Jackson Jones, Book 1_ The Tale of a Boy, an Elf, and a Very Stinky Fish - Jenn L. Kelly [9]
“What do you mean?”
The gentleman turned to the left, gracefully extending his long arm, and pointed the direction to go. He used his whole hand to point and not just a finger, as using one finger is impolite, of course.
“If you need anything else, sir, please do not hesitate to ask. I am Sir Shaw.” And he silently slipped behind the dark maroon velvet curtain.
Jackson looked over at Meeka, who had her fingers in her ears and was rolling her eyes about. She giggled quietly to herself.
Jackson approached a wooden archway that led into another room. A large sign hung over the entrance. It was black, with large white writing that read:
“Ask what?” Jackson muttered, and he entered the room.
Chapter 15
In Which There Are Too Many Books (As if That’s Possible)
The room was small and consisted of only one bookshelf. Jackson approached the bookshelf, scanning the books on display. Their covers were blank. He picked one up and opened it. Empty. He picked up another. Nothing inside at all.
“How is this supposed to help?”
Letters began to dance on the covers, forming titles.
How to Decipher Riddles,
How to Stop Your Tour Guide from Making Faces on the Floor,
How to Choose a Book, and
How to Ask the Right Questions in the Ask Section of the Book Room.
Jackson picked up the last one. Its creamy yellow pages were bound in dark leather. He opened to the first page and read aloud:
“Ask for what you want help with.”
Jackson put the book back. What I want? His eyebrows frowned in concentration. “Well, what do I want?” he wondered aloud.
A magical tinkling filled the air. The same kind of wonderful magical tinkling that tells you that something wonderful is about to happen. The books changed. The covers morphed into different colors, their titles changing into new titles. Jackson scratched his head in wonderment.
How to Win Baseball Games,
How to Write Amazing Stories, and
How to Win Arguments with Your Parents.
Ooh, that had to be a good one. His fingers reached up, but stopped as a title appeared on a purple book.
How to Hide Your Beet Risotto 17 Different Ways.
An orange one read, How to be Cool in School.
How to Influence Friends and Win People, read a raspberry-colored book.
Perfect.
Jackson picked it up and began to walk toward the well-polished counter.
Uh-oh.
Jackson shrugged off his satchel and checked inside. He groaned. Of course there was no money in it. Jackson looked around. The title changed on a green book in front of him.
How to Steal Without Getting Caught.
Jackson was tempted.
Very tempted.
The title morphed again: How to Give into Temptation Without Feeling Guilty.
Jackson chose not to look. He had a conscience after all. He was putting the book back when something caught his eye. Up on the shelf was a plain, ordinary-looking brown book. He picked it up.
How to Be Yourself.
Jackson paused, holding his breath. I want people to like me. I want to have friends. I want to be one of the cool guys who makes everyone laugh, who people want to hang out with. But maybe I don’t have to be cool for people to like me. What do I do?
Another book title changed in front of him.
How to Make a Decision.
Jackson was getting a headache. This was some pretty serious stress.
“We need to continue with the tour,” Meeka squeaked, appearing at his elbow. Her hair was a mess with a big squirrel’s nest in the back. (Not an actual squirrel’s nest. It was just a messy knot, although you never know.) Meeka looked at the book in Jackson’s hands.
“Oh, no, you MUST get How to Be Cool in School! Then you would have oh-so-many friends! I would LO-OOVE to have many friends. Even just one friend would be wonderful,” she added wistfully, looking up at Jackson from beneath her long eyelashes.
“I’ll be your friend.”
“Really? I have my very own friend?” And she