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The teachers called him a daydreamer, but in the picture he was a professor. He won a prize for his writing! How much of a daydreamer could he be if he accomplished those things? Maybe that was just for now. And if that was just for now, then it didn’t matter what anyone else said. What he saw was true. Wasn’t it?

“So, what I saw in the mirrors, that was true?” he asked.

“Unless you see yourself differently from the truth,” she said softly. “Unless you forget.”

Jackson hugged his satchel tightly and thought of the Book inside. He’d never forget. The Book would remind him if he forgot.

A beep sounded, and Eleissa flicked a button on her watch.

“Time’s up. Good-bye.”

Meeka stood up. “We have to go now, Jackson,” she said tugging at his hand.

“But I have more questions!” he said, not moving.

“I’m very busy; please don’t bother me,” Eleissa sighed impatiently at them.

Jackson got up reluctantly and walked toward the open tent flap that Meeka was holding for him.

“Eleissa?”

“What?”

“Could you please stop reading my story?”

Eleissa nodded and then smiled at him.

Jackson slipped out of the tent, Meeka quietly following.

Chapter 38

A Chapter that Is Not Nearly as Long as the Last One

In the back of your mind is a little nag nagging you. I’m not talking about an old horse nag, I’m talking about a worry, a torment, an “irk,” if you will. You are probably wondering what that nag (worry, torment, irk) is. You are wondering about the doorknob on the floor in the middle of the hall. I know your mind has been going back to that doorknob and that you probably have some questions. Such as:

Why was it on the floor? Why was it not on a door? Is there a door in the floor? What is behind the door if it is indeed a door in the floor? Why on earth did Jackson forget about it? I surely didn’t forget about it. Is the writer of this book having fun with me? Or is it just a pointless thing in a pointless story that is quite pointless? And when-oh-when is this book going to end? Am I going to be able to stay awake in school tomorrow with all of this reading I’m doing? Are my parents going to catch me reading in bed? Will my

mother make me go outside and play instead of finishing this book? What is with that doorknob? What is the cosine of 7.88? What is Spanish for “couch?” Why is the writer still asking all these questions? When will the writer go on?

Well, dear reader, I have some answers for you:

Because. Because. Yes. I’m getting to that. He didn’t. A little. No. Soon. Doubtful. I hope not. She might. I’m getting to that. I don’t know. Look it up in a Spanish-English dictionary. Because I can. Now.

Chapter 39

I Bet You Thought I Forgot

Jackson and Meeka walked out the back door of the house (because the gargantuan, hairy-backed spiders were still lurking on the front porch), walked out the lovely doors painted a vivacious red, and continued with the tour.

Their walk back wasn’t worth mentioning as it was rather boring in comparison to the rest of their adventure. Except when Meeka tripped on the path and the pretty weeds that smell like fishy dog breath rubbed their fishy dog breath smell on her hands. Then she

had to dig around her big bulging tour-guide bag for antibacterial wipes. (“They have those in here?” Jackson asked, to which Meeka replied, “Of course! Don’t you think we care about hygiene?”)

They rounded the corner of the hallway. A shiny something-or-other caught Jackson’s eye, and as they approached he realized that it was the doorknob.

The doorknob.

The doorknob in the middle of the floor.

Jackson had been wondering about the doorknob but because of his adventures, he figured they would get to it eventually. As I may share with you, dear readers, that when he wanted to, Jackson could be a very patient young man. Rather unlike impatient readers.

And indeed, there the doorknob was.

Chapter 40

In Which There Is a Secret

Jackson looked resolutely at the doorknob. (Resolutely means with determination. Like when your dog sits begging at the table and is pretty sure you’ll give