فصل پنجم

chapter-5

Eating lunch in the cafeteria, Kyle stared at his wilted fish sticks, wishing he could pull a magic Take Another Turn card out of thin air.

“I blew it,” he mumbled.

“Yep,” Akimi agreed. “You basically did.” “Can you imagine how awesome that new library’s gonna be if Mr. Lemoncello and his Imagination Factory guys had anything to do with it?” “Yes. I can. And I’m kind of hoping I get to see it, too. After all, I wrote a real essay, not one sentence about balloons.” “Thanks. Rub it in.”

Akimi eased up a little. “Hey, Kyle—when you’re playing a game like Sorry and you get bumped back three spaces, do you usually quit?” “No. If I get bumped, I play harder because I know I need to find a way to get back those three spaces and pull ahead of the pack.” “Hey, guys!” Miguel Fernandez carried his tray over to join Kyle and Akimi.

He was being followed by a kid with spiky hair and glasses the size of welders’ goggles.

“You two know Andrew Peckleman, right?”

“Hey,” said Kyle and Akimi.

“Hello.”

“Andrew is one of my top library aides,” said Miguel.

“Cool,” said Akimi.

“Mrs. Yunghans, the librarian, just confirmed that Mr. Lemoncello is the top-secret benefactor who donated all the money to build the new public library. Five hundred million dollars!” “She heard it on NPR,” added Peckleman, who more or less talked through his nose. “So we did some primary source research on Mr. Lemoncello and his connection to Alexandriaville.” “What’d you find out?” asked Kyle.

“First off,” said Miguel, “he was born here.” “He had nine brothers and sisters,” added Andrew.

“All of ‘em crammed into a tiny apartment with only one bathroom over in Little Italy,” said Miguel.

“And,” said Peckleman, sounding like he wanted to one-up Miguel, “he loved the old public library down on Market Street. He used to go there when he was a kid and needed a quiet place to think and doodle his ideas.” “And get this,” said Miguel eagerly. “Mrs. Tobin, the librarian back then, took an interest in little Luigi, even though he was just, you know, a kid like us. She kept the library open late some nights and let him borrow junk from her desk or her purse—thimbles and thumbtacks and glue bottles, even red Barbie doll boots—stuff he used for game pieces so he could map out his first ideas on a library table. Then …” Andrew jumped in. “Then Mrs. Tobin took Mr. Lemoncello’s sketch for Family Frenzy home to her husband, who ran a print shop. They signed some papers, created a company, and within a couple of years they were all millionaires.” But Miguel had the last word: “Now, of course, Mr. Lemoncello is a bazillionaire!” “What are you four nerds so excited about?” said Haley Daley as she waltzed past with the gaggle of popular girls in her royal court. Haley was the princess of the seventh grade. Blond hair, blue eyes, blazingly bright smile. She looked like a walking toothpaste commercial.

“We’re pumped about Mr. Lemoncello!” said Miguel.

“And the new library!” said Andrew.

“And,” said Kyle melodramatically, “just seeing you, Haley.” “You are so immature. Come on, girls.” Haley and her friends flounced away to the “cool kids” table.

“Check it out,” said Akimi, gesturing toward the cafeteria’s food line, where Charles Chiltington was balancing two trays: his own and one for Mrs. Cameron.

“I’m so glad you have lunchroom duty today, Mrs. Cameron,” Kyle heard Chiltington say. “If you don’t mind, I have a few questions about how conventions within genres—such as poetry, drama, or essays—can affect meaning.” “Well, Charles, I’d be happy to discuss that with you.” “Thank you, Mrs. Cameron. And, may I say, that sweater certainly complements your eye color.” “What a suck-up,” mumbled Akimi. “Chiltington’s trying to use his weaselly charm to make sure Mrs. C sends his essay up the line to Mr. Lemoncello.” “Don’t worry,” said Kyle. “Mrs. Cameron isn’t the final judge. Mr. Lemoncello is. And since he’s a genius, he will definitely pick the essays you guys all wrote.” “Undoubtedly,” said Peckleman.

“Thanks, Kyle,” said Miguel.

“I just wish you could win with us,” said Akimi.

“Well, maybe I can. Like you said, this is just a Move Back Three Spaces card. A Take a Walk on the Boardwalk when someone else owns it. It’s a chute in Chutes and Ladders. A detour to the Molasses Swamp in Candy Land!” “Yo, Kyle,” said Miguel. “Exactly how many board games have you played?” “Enough to know that you don’t ever quit until somebody else actually wins.” He picked up his lunch and headed for the dirty-tray window.

Akimi called after him. “Where are you going?” “I have the rest of lunch and all of study hall to work on a new essay.” “But Mrs. Cameron won’t take it.”

“Maybe. But I’ve got to roll the dice one more time. Maybe I’ll get lucky.” “I hope so,” said Akimi.

“Me too! See you guys on the bus!”