© Copyright Cupideros, Friday, August 14, 2016
BOOK 1, CHAPTERS 10-EPILOGUE
THE QUESTIONING BOOK StoryTime by Cupideros
CHAPTER TEN: THE WALK HOME
The street was empty. The stars were out. The old pet store’s mannequin was still wearing the dog costume and the mustache, and now someone had added a hat.
Milo was sitting on the library’s top step. Then he stood up. He sensed she was returning from the beyond, his Best Platonic Friend (BPF), Elara.
His laptop was open in his lap. “Kaput! Kaput! Kaput.”
But Milo wasn’t playing anymore. He was just standing, staring at the library’s door, waiting. The screen glowed blue; a first-person shooter game was losing points after point as the game adversary destroyed him. “Splash!”
He looked up when Elara appeared. His eyes went wide. She walked out and down the steps.
Milo followed her. “Sparks? You were in there for hours!”
Elara looked back at where the library had been.
It was gone.
Just a blank space between two buildings. Like it had never been there at all.
“How long?” she asked.
“Three hours and twelve minutes. I counted.”
“It felt like ten minutes.”
Milo closed his laptop. He put it into his book bag. “What happened in there? Where is your blue bow? What did you see? Was it scary? Was there a monster? Did you almost die?”
Elara looked down at her hand.
She was still holding the #2 yellow pencil, and on her sleeve, she had somehow copied the math problem from page forty-five.
IF A GIRL READS A SENTENCE WITH 12 WORDS AND SKIPS 8 OF THEM BY READING TOO FAST, WHAT FRACTION OF THE STORY DID SHE ACTUALLY FEEL?
“One-third,” Elara whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Elara said. She looked at Milo. “Computer games, you were right.”
“About what?”
“That place is exactly how people disappear.”
Milo’s face went pale. “Sparks—”
“I disappeared into a story for three hours.” She smiled. “And I want to do it again.”
Milo stared at her. “But, Sparks, you hate reading!”
Then he laughed. A nervous laugh. A relieved laugh. The kind of laugh that came from a stomach that had been clenched for over three hours and was finally relaxing.
“You’re weird,” he said.
“I thought I hated reading. I really hated Thinking-It-Through, slowing down, staying, and following the thought, feeling, or pattern wherever it led me. I’m a new reader, a new person, Milo.” Elara started walking toward home. “There’s a difference.”
Milo jogged to catch up. His laptop now bounced inside his backpack.
“Sparks, are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Tomorrow.”
“And your blue hair bow?”
“Tomorrow as well.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I need to think it through first.” She hesitated. “Did you know, Milo, without words you can’t say anything about anything?”
Milo didn’t understand.
She could see the confusion on his face, while her face radiated an amber glow, reflecting her understanding and self-awareness.
“Your face is glowing, Sparks.”
“That’s called self-awareness, Milo.”
They walked home in silence.
The streetlights flickered. The stars stayed where they were. Somewhere behind them, between the old pet store and the laundromat, there was nothing but a blank lot.
But Elara knew the ancient mysterious library was there.
She could still feel it.
The weight of the words. The space between them. The slowdown to think things through.
She held the #2 yellow pencil tighter.
And kept walking.
EPILOGUE: READER NINETY-SEVEN
One week later, Elara found Jake Lawson in the school cafeteria.
He was reading a book. But he wasn’t finishing it.
She watched the dark-skinned African-American nine-year-old boy for a while. Randomly, she flitted her eyes here and there, taking in his casual clothes, book bag, and hoodie. He had short curly black hair and a thin nose. His brown eyes looked as if they had seen too much too early. He would read a few pages. Then he would check how many pages were left. Then he would read a few more. Then he would check again. When he got within three pages of the end, he closed the book. Put it down. Picked up a different book.
Every single time.
“You hate endings,” Elara finally said, getting up from her table, walking over, and sitting across from Jake.
Jake looked up. His eyes were tired. “How do you know?”
“Because I used to read too fast. Now I slow down.” She pulled out the #2 yellow pencil—the one from the mysterious ancient library. The lightning bolt was still there, carved into the wood. “I know a book that won’t let you stop before the ending. So you can become a lawyer.”
Jake frowned. “I’ll just hire you to read the rest of the book. White girls love to read.”
“I’m French if you must know.” Her black braids shook with some sass under her light-blue French beret.
“Nice having two parents in the household.”
“It’s not what you think, Jake. They used to read to me when I was younger; now they’re both off working.”
“Well,” Jake said, “if you got it too expensive, I’ll just let AI do my summary and readings for me. Is this an AI book?”
“The Questioning Book? Oh, no. It’s—it’s a regular old book—sort of. Kinda if you view it the right way!” Elara lied. He’d never go to his reading appointment if she described how horrible, hideous, and monstrous the massive book was.
She opened the book in her lap—not the ancient one, a normal book, one of her favorites—and turned to page forty-five.
She showed him the math problem. The lightning bolt. The words.
ELARA WAS HERE. SHE SLOWED DOWN.
“There’s a math problem on page forty-five,” Jake said, staring at it with trepidation.
“There is.”
“I hate math.”
“I know. You don’t have to read all 412 pages of The Questioning Book.”
“412 pages! Are you crazy?” Jake almost raised his voice.
Elara and Jake looked around cautiously.
Jake looked at the pencil. Then at Elara. Then at the cafeteria door.
“Why should I go?”
Elara thought about it.
She thought about the Scary Questioning Book’s snake-like amber eyes and the blue humanizing diamond gem on its forehead. About the way it had waited for her. About the curse and the chain of readers who had come before.
“Because I am braver than I look, Jake. Besides, I dare the future lawyer in you to go,” she said.
Jake stared at her for a long moment. “I am brave, just not about a book’s final—The End.”
Then he took the pencil. He got up and walked out.
Elara smiled. “He’ll go after school today.”
