فصل سی

chapter-30

“What did you and Mrs. Chiltington talk about?” Andrew Peckleman asked Marjory Muldauer.

They were sitting together on the patio near the motel’s stone-cold gas-powered fire pit.

“How much we both hate what Mr. Lemoncello’s doing at his so-called library. Do you know what insane game they had us play today? Reading while eating.” Andrew shook his head in disbelief.

“And the food was pizza! Greasy, slimy, cheesy pizza!” “Pizza spillage can cause major damage to books,” said Andrew. “I’ve seen it. Back when I was a library aide at the middle school.” “I complained about the messiness, but Mr. Lemoncello popped in on a video screen to remind us that all the books being used in the read-and-eat contest were paperbacks.” “As if that makes a difference.”

“Exactly. Loopy old Lemoncello said paperback books were meant to be taken to the beach, where they’d have suntan lotion, melting ice cream cones, and sand dribbled all over their pages.” “How ridiculous.”

“I know. But Lemoncello said books did no one any good sealed up tight. He said books need to ‘have their spines cracked, their covers opened, and their pages ruffled for them to come alive.’ ” “The man’s a menace,” said Andrew.

“He’s a lunatic.”

“He needs to be stopped.”

“Don’t worry. We’re working on it.”

“Really? How?”

Marjory studied the nerdy boy in his goggle glasses. Yes, he seemed to be a true library lover, but Marjory couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anybody—not when the future of library science was at stake.

“I can’t say,” she told Andrew. “But don’t be surprised if Mr. Lemoncello leaves town. I understand he’s turned his back on Alexandriaville before.” “Well, he left when he was like eighteen,” said Andrew. “He moved to New York City to start his game company.” “And,” said Marjory, “from what I’ve heard, he never once came back here until he cooked up his crazy scheme to build a new library in the old bank building as a big publicity stunt.” “Where’d you hear that?”

“Mrs. Chiltington.”

“Huh. Mr. Lemoncello told us he built the library to honor the memory of Mrs. Gail Tobin. The librarian who helped him so much when he was our age.” “Ha! You believe that? That’s just the clever spin Mr. Lemoncello’s marketing department put on this scam.” Marjory stood up. “But don’t worry, Andrew. Your public library will soon be a true public library. Mr. Lemoncello will turn it over to a local board of trustees and flee.” “And he won’t be coming back?”

“Highly doubtful.”

“Wow. Thanks. I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Excuse me. I need a 641.2.” “Sure. Enjoy your beverage.”

Marjory marched into the motel lobby, hoping to find a cold bottle of water. But, of course, the only free beverages the Lemoncello Library Olympics people had put on ice in the open coolers were chocolate milk, strawberry milk, and ten different kinds of soda pop, including something called Mr. Lemoncello’s Lemonberry Fizz. All of it junk.

“And a lemon is not a berry, Mr. Lemoncello,” Marjory muttered. “Look it up. Six-three-four-point-three-three-four. Lemons as an orchard crop. That means it’s a fruit!” Suddenly, a voice boomed through a megaphone. “Who would like to play another game?” Mr. Lemoncello. It sounded like he was right outside.

“Will all Library Olympians kindly join me at the swimming pool? It’s time to dive into another game!” “Come on, Marjory,” called Margaret Miles, the Midwest team’s coach, hurrying across the lobby. “We’re only down by one.” “I thought we were only supposed to play two games per day.” Margaret Miles laughed. “You know Mr. Lemoncello. He’s all about keeping things a little unpredictable.” Which is precisely why he shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a library, thought Marjory.

Libraries were all about order, control, precision, and predictability!

And that’s exactly how Mrs. Chiltington and her League of Concerned Library Lovers would run things when they became the board of trustees in charge of what used to be the Lemoncello Library.

To help them succeed (and to earn her scholarship from the Willoughby-Chiltington Family Trust), all Marjory had to do was remove one book from the library’s shelves.

She had no qualms about it. No doubts or misgivings.

After all, that was what a library was supposed to do: lend out books, not dribble pizza sauce all over their pages.

She planned on borrowing the book Mrs. Chiltington had requested the very next day.

Marjory would earn her “Go to College Free” card.

And if things went the way Mrs. Chiltington said they would, the Alexandriaville Public Library would finally be free of Luigi Lemoncello.