellent point, Kyle Keeley.”

  “Could you just call me Kyle?”

  “Why?”

  “Never mind.”

  “On your mark,” said Mr. Lem
oncello, “get set, Luigi, Lemon, cello, go!”

  Abia and Kyle raced out the door and down the front steps.

  Kyle grabbed one of the lightbulb backpacks while Abia stuck two fingers into her mouth and whistled a shrill blast at the bookmobile parked at the front of the line. Kyle had forgotten: Abia Sulayman was a big-city girl from Boston. She definitely knew how to hail a ride.

  Kyle unzipped pockets on the book bag until he found a bright yellow envelope. It had to be the clue. He clutched it in one hand and the backpack in the other and hopped into the first bookmobile, which already had its engine running.

  “You ready to roll, kids?” asked the driver, a college-aged girl named Jessica, according to the embroidery on her polo shirt.

  “Not yet,” said Kyle, tearing open the clue envelope.

  “Why not?” asked Abia.

  Kyle fumbled with the cello-shaped greeting card tucked inside the yellow envelope. “Because we won’t know where we’re supposed to go until we solve this riddle.”

  “Hurry, then!” said Abia, peering out the side window. “Akimi Hughes and Angus Harper have also picked up a lightbulb bag. Sierra Russell and Jamal Davis have gone for Michael Jordan. Andrew Peckleman and Diane Capriola are taking Edison, too! And, if I remember correctly, the girl from Georgia is much better at solving riddles than you.”

  Thanks for reminding me, thought Kyle.

  Heart racing, Kyle opened up the card and read the clue.

  * * *

  This place is crowded and dark,

  So you can see stars during the day.

  I rhyme with “in a park.”

  For popcorn and pop you’ll pay.

  * * *

  “What is this ‘in a park’?” asked Abia.

  “Nothing. They’re just nonsense words for the rhyme.”

  “So how are we to make sense of this if we have nothing but nonsense to work with?”

  “It’s a riddle,” said Kyle.

  “Oh,” said the driver. “Is this Mr. Lemoncello’s big new game for the holiday season? I heard he had something revolutionary coming down the pike.”