فصل پنجم

chapter-5

Friday night, Kyle’s mother drove him to Mr. Lemoncello’s home for the trustees meeting.

“I bet his house is amazing inside,” said Kyle.

After the Library Olympics ended, Mr. Lemoncello had converted the main building of the Blue Jay Extended Stay Lodge, which had been Olympia Village, into a fully renovated mansion (adding a forty-foot-tall glass ceiling over the whole thing so he could see the stars at night). He kept the motel’s outlying guest chalets so out-of-town trustees and their parents would always have a nice place to stay when they came to Alexandriaville for official meetings and events.

The first thing Kyle noticed when his mom pulled in was the clusters of sandbagged balloons lining the driveway.

“Balloons!” said Kyle. “I hoped there’d be balloons.”

The next thing he noticed was the line of parked bookmobiles.

“I guess they picked up the out-of-towners at the airport,” said Kyle.

Kyle and his mom hurried to the front door, where instead of a doorbell or knocker there was a shiny brass plaque engraved with these words: “To enter, look in the mirror and say ‘emases nepo.’ ” “The plaque must be the mirror,” said Kyle’s mom, because it was shiny enough for her to see her reflection in it.

“Emases nepo!” she said loudly.

Nothing happened.

“Wait a second,” said Kyle. “It’s a puzzle. If you flip the letters, like a mirror would, and read them backward, it says ‘open sesame’!” The instant Kyle spoke the words, the doorknob twisted and the door glided open.

Mr. Lemoncello stood on the other side.

“Welcome!” he said. He was dressed like a daredevil in bright yellow socks, a yellow flight suit, and a lemon-spangled crash helmet. “Be careful crossing the carpet in the living room, Mrs. Keeley. It’s a little springy.” “I know. Kyle told me.”

“Did he tell you about the bathroom?”

“No.”

“It’s a bouncy house. Makes using it that much more fun! So be sure to hang on to your toilet paper!” Kyle and his mom made their way into the living room and bounded across the carpet.

“Hey, everybody—look at me!” cried Angus Harper, a kid from Texas, who’d been on the Southwest team in the Olympics. He was bouncing off the trampoline floor and leaping for the ceiling so he could try to grab one of the pairs of banana shoes dangling off the upside-down flamingo chandelier.

“Excuse me, I need something in the kitchen,” said Mr. Lemoncello, sliding his feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, which were fashioned after the fluffy frazzled birds from his video game sensation Rampaging Robin Rage.

He clicked his heels together three times and said, “To the kitchen, please!” Four pairs of propellers twirled at the tips and heels of the slippers. Five seconds later Mr. Lemoncello rose off the floor and drifted across the room. He ducked his head under a doorjamb and disappeared.

“I have to see his kitchen!” exclaimed Kyle’s mom.

“I have to have those drone slippers!” said Kyle.

They both hurried as best they could across the wobbly living room floor and into the kitchen, where they saw Mr. Lemoncello float up to retrieve a punch bowl from the highest shelf in the thirty-foot-tall pantry.

“It’s just like the hover ladders in the library,” said Kyle’s mom.

“Except drone slippers are even better!” said Kyle.

“I want a pair,” said Miguel, who was already in the kitchen with his dad, both of them gawking at all the food being prepared by a team of chefs.

The kitchen’s center island (which was shaped like Sicily) was piled high with pizza, hamburgers, hot dogs, french fries, chicken fingers, macaroni and cheese, and Hot Pockets. There was also a vegetable platter, plus a hollowed-out watermelon filled with all sorts of fruit nibbles.

Mr. Lemoncello led the team of chefs and servers into the dining room, where the legs of the massive banquet table were carved to look like the legs on a Dr. Seuss creature. Kyle’s mom sat at the separate grown-ups’ table (it was shorter than the one for the board of trustees). Kyle found a seat next to a girl he vaguely remembered from the Olympics. Katherine Something.

“I’m Kyle Keeley,” he said, extending his hand. “I live here in Ohio.” The girl shook his hand and smiled. “I’m Katherine Kelly. From Kansas City, Missouri.” “Funny,” said Kyle. “Our last names are kind of similar—so we have the same initials: KK!” The girl laughed. “Yeah. We have something else in common, too.” “What?”

“Famous game makers live in our hometowns. You have Mr. Lemoncello; I have the Krinkle brothers!”