• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

What? He had gone through all of that…that stress! The sweating! The nausea! He had almost thrown up! And for what? A stupid book with nothing written in it?

Jackson jerked himself out of the chair (which took a few tries as it was a very thick cushiony seat), and stomped over to the ASK section.

But the ASK section had disappeared.

Jackson looked wildly around him.

Gone.

He clomped over to the counter and banged his fist on the well-polished silver bell. It tinged an annoyed ting, as though offended.

Sir Shaw stepped out from behind the deep maroon velvet curtain.

“May I help you, sir?” he asked in a very serious voice that was also very dignified and very polite.

Jackson slammed the book on the counter between them.

“There’s nothing in this book! I got ripped off!”

Sir Shaw looked at the book on the counter, and then fixed his dark blue eyes on Jackson.

“And what is it exactly that you were looking for, sir?” he asked, one bushy white eyebrow arching.

Jackson exploded. “I wasn’t looking for anything! You sent me to the ASK section and you offered me a trade and I got ripped off! There is nothing in this book! It’s empty! I helped you, and I got nothing in return! I almost threw up!”

Sir Shaw glanced down at the book again. “Nothing is in it at all, sir?”

“No! Nothing is in it at all!”

Sir Shaw looked at Jackson quietly. Jackson felt a little embarrassed about his behavior. But he was still very angry. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sir Shaw reached his hand out toward the book, but his fingers didn’t touch it.

“Perhaps there is a reason why there is nothing written in it, sir.”

Jackson stared back at him, fuming.

“Now if you will excuse me, I do not believe I can help you any further in this matter.” And he slipped behind the deep maroon velvet curtain, his crossword puzzle tucked under his arm.

“Are you kidding me? That’s it? What am I supposed to do with a book that has nothing in it? Hey! If I wanted a journal, I would have looked for a journal! I wasn’t looking for anything!”

He stomped over to Meeka and nudged her. Meeka shot up like a startled cat and jumped behind her chair.

“I’m not doing anything wrong!” she yelled looking wildly around. Then she noticed Jackson. She straightened up, wiping the whipped cream off her chin.

“Oh, are you ready to go?” she asked, patting her wispy hair back in place.

Jackson gave a jerky nod. “There’s nothing for me here,” he said. And he stomped out the door.

Meeka slung her tour-guide bag over her shoulder, and her big, brown eyes spotted the brown book on the well-polished counter. She quickly glanced around and then snatched the book, shoving it into her worn, bulging tour-guide bag. She ran out the door.

The deep maroon velvet curtain twitched and a set of dark blue eyes with bushy, white eyebrows over them disappeared from view. Then there was a soft chuckle.

Chapter 16

In Which There Is Frustration, Annoyance, Irritation, and Exasperation

Jackson was being a crabby-crabber-ton. Can you blame him? He was frustrated, annoyed, irritated, infuriated, exasperated, enraged, perturbed, and discouraged. He was even a little bit hungry. Hmm…perhaps the hunger had something to do with the crabbiness? Obviously he was frustrated, annoyed, irritated, infuriated, exasperated, enraged, perturbed, and discouraged because of the whole book incident, but don’t things always look better after you eat? They say that things will look better in the morning and this too shall pass, but seeing as how Jackson could not wait until morning to finish his tour, perhaps eating would help.

Let’s continue with the story and hope that Jackson eats soon because no one wants to read a book with a cranky character. Actually, you may be feeling a bit peck-ish yourself right now. So if you want to go get something to eat, I don’t mind waiting for you. After all, no one likes a cranky reader.

Chapter 17

In Which We Find a Doorknob

As they walked down the corridor, Jackson felt a little tired. And a little hungry. As