that was
Bimox, Jon
. But in between these two books was an empty space. It appeared as if once, perhaps not long ago, a book sat here.
âBilbloxâs book,â whispered Leif to himself. The longshoremanâs full name was âPaks Bilbloxâ and this is where his book ought to be.
Could it be? But whereâd it go? Did the boy take it?
Impossible to know. Leif stood on the ladder for a long time, lost in thought, until finally he remembered that he had business to take care of and, reluctantly, he resumed climbing upward.
Leif continued his ascent until he came upon an opening that led into a cozy nook. The nook, as far as Leif could tell, was situated inside a large knot in the tree which had been hollowed out and turned into a small office of sorts. The room contained a desk, a fireplace, and a few bookshelves. The fireplace was lit with a strange, green flickering fire which created no smoke. There were no burning logs, briquettes, gas tubes, or anything at all that appeared to be fueling the fire. Above the desk hung a picture with a sturdy frame made of thick tree limbs. The frame was old and worn and, along one edge, it had two deep claw marks. The canvas itself was blank. âHuh?â said Leif to himself. âWhat kind of artwork...?â
Leif walked over to the desk and took the picture down from the wall. As soon as he did, a parcel wrapped in thick brown parchment fell out. Apparently, someone had hidden it there, tucking it away behind the back of the picture frame. Leif presumed that this was the thing that he was meant to burn. He studied the parcel closely. It felt light and brittle in his hands. The parchment was yellow and ancient looking. It appeared as if the whole thing might disintegrate into dust at any moment. Leif walked over to the strange green fire that was crackling in the fireplace. It was scorching hot. Leif took the package and held it over the flames. As he did this, he recalled Imadâs warning:
Take what you find and burn it there. Donât open it or... or God help us all
.
Suddenly, Leif had a very strong hunch about what the package contained.
âI donât believe it,â said Leif aloud. âHe leads me right to it and then tells me not to look inside.â Before he could second-guess himself, Leif ripped off the parchment covering the parcel. Inside was an old, leather-bound book and, on the front cover, in thick block letters were two words: ALFONSO PERPLEXON.
âAh, give me a break!â said Leif angrily. âWhat am I supposed to do with this?â He sighed heavily. He started to open the book, then slammed it shut. âNo I canât,â he said. âIâll regret it, I know I will.â Instead, he held the book up to the fire, allowing a green flame to blacken its cover. The pages started to turn a golden brown, the way slices of white bread do in a toaster. Then, suddenly, Leif pulled the book back into his arms and fanned out the embers that had started to form on its pages. His mind was racing with thoughts.
What if the book contained some vital information about where Alfonso was? What if his son was in danger? Perhaps the book could help Leif find his son â perhaps even rescue him? Could he really walk away from such information? But what about Imadâs warning?
Imad knew what the book said. Presumably, Imad had written these books himself. Given that, wasnât it foolhardy to ignore Imadâs advice â his warning?
Desperately, Leif yanked open the front cover of the book. The title page had the following inscription.
The Life & Times of
Alfonso H. Perplexon A Concise Listing of Prophecies, Scenarios, & Unusual Permutations
Like the other books in the library, the ensuing pages contained row after row of neatly written âwhat ifâ scenarios. The beginning was filled with scenarios Alfonso had already encountered.
(â
) If A.P. refuses to go to school on 7th of April, he will
Elaine Levine
M.A. Stacie
Feminista Jones
Aminta Reily
Bilinda Ni Siodacain
Liz Primeau
Phil Rickman
1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas
Neal Stephenson
Joseph P. Lash