فصل بیست و دوم

chapter-22

Up bright and early the next day, Kyle hurried to the library for the second leg of the amazing research race.

He was happy to be moving on to the next round and felt bad for the teams that didn’t make it through. It could’ve been him—especially if he hadn’t listened to Abia.

Four bookmobiles were lined up at the curb near the library’s front entrance. Four fresh backpacks waited on the sidewalk.

Two of them had the silhouette of a pretty cool-looking biplane. Two had “Dwell in Possibility” written in frilly script letters.

“That’s for Emily Dickinson, right?” he whispered to Abia.

“Correct. She was the poet who wrote ‘I dwell in Possibility, A fairer House than Prose, More numerous of Windows, Superior—for Doors—’ ” “So, she was also into architecture?”

Abia looked at Kyle. “Perhaps we should go for the biplane and the Wright brothers?” “Definitely,” said Kyle.

The three other teams were also eyeballing the backpacks and whispering to each other, plotting their strategies.

The red door leading from the lobby into the control room swung open, and out stepped Mr. Lemoncello. He was dressed like a big bird. Not the Big Bird—some kind of Dr. Seuss creature with gangly legs, an odd beak, and two weird tail feathers.

“An eggceptionally good morning to you all! Today’s competition will be all about flying and poetic flights of fancy as you research the Wright brothers and Emily Dickinson. To determine the order of your book bag grab, kindly identify which poetic bird I am currently portraying.” He preened and yawned and looked at his watch like he was bored.

Seven of the contestants looked like they were confused.

But not Kyle. Dr. Seuss was his favorite. He loved when his parents used to read Seuss stories to him at bedtime.

“If you look at your lPads,” Mr. Lemoncello continued, “you will notice that a Who Am I? game has just popped out.” Kyle heard eight DA-DING!s.

“When you know the answer, enter it! On your mark, get set, Lemon, cello, go!” Everyone stood in the lobby, staring blankly at their tablet computers.

“Do you know this?” asked Abia.

“I think so. The yawn was a hint….”

“Then type it in!”

Kyle started tapping the glass pad.

Mr. Lemoncello started squawking poetry. “You’ve nothing to do, and I do need a rest.” Katherine Kelly grabbed the lPad from Elliott Schilpp. Kyle could tell: She knew the answer, too!

Mr. Lemoncello completed the stanza: “Would you like to sit on the egg in my nest?” Kyle hit send. Miguel and Akimi, who’d finally figured out what Seuss book Mr. Lemoncello was quoting, typed in answers for their teams.

Mr. Lemoncello’s sleek black wristwatch (which looked bizarre on his feathered arm) blared like a tiny tin trumpet. He held it to his ear.

“What? Hello? Who are you?”

He squinted and read what must’ve been written in very small Whoville-sized type on the watch’s screen.

“Aha! You’ve all guessed correctly. I am, indeed, currently costumed as Mayzie, the lazy bird from Horton Hatches the Egg. The team of Kyle and Abia came in first, Katherine and Elliott second, Miguel and Pranav third, Akimi and Angus fourth—but only by an eggstraordinarily slim margin. You will now, once again, depart in ten-second intervals. Good luck. And happy hunting!” Mr. Lemoncello raised his arm. The tiny Whoville trumpet in his wristwatch blared a bugle call.

“Go!” he shouted.

Kyle and Abia dashed out the door, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk, where they grabbed one of the Wright brothers backpacks.

“First bookmobile!” shouted Abia. “Go!”

They jumped into the back of the vehicle.

“Where to?” asked the driver, whose name was Mad Dog. Seriously. It was stitched over his pocket.

“Hang on,” said Kyle.

He unzipped the front pocket of the backpack.

“We’ve got another riddle,” he reported.

“What does it say?” asked Abia.

Kyle read the yellow note card:

To win this round, you might need to be

what a North Carolina license plate tells you to be.

“Quick,” said Abia. “Now is the time for Googling. What is the slogan on a North Carolina license plate?” They both tapped in the search words “North Carolina license plate slogan.” “First in flight!” said Abia, who’d done an image search. “It depicts the Wright brothers’ biplane.” “So to win, we need to be the ‘first in flight.’ ” “Where is the nearest airport?”

“Mad Dog!” shouted Kyle. “Take us to Wood County Regional!” “Do you have your permission slips?” asked the driver.

“Yes!” screamed Kyle and Abia. “Hurry!”

Mad Dog slammed the bookmobile into gear and grabbed a radio microphone with a coiled cord.

“This is Bookmobile One,” he said to whoever was on the receiving end. “We are on the way to the airport.” “Very good,” said Mr. Lemoncello through the bookmobile’s speakers. “Kindly inform your passengers that there are two flights departing to North Carolina at this hour. Whoever finds it first gets to fly in my corporate jet.” “Booyah!” said Kyle.

“Katherine and Elliott are right behind us,” reported Abia. “They must’ve figured out the riddle, too.” “The second vehicle to the airstrip,” continued Mr. Lemoncello, “will have a somewhat slower flight in my recently retired prop plane.” “Punch it, sir!” Abia shouted at the driver.

The bookmobile lurched forward.

Kyle was glad they’d grabbed the first bookmobile at the curb.

When you were in a mad dash to the airport, it was always good to have a driver named Mad Dog!