Mr. Lemoncello's Library Olympics: Chapter 39–Epilogue

“And I did terribly in the poolside puzzle fiasco,” said Kyle. “Remember?”
Sierra smiled. “I may never forget it.”

“Moving on,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “This next question is not—I repeat, not—a multiple guess. You must tap in your answer using the keypad on your tabletop’s tablet computer. We’re still in the category of banned books, only this time they’re more than banned, because these poor books were burned. Here is your question: On what date did the Dominican priest Savonarola collect and publicly burn thousands of lewd books in Florence, Italy?”

“This is quite the quizzical, perplexable, and curious conundrum,” said Mr. Lemoncello.

“Actually,” said Marjory, leaning back smugly, “she will be looking for zero-three-two, encyclopedias in American English. You people need to start being much more specific; otherwise—”
Suddenly, there was a shriek from the second floor.

“Since Mr. Lemoncello was so sweet to give us smartphones when we played that Battle of the Books game, I used mine to Google ‘Bonfire of the Vanities, 1497,” because that’s what the Italians used to call the burning of objects they considered immoral.

If I may quote: ‘The most infamous bonfire took place on February seventh, 1497, when the Dominican priest Savonarola collected and publicly burned thousands of objects like art and books in Florence, Italy, on the day of the Mardi Gras festival.’

Perched on a stool behind the librarian’s desk, Mr. Lemoncello looked completely dumbfounded.
Miguel pointed at Marjory. “You used your phone to find the answer! You cheated.”
“No, I did not. I only used it to confirm my answer.”

“This is egregious!” shouted Charles.
“The people of Alexandriaville deserve better!” added his mother.
“This is also heinous!” said Charles. “And atrocious, too.”

“Because, Miss Muldauer, Dr. Seuss’s book was considered extremely controversial when it first came out in 1958, for including the word ‘burp.’” Mr. Lemoncello belched. “Sorry. Guzzled too much Lemonberry Fizz while I was recharging my batteries. Yertle the Turtle has also been banned because of its political messages.”

“Marvelous work, Miss Muldauer!” said Mrs. Chiltington when Marjory and her team passed by on their way to the front door. “Simply marvelous! You completely demoralized the man.”

“I’ve made up my mind even though I have not yet made up my bed. I, Luigi Libretto Lemoncello, hereby officially declare the games of this first Library Olympiad to be over. Done. Kaput. There will be no winners. This library has failed to find its true champions...."

““The books are not yet overdue,” said Dr. Zinchenko.
“And, if I might cite the American Library Association’s code of ethics...”
“Please, Dr. Z, cite away,” said Mr. Lemoncello.
“Here at the Lemoncello Library, we protect each library user’s right to privacy and confidentiality with respect to information sought or received and resources consulted, borrowed, acquired, or transmitted.”

“So it would seem,” said Mrs. Chiltington. “I just received a call from that Russian woman, Dr. Zinfluenzo. She suggested that I come by the library first thing Monday morning. Apparently, Mr. Lemoncello’s lawyers are drawing up papers to transfer the stewardship of ‘his’ library to its new board of trustees.”

“Yes. The League of Concerned Library Lovers will make certain that the new Alexandriaville Public Library undertakes a major course correction and no longer subjects children to corrupting influences and mindless frivolity.”

“How did you know losing Flora and Ulysses would have that effect on him, Mr. Peckleman?” asked Marjory.
The old man cackled. “Because Luigi’s smart. He figured out that one of you library-loving kids was helping me hoard every single copy of that terrible book. It broke his heart. Crushed his spirit.”

Andrew could hear a slight quaver in Marjory’s voice. She took a deep breath.

“I’m very glad I could help you two save a library from turning into a cheap, Floo-powdered World of Wizardry tourist trap,” she continued, her voice shaky. “However, now that Mr. Lemoncello is relinquishing control, we should take back that book I borrowed. Maybe I can drop it off in the sidewalk book-return slot when no one is watching.”

“There are other books that I don’t like,” added Mrs. Chiltington. “For instance, that Yertle the Turtle. It is rather subversive. Not at all what our children need to be reading if we expect them to grow up properly. There are also some local history books that are quite biased in their interpretation of the past. One entitled Ohio River Pirates and Scallywags, for instance, is full of lies, innuendo, and misinformation. It should, once again, be pulled from the shelves.”

“There are other books that I don’t like,” added Mrs. Chiltington. “For instance, that Yertle the Turtle. It is rather subversive. Not at all what our children need to be reading if we expect them to grow up properly. There are also some local history books that are quite biased in their interpretation of the past. One entitled Ohio River Pirates and Scallywags, for instance, is full of lies, innuendo, and misinformation. It should, once again, be pulled from the shelves.”

“There are other books that I don’t like,” added Mrs. Chiltington. “For instance, that Yertle the Turtle. It is rather subversive. Not at all what our children need to be reading if we expect them to grow up properly. There are also some local history books that are quite biased in their interpretation of the past. One entitled Ohio River Pirates and Scallywags, for instance, is full of lies, innuendo, and misinformation. It should, once again, be pulled from the shelves.”

Someone had slathered wet cement over the “Knowledge Not Shared Remains Unknown” motto chiseled into the fountain’s base.

“Oh, hello, Keeley. What are you doing here in mother’s library?”
“It’s not her library,” said Akimi.
“Well, it will be soon enough,” said Charles. “When I’m finished grounding these ridiculous contraptions, I’ll be heading upstairs with my wire cutters. Mummy wants me to snip the power cables to all those senseless video games.”

“That’s right. I’m a virtual librarian. That means I live up in the cloud inside a computer—a computer connected to the four hundred and ninety-eight different security cameras currently operational inside this library. I’m also linked to the Web and know exactly how to send streaming video footage of you vandalizing that expensive equipment to the local and state police. It’s amazing what you can do when you share knowledge with others.”

“Are they anagrams or something?”
“Nope. It’s another version of Mr. Lemoncello’s First Letters game. When you write down the first letter of all eleven medals, guess what it says.”
Kyle had already scribbled out the answer on a scrap of paper: “Go to Liberty.”

Angus Harper pulled out his smartphone. “And it just so happens that I have a GPS navigation app on my phone. Most fliers do. We tap in longitude 41.376495 and latitude negative 83.651040 and—BOOM!—this map shows us where to go.”

Angus Harper pulled out his smartphone. “And it just so happens that I have a GPS navigation app on my phone. Most fliers do. We tap in longitude 41.376495 and latitude negative 83.651040 and—BOOM!—this map shows us where to go.”

The vote was unanimous.
Kyle was elected captain. He would open the Dumpster.
He might also need to climb inside it.

This new team of super library geeks seemed invincible. They were Mr. Lemoncello’s Champion Crusaders, standing up for what was right in a world gone wrong. Sharing knowledge to boldly conquer the unknown.
Or something like that.

“I fly with haste to do thy bidding,” said Mr. Peckleman, sounding all of a sudden like he was in a play by Shakespeare. He bent down and flipped a switch on the fire pit. The flames disappeared in a poof!
“Gas logs,” said Mr. Lemoncello. “Just another part of our glorious charade.”

Mr. Peckleman ruffled open a bright blue tarp with a theatrical flourish and draped it over all the squirrel books.

“Sir Donald also coached Dr. Zinchenko and me so we might play our own parts with passion and panache.” Mr. Lemoncello started imitating himself, acting much more melodramatically than he had in his original performance. “Oh, boo hoo. I, Luigi Libretto Lemoncello, hereby officially declare the games of this first Library Olympiad to be over. Done. Kaput!”
“Wait a second,” said Akimi. “That was all an act?”

Kyle studied the book’s cover: Ohio River Pirates and Scallywags.
“It’s a history book, obviously,” said Dr. Zinchenko. “It was written by a teacher at Chumley Prep. I think you’ll find chapter eleven to be very enlightening. It’s all about a bandit named Ugly Chuck Willoughby, who led the Hole-in-the-Rocks gang, a group of pirates who plundered flat-boats along the Ohio River in the late 1700s.”

Mr. Lemoncello smiled slyly. “Why, Kyle Keeley, do you really think I am that cunning and clever?”
“Yes, sir. That’s why your games are so good.”

Charles Chiltington was outside, as usual, walking back and forth on the sidewalk, carrying a protest sign that said “Mr. Lemoncello’s Library Is Execrable.”

“You want to come inside and check out our reference section? Maybe borrow a thesaurus?”
“What?”
“I totally respect your freedom of expression, Charles. I just think you might be able to express yourself more clearly if you didn’t use big words on all your signs. See ya!”