فصل پانزدهم

chapter-15

“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.”