Jackson Jones, Book 1_ The Tale of a Boy, an Elf, and a Very Stinky Fish - Jenn L. Kelly [7]
“There are many rooms to visit. Is there a specific room you would like to see first?” Meeka asked, wiping her hands on her skirt.
“How many rooms are in here, exactly?”
Meeka’s big brown eyes looked up at the ceiling as she ticked off her fingers, counting quietly. “Um, eleven-twenty.”
“Eleven-twenty isn’t a number.”
Meeka turned her eyes on Jackson. “Eleven-twenty is too a number. It comes before the twelve-somethings,” she argued.
Jackson back-pedaled. “My mistake.”
“Quite all right!” Meeka laughed. “This is a very big place.”
Jackson thought about the size of Great-Aunt Harriett’s hair and agreed. It was a lot of hair. I mean, a lot of hair.
“Why don’t you just take me wherever you want?” Jackson said.
Meeka’s eyes grew even bigger. “Are you sure?”
Jackson shrugged his shoulders, “Why not?”
Meeka’s smile disappeared as she became very serious. She straightened the hem of her skirt and flattened her stray hairs. She sniffed importantly and marched to one of the cabinets hanging on the wall.
“You’ll need this,” she announced. She handed him a beautiful leather satchel. It had a thick leather strap with engravings of winding vines. The bag itself smelled of warm leather and was soft to the touch. Jackson slung it over his head and shoulder. It sat perfectly in the crook of his neck. His fingers found the heavy brass clasp, and he opened it. Inside was a pen, a flashlight, and running shoes.
Jackson’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re giving me this?”
Meeka nodded sagely. (Sagely means you are trying your hardest to look smart without laughing. This is not an easy task.) “We like everyone to be prepared.”
Jackson pulled the shoes out and slipped them on. They fit him perfectly.
“How did you know my size?” he asked.
Meeka shrugged. “I wouldn’t be a very good tour guide if I wasn’t prepared.” She turned.
“We go this way.”
Chapter 12
In Which the Tour Begins
Jackson looked around him as he followed Meeka down the hall. The grayish-red walls curved up into an arched ceiling overhead. They didn’t look like they were made of hair, but as you stepped closer you could see all of the hairs intertwined into an elaborate braid.
“Why is it called the Author’s tour? Are we going to meet any authors?” Jackson asked excitedly. He hoped so. He loved meeting authors.
Meeka shuffled her shoulders. “Um…that’s not quite what it means.”
“Oh, you mean there’s a Shakespeare wing or a Lewis Carroll tearoom. That kind of thing?”
“Not exactly.” Meeka began to walk faster.
“Well what kind of thing is it?”
“Um, it’s kind of hard to explain…” She trailed off. “Well, the first room we’re going to see is fantastic! It’s the room that I think everyone should visit first. The Book Room.”
“I already have a lot of books you know. I have Jaws and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and my mom reads me Alice in Wonderland at bedtime…” Jackson stopped, embarrassed. He loved to snuggle in with his mom and a hot chocolate, listening to her voice rise and fall as she read his favorite books. But no one needed to know that, especially a little elf he barely knew.
“But I bet you’ve never seen the books inside Great-Aunt Harriett’s hair!” Meeka argued.
Jackson had to nod his head in agreement. That was true.
“Here we are!” she announced. And there they were indeed. A big, brown door was nestled into the wall with a big black sign on it.
“Stand back please, sir,” said Meeka, and she knocked. The big, brown door swung heavily into the room, and faint smells of wood polish tickled Jackson’s nose.
“Our first room,” Meeka declared.
They walked in.
Chapter 13
In Which We Enter the Book Room
You have probably been inside a bookstore before. You might have even been inside an old bookstore, or at least been dragged into one. But have you ever been in an old, well-kept bookstore? You know, the kind with wood floors that are so lustrous you can see your reflection in them? Off to the side is a wrought-iron staircase that spirals