THE BOOK THAT JEROME HEARD

by Andrew Marr, OSB

for Sean and Joshua

Jerome Malory was more sure than ever that his summer was going to be a total bust when he looked at dark gray row of townhouses towering over him. Some five narrow stories high, the townhouses seemed to stare down at him as to ask what he was doing in uptown Manhattan. Two heavy suitcases left on the sidewalk by the cabbie flanked him on each side. It had been a long ride from La Guardia Airport. It had been a long flight to the airport. He whispered a curse on his parents for deciding they had to spend the summer on Greenland to study global warning and while making him stay with an uncle and four cousins who didn’t want him. Uncle Jordan had met him at the airport only because the airline required that Jerome be met by a responsible adult. In the time it took for Jerome to claim his luggage and get stuffed into a taxi, Uncle Jordan reminded Jerome at least twenty times that he really didn’t have time to leave his office for this sort of thing. Jerome slid a hand in his pocket and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper Uncle Jordan had given him. The number on the townhouse in front of him matched the number scrawled on the piece of paper.

With a sigh, Jerome rolled the suitcases up to the steps and rang the doorbell. He waited for several minutes without any hint of an answer. He took out the piece of paper again and checked the numbers there with the numbers posted above him. Either his uncle had forgotten his own address, or he was at the right house. He rang the doorbell three times. Hard. Even that seemed to have no effect. Jerome began to fear that he was at the wrong house and was about to enter the ranks of the homeless that very evening. Or, his cousins had decided never to answer the door, which would have the same effect. Desperately, Jerome punched in the doorbell five times. Hard. The door opened on the fifth ring and four sullen faces peered out at him.

“You didn’t really have to get so carried away,” said the hefty, tall girl among the children. “We knew you were coming.”

“Sorry,” Jerome apologized. He wasn’t about to argue with a girl who looked big enough and strong enough to sack a quarterback in the NFL.

Some twenty minutes later, Jerome stood in the middle of a dusty attic room where shores of thick dust surrounded a lake of swept floor that afforded just enough space for a bunk bed that Jerome was certain had been rejected by the poorest summer camp in the world, a wobbly table with an even wobblier straight-back chair, and a warped dresser. There was only one overhead naked lightbulb and a lamp on the table for light when he wanted it. The suitcases flanked him again on either side and his four cousins formed a threatening semi-circle in front of him. His mother had thought Uncle Jordan was kidding when he told her he could let Jerome stay up in the attic. Jerome wondered if things would be better if his Aunt Jerellyn hadn’t run off a year ago, but then decided they wouldn’t be if she was the sort to desert her family for the man of her dreams.

“The less we know you’re here, the better.” said Jessica, showing Jerome her full height and girth. Having carried one of the suitcases to the top of the house as if it were a brief case filled with feathers, Jerome had less appetite for tangling with her than ever. At fourteen, she was the oldest child in the Delacourt family.

“Sorry we didn’t have time to clean the attic much,” said James with a smug smile that was as unapologetic as a boy’s smile can be. “It’ll give you something to do while you’re here.” Although he was the younger of the two boys, he was the stronger one, and so he had been “elected” to carry the other suitcase when Jerome almost fell over from carrying it up to the second floor. His rounded face was still flushed from the exertion and the cussing he did on the way up. Like Jerome, he was ten.

“My advisory is that you present an invisible facade to your matrilineal cousins,” said John, who looked and acted like a pencil. Jerome already knew that this sandy-haired boy of twelve was a dedicated nerd.

“Maybe you’ll float out the window tonight and we won’t hear of you again.” said Jennifer. That dashed Jerome’s hopes that her dreamy face and younger age meant she would be nicer to him than the other children.

“If you wait until about a quarter after seven,” said Jessica, “you can come down and fix some dinner for yourself without reminding us of your existence.”

“And remember,” said James, “the beef slices are mine.”

The four cousins turned around and left Jerome to himself. Just beyond the shore of dust kitties, piles of dust-covered junk that must have lain in the attic for centuries loomed over his bed like a tidal wave. Jerome felt like breaking down and crying. Instead, he shuffled over to the window and looked down at the street. Neither the cars driving by or the people walking up and down the sidewalk could keep the street from looking empty as he remembered what his cousins had just told him.

Tired of feeling sorry for himself, Jerome hoisted one of the suitcases up on his bed and began to unpack. After putting his clothes away in drawers that almost fell apart when he touched them, he put his notebook computer on the table and opened it. Just then, he heard a low rumbling sound. Jerome looked in the direction where he thought he’d heard it. So many books and albums were piled up on top of battered boxes that Jerome couldn’t see anything to account for what he’d heard. He listened for a while longer. Nothing. He shrugged and turned on his computer. Then he heard the rumbling sound again. This time, it almost sounded like a man’s voice. Every inch of Jerome’s body stiffened. He waited for the sound to repeat itself, but it didn’t. Determined to ignore it, Jerome slid into the chair and caught his balance before its short leg almost tipped him over. Then he logged into one of his favorite computer games to kill time before he could go downstairs and get his own supper.

“Once.”

Jerome was sure that the rumbling sound had said that word. There seemed to be no doubt that it was coming from somewhere among the books stacked close to his bed.

“Once upon,” said a voice that sounded like a creaking door hinge in a haunted house.

Jerome jumped out of his chair and slid across the floor to his bed. The springs groaned so loudly Jerome feared they would break. Was the voice a ghost haunting the attic after having been murdered over a century ago? Jerome asked himself. Or, was there a vampire lying in one of the chests, waiting to rise up and suck his blood?

“Once upon what?” Jerome asked.

“Once upon a time,” the voice answered.

Jerome was quite sure that he saw two or three thick albums on the top of one of the stacks rise and fall slightly.

“What time?” Jerome asked, his whole body shaking. “Who are you?”

“Once upon a time there was a fire dragon.”

Those words were followed by a roar. Jerome thought he saw a puff of smoke blow out of one of the books in the same stack he had just looked at, but he hoped it was only a cloud of dust. Desperately, Jerome looked at his watch. The time was only 6:44. Jerome didn’t dare go downstairs for another half hour, but he hardly dared stay in his room, either. He rushed to the door, opened it, went down two steps, closed the door and sat down on the step. There, he huddled himself into as small and tight a ball as he could manage on the thin slat of wood that jabbed into his bottom. Jerome listened anxiously for the voice or the scary roar, but no sound came through the door. From down below, Jerome thought he was hearing as many CDs or DVDs as there were people in the house. From the attic stairs, it was all a mishmash. He also heard a periodic slamming of doors and exchanges of insults using words Jerome had been taught never to use. He sat in the tight little ball he had made himself into until the readout on his watch finally reached 7: 15, the time when it should be safe to go downstairs and find himself some supper.

Down one floor, Jerome saw again the signs on one door that read: UNINVITED COUSINS STAY OUT and on the other: ALL TRESPASSERS WILL BE BOILED IN OIL AND FED TO JABBA THE HUT. Posted on the door in the middle was a sign that read: BATHROOM PRIVILEGES FOR ILLEGAL ALIENS LIMITED TO FIVE MINUTES A DAY. When Jerome had passed the rooms on the way up, James and Jennifer emphatically told Jerome that these were their rooms and that the signs meant what they said. All of the thumping from James’ room along with the rock CD he had on was enough to make Jerome think that James was running a cross-country race all by himself. The CD competing with James’ from Jennifer’s room was a more lush, mushy sounding song. If Jennifer were doing anything, the music was drowning it out.

The signs on the bedroom doors on the next floor down were hardly more cordial: NO SLIME TOADS ALLOWED. THAT MEANS ALL BOYS NAMED JEROME MALORY and, on the door that was obviously John’s room: ALL EXQUISITE TORMENTS AND TORTURES ARE RESERVED FOR ALL UNAUTHORIZED HOMO SAPIENS CAUGHT EVEN COGITATING OVER THE POSSIBILITY OF ENTERING THIS CHAMBER. On the middle door, the sign read: NO CONTAMINATING GERMS FROM EXTRA-TERRESTRIALS ALLOWED PAST THIS DOOR. Jerome assumed that meant he wasn’t even allowed bathroom privileges on that floor for even five minutes a day. From John’s room, Jerome heard the kind of noise that violent computer games make. Jessica was shouting out commands as if she were a military sergeant over an R & B CD.

The floor below was eerily quiet except for the sounds coming from above. Jerome had heard that Uncle Jordan worked nearly double time to make up for the income lost when Aunt Jerellyn split. With his cousins being what they were, Jerome could hardly blame his aunt for running off or his uncle for never coming home.

The noise from his cousins’ rooms had become a dull roar by the time Jerome reached the ground floor. He glanced into the living room. It was as perfectly neat as a room on display in a museum. That was the feeling it gave him; not that the dull couch and coffee table with no coffee table books on it and undistinguished chairs would be worth looking at in a museum. The living room didn’t look the least bit lived in.

Jerome shuddered and made his way to the kitchen at the back of the first floor. He opened the refrigerator, hoping he could remember what was forbidden. He needed not worry. Emphatic notes reading “DO NOT TOUCH” were attached to most of the items. Jerome began to wonder if he was going to get anything to eat in this house. Even if he went out and bought his own food, he doubted his cousins would treat his food the way they demanded he treat theirs. At last, he found a half-used package of baloney. Not his favorite meat, but at least he could eat it.

As Jerome spread some mustard on his bread and put the baloney slices on top of it, all he could think of were the ghosts and vampires who would attack him as soon as he returned to the attic. When he poured himself a glass of milk, Jerome heard the distant thunder of cousins running up or down a flight of stairs. He assumed they were having another fight among themselves until the thunder got louder, coming his way. Next thing Jerome knew, he was surrounded by four angry cousins.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Jessica.

“I’m just trying to have a baloney sandwich in peace,” Jerome answered.

“Why did you have to leave your CD player on full blast?” asked James.

“I didn’t.”

“You left something on,” said Jennifer.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then where are those decibels emanating from the attic coming from?” asked John.

With a flood of panic, Jerome suddenly realized what had happened. Why couldn’t that strange voice have stayed quiet until Jerome got back up to the attic? Then, remembering the puff of smoke, Jerome wondered if his cousins had heard the crackling of a fire. But that didn’t seem likely. He thought of telling them that he’d heard a strange voice from somewhere in the attic, but one look at the four stony pairs of eyes glaring at him made Jerome think better of that.

“I don’t know what it is,” Jerome mumbled.

“I suggest you find out and stop your noise pollution,” said Jessica.

There was a lot Jerome felt like saying about noise pollution, but with four against one, he knew he had to hold his tongue. Under four pairs of watchful eyes, Jerome scooped up his sandwich and glass of milk, and headed to the stairs. The signs on all the doors felt like nails driven into his own coffin as his cousins followed right behind him to prod him forward if need be. Jerome listened for the voice he’d heard in the attic before, but the noise from his cousins’ rooms was so loud he didn’t see how that voice or even the ominous roar could have been heard over it.

When Jerome reached the foot of the attic steps, he felt caught between a pack of wolves behind him and something like a vampire or vengeful ghost in front of him. With his cousins banded together, probably for the first time in their lives, and Jessica a step away from Jerome’s face, no retreat was possible. Jerome had to take his chances with the vampire or vengeful ghost. Watching his step as best he could with the plate in one hand and the glass of milk in the other, Jerome carefully placed one foot in front of the other half way up the steps, all the while listening for the dreaded sound of that voice.

“The fire dragon flew over the town, breathing fire and terrifying everybody in the town,” the voice boomed.

Jerome stumbled and spilled milk on his plate and on the steps, and barely managed to keep from falling.

“Where’d you get a CD like that?” asked James.

“Aren’t you going to clean up that mess?” asked Jennifer.

“If you don’t,” said John, “the mammary excretion will offend my olfactory system.”

“He means it will stink,” Jessica explained to James and John when they looked puzzled at their brother’s words.

“Just like Jerome,” said James.

“You can use a minute of your bathroom privilege to get some paper towels,” Jennifer offered.

After using his minute of privilege to do as he was told, Jerome cleaned the mess under the hostile gaze of his cousins. Then, plate and glass in hand, he worked his way to the attic door. There, he realized he had to put the plate down on the step below to free a hand to do that. Jerome braced himself when he opened the door, but he heard nothing more from his attic room. He picked up his plate, entered, put the plate on his desk and closed the door. Still nothing. Heaving a sigh of relief, Jerome sat down to eat his sandwich.

“And then the fire dragon said to the terrified people of the town: I will burn the town if you do not sacrifice a child to me!” said the voice that turned into a roar that shook the floor of the attic when it switched to the sound of the fire dragon.

Jerome turned and faced the stack of books by his bed, convinced by this time that the voice was coming from there. His suspicion was confirmed when he saw a bit of smoke along with a few sparks pour out of a thick book near the top of a stack.

“TURN THAT THING OFF!” chorused four cousins from below.

Less terrified of the voice and the book it was coming from than he was of his cousins, Jerome moved the books on top of the smoking one to another pile and picked it up. The book, about as thick as a family Bible, was warm to the touch, but not too hot to handle.

“Look,” said Jerome to the book, as if it really were the book that had spoken to him, “you’ve got to pipe down. My cousins are about to come up here and tear me apart if you keep making this racket. Besides, I need some peace and quiet, myself.”

Jerome paused and waited for the book to reply. It didn’t. Jerome looked at the cover of the book, but found it hard to look at. Although the light from outside was getting darker, Jerome still hadn’t turned on any lights, and so Jerome had no idea what color the thick book really was. Large faded gold letters were printed across the cover, but Jerome could not read them. It wasn’t that they were in a foreign language; it’s just that his eyes didn’t seem able to focus on them. He had the same experience with the design on the cover. The different colors seemed to form shapes, but Jerome couldn’t figure out what they were.

“Isn’t there somebody in the town with a lovely child that would make a tasty meal for me?” the fire dragon asked the terrified people of the town.

As the book spoke those words, it heated up. Jerome tried to drop the book on to the bed, but it resisted every effort to get it off his hands. To add to Jerome’s mounting panic, he was nearly sure he saw a ripple move across the cover like a mouth opening and closing as the book spoke those words, and he even thought a couple of the letters almost looked like a pair of eyes staring up at him for a couple of seconds.

“Shut up, Book,” said Jerome.

Jerome hunched himself over, expecting to be stormed by four furious cousins, but apparently they hadn’t heard the book speak this time.

“All right, Book,” said Jerome. “Why are you talking to me like this? Are you trying to get me to sacrifice some kid to some dragon? If you are, I’ve got four kids for you, if that’s what you want.”

Jerome opened the book to see if that would give him any answers. He thought he saw a title page in smouldering letters but several pages flipped past before Jerome could take in what was there. The book settled on a blank page where smoke rose up with the smell of a burning roast. By this time, the book was so hot that Jerome didn’t understand why it hadn’t been burned to cinders.

“The fire dragon opened his mouth and breathed his flames at the city hall and set it on fire,” said the book.

A blast of heat knocked Jerome back on his pillow as a sheet of fire rose up to the ceiling. Eyes and teeth and a tongue of fire flickered at the boy, knocking him back against the wall. All of the Fire Dragon’s blood-red scales glowed like burning coals and his eyes bubbled like molten lava. Jerome was sure that the attic was about to be burned up in a flash and him with it. But for all the sweat pouring over Jerome’s body from the heat, nothing in the attic seemed to have caught fire in spite of the image of a burning building now visible on the page before him.

“And then the great knight Jessica Delacourt took up her sword and strode out to meet the dragon,” said the book.

As the book spoke those words, Jerome saw the same words appear on the page in a dark red script, and an image of Jessica, looking like a moving illustration in the book, walked out of the city toward the fire dragon, holding up a sparkling sword in her hand.

“The great knight Jessica Delacourt let out a great war cry when she approached the fire dragon,” said the book.

The Jessica in the book let out a cry that hurt Jerome’s ears and, at precisely the same time, an identical cry rang out from below that had to be Jessica’s voice.

“What have I done?” Jerome asked himself.

He was angry enough to throw all four cousins to the most ferocious fire-breathing dragon in the world, but the thought of his cousins actually being devoured by such a beast still horrified him.

“The great Knight Jessica Delacourt waved her sparkling sword at the fire dragon,” said the Book, and the fire dragon turned his fiery face toward Jessica.

“What are you doing now, Book?” asked Jerome

The fire dragon roared so loudly and revealed so many burning teeth that Jerome was sure that Jessica was already history of the cooked and devoured variety.

“And then the great knight Jessica Delacourt cried out to the fire dragon: ‘I’ll cut you to ribbons!’”

As the book spoke the knight Jessica’s words, Jerome heard Jessica yell out the same words from two floors below him.

“What have I done, now?” Jerome asked himself.

“SHUT UP, JESSICA!” yelled the other three cousins as they pounded Jessica’s door so loudly that the attic floor shook.

“Fearlessly, the great knight Jessica Delacourt charged the fire dragon and struck one of its foreclaws with her sparkling sword, said the book. “The dragon swiped at the great knight Jessica Delacourt with his other claw, but the great knight Jessica Delacourt parried it perfectly.

As the book told the story, Jerome saw the action unfold before his very eyes.

“The fire dragon breathed its fire into Jessica’s face, but the great knight Jessica Delacourt did not flinch. The great knight Jessica Delacourt slashed her sword into the fire dragon’s mouth and knocked out a tooth that fell out like a shooting star. The fire dragon reared back and . . .”

Suddenly, Jessica and the dragon were gone. The page was blank and the book had lost its heat just as quickly as it had lost the words and the image. Jerome expected to hear his cousins yell or charge up to the attic, but he heard nothing but the same noise pollution as before.

“Book,” said Jerome, his voice shaking. “What are you doing?”

But the book did not answer.

“Book,” Jerome asked, a bit louder, “What have you done?”

Still no answer.

“Did she kill the dragon?” Jerome asked the book, “or did the dragon kill her?”

The book remained as inert and mute as if it had never spoken. Jerome tried to turn the page back, but no matter how much he tried, the page slipped out of his fingers before he could turn it. He tried to turn to the next page, but the same thing happened.

“Well, what next, Book?” asked Jerome.

Jerome held on to the book tightly, as if that would make the book yield its secrets, but the book said nothing. As time went on, the page began to feel cool, and then it felt cold.

“And then the great knight John Delacourt left the village that was threatened by the fire dragon and he walked to the Frozen Mountains to see the Snow Dragon,” said the book.

As the book spoke those words, the book turned cool and then freezing in a matter of seconds. Jerome thought he saw the faint motion of a mouth and the outline of a pair of eyes appear on the page, and then cursive letters for the words the book was saying materialized in a faint shade of blue. An image of John climbing a steep mountain of ice appeared on the page. At the top of the mountain, a dragon with scales as white as the snow on the mountain was waiting for John. The page became so cold that Jerome tried to take his hands off it, but his hands were frozen onto the book.

 “When the great knight John Delacourt reached the top of the mountain, he sat down in front of the snow dragon,” the book continued.

 When the snow dragon opened its mouth, she revealed long, sharp teeth of icicles that Jerome would have shrunk away from if he weren’t frozen to the book.

 “Would you like to discuss the riddle of the five stars, the nine suns, the four pigs and the twelve whales?” the Snow Dragon asked in a voice that made Jerome think of a glacier made out of whipped cream.

“That riddle has not been brought to my consciousness,” said John. “Bring it on.”

“And so the great knight John Delacourt discussed the riddle of the five stars, the nine suns, the four pigs and the twelve whales with the Snow Dragon. This riddle was so long and hard for both of them, that they discussed the riddle for a longer time than either could reckon. So long was the unreckoned time that the great knight John Delacourt and the Snow Dragon forgot all else in their mutual absorption with the riddle of the five stars, the nine suns, the four pigs and the twelve whales. And so the frost on the mountain deepened around the Snow Dragon and the great knight John Delacourt. . .”

As Jerome read and listened to those words, a block of ice formed around John and the Snow Dragon until they were completely encased in ice. Then the image faded. The ice on the book melted without a trace and the book returned to a normal temperature. Jerome blew hard on his chapped hands, but they did not recover from the cold so quickly. The attic felt quieter, but the conflicting music from below was blaring just as much as ever. This time, nobody had screamed. Nobody was running up to the attic. Jerome shook his head. He doubted that anybody in the world would miss John if he were gone for good.

“Well, Book,” said Jerome. “That takes care of two of them. What about the other two?”

Jerome was surprised that he no longer felt any guilt for what was happening to his cousins. It was enough to make him wonder if the Snow dragon had bitten his heart with her icy teeth. Jerome looked over at the milk-soaked baloney sandwich on his desk and his stomach turned. At that moment, he didn’t think he would ever have an appetite for food ever again.

“Why don’t you get James next?” Jerome suggested to the book.

Nothing happened for several minutes, as if the book were slow to take up his suggestion. But finally, Jerome began to hear the distant sound of hoofbeats and the book began to shake in his hands. The page suddenly flipped over and Jerome saw a monstrous chestnut horse galloping across a grassy plain. It had a long and thick neck and a shaggy head such as Jerome had never seen on a horse.

“Yahoo!” cried the horse.

“Yahoo!” James chorused from the room below the attic.

At the same time, James appeared in the picture, running toward the horse as the horse galloped up to him. When the two met, James shook hands with the horse. But that was impossible! Only then did Jerome realize that the horse’s long, thick neck was the bronzed and hairy torso of a man and that the shaggy mane was a thick head of hair and an even thicker beard.

“And then great knight James Delacourt, fleeing the town threatened by the fire dragon greeted the centaur ,” said the book in its growly narrative voice as thick, dark brown letters appeared on the page. “The centaur greeted the great knight James Delacourt in return.”

“Would you like the wildest ride through the earth and under the earth that every you have had in your life?” the centaur asked James in a booming as he trotted in a circle around the boy.

“Yahoo! You bet!” James replied as he ran a circles around the centaur.

“Then rise up to my sturdy rideable back!” said the centaur.

The centaur leaned over his human torso and gave James a hand to help him get up on his back.

“Yahoo! Yahoo!” cried the centaur and James with the sound of James’ voice seeming to come both from the book and from below the attic.

Almost immediately, there was a loud pounding on James’ door.

“WILL YOU PLE-E-E-E-ASE STOP YOUR YELLING?” Jennifer yelled.

“As soon as the great knight James Delacourt was on the centaur’s back,” the book continued, “the centaur galloped away at a speed faster than the fastest wind.” As the centaur speeded up, the book shook so hard that it was impossible that Jerome hadn’t lost his grip on it, yet he seemed incapable of letting go of it. The book gave Jerome the feeling that the book was a steering wheel he was holding on to for dear life as it gave him a wild ride all over his bed just as the centaur gave James the wild ride of his life.

“As the centaur gave the great knight James Delacourt the ride of his life through the earth and under the earth,” narrated the book, “he dug his sharp hooves into the earth so deeply that he sent dirt flying in gigantic clouds in all directions. After many hours of riding faster than the fastest wind through the earth and under the earth with the great knight James Delacourt on his back, the centaur had dug such deep crevices in the earth that the earth split apart and the centaur with the great knight James Delacourt on his back plunged into the abyss that his journey had made.”

“YAHOO-O-O-O-o-o-o-o,” Jerome heard James and the centaur yell, their voices fading, until the words disappeared, the page turned blank, and the book stopped shaking so suddenly that Jerome almost fell off his bed.

“I guess that takes care of that rascal,” Jerome murmured to the book. “Three down, one to go.”

Just knowing that three of his cousins were caught inside the book made the house feel strangely quiet to Jerome even though the sound mixture of the CDs was still as loud as ever. Jerome wondered if Jennifer even knew that her sister and brothers were gone and that she was next. He wondered if Jennifer would come and yell at him or come upstairs to ask him if he knew what was going on, or if he could help. Perhaps if Jennifer asked nicely, Jerome would be nice to her, and he would take back the request he’d just made to the book to take care of Jennifer as well. But Jerome had not heard the slightest indication that Jennifer was even downstairs since she had pounded on his brother’s door.

“Got one more trick up your sleeve?” Jerome asked the book.

But the book said nothing, and it continued to feel normal to the touch, as if it were just a normal, dust-covered blank book. Jerome tried to turn it a page forward, but again, he was all thumbs, and he couldn’t do it.

“Maybe Jennifer won’t get carried off by a fantasy creature after all,” said Jerome with a shrug.

But just as he said those words, his hands tingled so sharply that he almost dropped the book.

“Now what you are doing, Book?” Jerome asked it.

The tingling became so intense, Jerome could hardly stand it but, as before, he could not have let go of the book to save his life. A purplish light shimmered on the page and a ripple of white worked its way into the purplish design. A sparkling golden rod sprang out of the whiteness and then a pair of diamond eyes stared into Jerome’s heart.

“COOL!” Jerome exclaimed in a whisper.

Seeing a glowing rock form under the unicorn, Jerome stepped forward to approach it.

“Can I ride you?” Jerome asked, his voice still hushed.

Jerome tried to take a step nearer to the unicorn, but his foot stopped in mid-air and would not move either forwards or backwards.

“Then the great knight Jennifer Delacourt glided on to the rock and threw her arms around the unicorn’s neck and looked into her face with stars in her eyes,” said the book as sparking diamond-shaped words shaped themselves on the page when Jennifer appeared.

“Would you like to ride me to the skies and the heavens, and up to the stars and the suns?” asked the unicorn in a voice that sounded like the dew of morning.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” said Jennifer, her own voice subdued by the unicorn.

Jerome thought he heard Jennifer’s voice faintly from below him as he heard her speak in the book, but he wasn’t sure.

“Then the great knight Jennifer Delacourt mounted the unicorn and the unicorn flew up among the stars and the suns in the heavens,” said the book.

“No!” Jerome cried. “Take me with you!”

But already, the unicorn and Jennifer were disappearing into the night sky.

“And as the great knight Jennifer Delacourt flew among the stars on the unicorn’s back,” said the book, “the stars and suns flew away from the great knight Jennifer Delacourt and her unicorn until they had flown so far apart that they could no longer be seen from the earth. And yet the unicorn and the great knight Jennifer continued their pursuit until they, two, were lost in the darkening sky.”

As the book said those words, Jennifer, the unicorns, and the stars winked out, leaving Jerome in darkness. He tried to turn the page back, but he couldn’t. He tried to turn the page forward but, again, he couldn’t. With no lights on, Jerome could hardly see anything, but he didn’t care. He cried because the unicorn had not wanted him.

“I didn’t deserve it anyway,” Jerome said to himself. “But Jennifer didn’t deserve it, either. So how come she gets the unicorn and I don’t?”

Jerome sat in silence for what seemed a long time. He never even thought of looking at his watch. He didn’t care about time anymore. He didn’t care about anything. It occurred to him that he had the house to himself. He could go back downstairs to the kitchen and eat anything he wanted. But he wasn’t hungry.

“Hey Book,” Jerome finally said. “What about me?”

But the book did not answer, and it felt just like a heavy book, nothing more, nothing less.

“Is there a fabulous creature for me?” Jerome asked the book.

Still no answer. Jerome sat still on his bed with the book in his lap until he thought he was turning into a statue and he would never move again in his life. He thought of his cousins some more. Each of them had a fabulous beast, but each was lost in one way or another. None of their stories were finished.

“Are all of them stuck where they are?” Jerome asked the book.

The book said nothing, but Jerome knew the answer to that question. He thought of how much fun it might be to fight a fire dragon, discuss riddles with a snow dragon, ride a centaur through and under the earth, or fly into the heavens on a unicorn, but then Jerome thought of how frightening it could be for his cousins if they never came back. Then he began to think about how they must feel about suddenly losing their mother and practically losing their father, too, because he no longer had time to come home.

“Once upon a time,” said Jerome. Then he paused and tried to think of what his story should be. “Once upon a time there was . . . There was a . . . There was this rotten kid named Jerome Malory who did some rotten things to some rotten kids, but doing those rotten things only made him feel more rotten himself. After he’d done the rotten things he’d done, this rotten kid wanted to do something about what he’d done, but he didn’t know what to do about it because the book wouldn’t tell him.”

Jerome sat and waited for the book to take the hint and continue the story, but it remained silent.

“Once upon a time,” Jerome repeated, “there was . . . there . . . was . . . Once . . . Once upon a time . . .”

“There was the great knight Jerome Malory,” the book continued, “The great knight Jerome Malory walked across the abyss opened up by the centaur ridden by the great knight James Delacourt and the unicorn ridden by the great knight Jennifer Delacourt.”

The words spoken by the book appeared in a dark gray script against a black background that was hard to read, but Jerome had no reason to try and read the words anyway, because he was himself walking on or in the darkness. Although he felt nothing supporting his feet, he didn’t feel that he was falling. There didn’t seem to be anything for him to fall from or into.

“That rotten kid Jerome Malory walked and walked,” said Jerome, “but he didn’t know where he was going, and he didn’t why he was going there anyway, and, besides, he didn’t know what he was going to do when he got there.”

“Neither did the great knight Jerome Malory know what he was looking for,” said the book, “nor did he know what he would do if he found what he did not know what he was looking for.”

“That’s for sure,” said Jerome. “I’ll never find anything here. It sure doesn’t look like there’s anything to find around here, whatever this here is.”

“And as the great knight Jerome Malory walked in the darkness, hoping to discover what he was looking for, although he did not know what it was he was looking for,” said the book, “a large gray shape emerged from the darkness, and in the middle of the large gray shape were two pale white eyes that stared at the great knight Jerome Malory like two moons.”

“Woah!” cried Jerome. “Who are you?”

“As soon as the great knight Jerome Malory asked that question,” said the book, “the dark gray shape with the two pale white eyes glowing like two moons took on the form of an animal that the great knight Jerome knew not whether it was a wolf as tall as himself, or a dog as tall as himself.”

When the animal that could have been either a dog or a wolf opened is mouth and showed its many rows of teeth that could tear Jerome in pieces in one second flat, Jerome shrank back and screamed.

“That is a fine way to greet the one whom you were looking for, the one who will take you to that which you are looking for,” said the animal in a deep voice that seemed to rise up from the depths of the darkness.

Something in the animals’s voice reassured Jerome. That, and the fact that the dog hadn’t chewed up his head when it could well have done that if it was so inclined.

“Uh—sorry,” said Jerome. “You startled me. What are you? Are you a wolf or a dog?”

The animal grumbled thoughtfully for a moment.

“The great knight Jerome Malory asked the wolf-dog what he was,” said the book, and the wolf-dog said: ‘I believe I am a wolf and I believe I am a dog. Will that do?’”

“Yes, of course,” said Jerome.

“And then the wolf-dog asked the great knight Jerome Malory: ‘now, will you journey with me until we find what we must look for and find?’”

“Yea, sure,” said Jerome. “I mean: Yes, I will be—I’m pleased to go with you.”

 “Come with me,” said the wolf-dog.

Without waiting for Jerome to reply, the wolf-dog moved on ahead in the darkness. Jerome hurried to catch up to him and then keep up with him. As they walked, Jerome heard the book telling his story from a great distance, but he paid it little heed, knowing there was no need either to read the story or hear it, now that he was himself a part of it.

Jerome’s feet did not hurt from the journey across the darkness, neither did he grow weary. He lost all sense of time until he fell into a stupor that he felt sure would go on forever. The wolf-dog paused many times to sniff the darkness before moving on, each time seeming not to have found what he was looking for. Finally, at long last, the wolf-dog sniffed a piece of darkness for a very long time. Then he raised his head and fixed his pale white eyes glowing like two moons on Jerome.

“Do you smell something this time?” Jerome asked the wolf-dog.

“Yes, I detect the scent of what might be that which we seek,” the wolf-dog replied. “Put your hands under my front paw and I shall dig for it.”

It felt funny for Jerome to put his hands underneath the wolf-dog’s front feet as he was told to do since it all felt like empty air to him, but he did it. Once Jerome’s hands were in place, the wolf-dog started digging right above Jerome’s hands with one of his forepaws. Dark as everything was, Jerome thought he saw clouds of darkness fly behind the wolf-dog as clouds of dirt fly in a garden when a dog digs up a bone. The wolf-dog continued his digging until Jerome’s arms ached from holding his hands in the same position, but he knew that whatever the wolf-dog was digging for was important, and he couldn’t take a chance on losing it.

Suddenly, Jerome felt something moist in his hand, like a pool of thick liquid, something that touched off a gentle flood of well-being throughout Jerome’s body. What Jerome saw in his hand was a small, bright golden object. Within seconds, the object became solid until it felt something like a coin.

“Do you have the seed?” the wolf-dog asked Jerome, looking up at him with his pale white eyes glowing like two moons.

“Yes, I have it,” Jerome replied, assuming that the wolf-dog knew what he was holding.

“Come with me,” said the wolf-dog.

The wolf-dog padded his way further into the darkness with Jerome at his side. The seed vibrated in his hand, as if it were already trying to break out into a growing thing. Jerome tried to look at the seed, but he could not see it clearly. All he could make out was the bright golden color itself that seemed to change shape slightly from one second to the next. Looking at it made Jerome so dizzy that he finally gave it up and just walked on with the wolf-dog.

As before, the wolf-dog paused to sniff at the darkness several times until, at long last, he sniffed at a patch of darkness for some length, and then began digging. Jerome stood there, bemused, as the clouds of darkness shot up once again like sprays of dirt. When he had finished, the wolf-dog looked up at Jerome with his pale white eyes glowing like two moons.

“Plant the seed here,” said the wolf-dog.

Jerome carefully placed the seed in the darkness where the wolf-dog had been digging.

“Here?” he asked before letting go of it.

“Yes, exactly where you now hold it,” said the wolf-dog.

Jerome let go of the seed and the wolf-dog scraped the darkness with a hind foot until the seed disappeared. When he had finished, the wolf-dog stepped a small distance and looked again at Jerome with his pale white eyes glowing like two moons.

“Now we shall watch,” the wolf-dog.

Jerome moved back until he was again next to the wolf-dog. They both waited for some time, but nothing happened. Then the wolf-dog pricked his ears as if he had heard something. Jerome strained his ears and then he, too, heard a low humming sound. When he saw the first thin streak of gold rise out of the darkness, Jerome let out a whoop of joy, but when he saw how still the wolf-dog stood as he stared at the streak of gold with his pale white eyes glowing like two moons, Jerome became quiet as well and watched in silence.

“And the great knight Jerome Malory and the wolf-dog beheld a slender shoot spring forth even as its roots dug themselves down into the darkness,” said the book. “Then the great knight Jerome Malory and the wolf-dog beheld the trunk expanding in girth so that it gave forth branches which, in their turn, gave out more branches which, in their turn, gave out further branches.”

Jerome thought his mouth would never close; the sight was so overwhelming. Before he knew it, the tree’s branches and roots had spread way beyond what his eyes could see. Then a dark sliver suddenly appeared in the middle of the tree trunk. For a second, Jerome felt a chill of fear that something might destroy the tree just even before it was full-grown.

“But the dark sliver in the golden Web Tree turned into a doorway,” said the book, “and out of the doorway in the golden Web Tree there leaped a golden horse, and riding the gold horse the great wizard Jordan Delacourt.”

The golden horse landed on the ground as it appeared beneath its feet and pranced around the Golden Web Tree with Uncle Jordan on its back. When Uncle Jordan saw Jerome, he stopped the horse with a pat and looked at his nephew with a surprised look.

“Uncle—I’m sorry I—didn’t mean to bother you. . .” Jerome stammered, as all he could think of was the greeting Uncle Jordan had given him at the airport.

But Uncle Jordan did not look like the cross and impatient man who had met him at the airport.

“Bother me?” Uncle Jordan asked. “I’ve been trapped in that tree that hadn’t been planted for so long, I thought I’d never get out.”

He slid off the horse, went up to Jerome, and gave him a big hug that felt good, but would have been embarrassing if anybody besides the wolf-dog and the golden horse had been around to see it.

“Uncle Jordan,” said Jerome, “How could you be trapped in a tree that wasn’t even planted yet?”

“That shows you how much he knows,” snorted the golden horse.

Uncle Jordan shrugged. “I guess that just shows how trapped I was,” he said. Then Uncle Jordan looked around in every direction. “Uh—Jerome? Do you know where are my kids are by any chance?”

“Uh . . .” Jerome stammered. “Your kids . . . my cousins . . . they’re . . . they’re off in all directions. Jessica’s off fighting a fire dragon, John’s frozen in with a snow dragon, James fell into the earth on a centaur, and Jennifer flew up into the sky on a unicorn.”

“Hmm,” Uncle Jordan grunted. “That sounds about right for each of them.”

“I think it’s my fault they’re gone,” Jerome confessed, “and I don’t know how to get them back. I planted this tree, but that hasn’t helped.”

“That shows you how much he knows,” the golden horse snorted a second time.

“I think I know what to do,” said Uncle Jordan. “Watch.” Uncle Jerome cupped his hands to his mouth and called out: “Hi! Ho! Guess who’s ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-o-o-o-ome?”

Even before Uncle Jordan dropped his hands down to his sides, Jerome saw a bright flash of red in one distant branch of the Golden Web Tree, a pale blue light in another distant branch of the Golden Web Tree, a dark brown shape rising from deep among the roots of the Golden Web Tree, and a white light with a touch of gold way at the topmost branch of the Golden Web Tree.

“And so the fire dragon, mounted by the great knight Jessica Delacourt, came from the farthest eastern branch of the Golded Web Tree, and he brought with him his fire and all of the eastward mountains,” said the book. “And the Snow Dragon, mounted by the great knight John Delacourt, came from the farthest western branch of the Golden Web Tree, and she brought all of her ice and all of the westward mountains, and the centaur, mounted by the great knight James Delacourt, galloped up from the deepest roots of the Golden Web Tree, and he brought with him all of the earth he had scattered, and the unicorn, mounted by the great knight Jennifer Delacourt, flew down from the topmost branch of the Golden Web Tree, and she brought with her all the stars and suns of the sky that had flown away.”

As Jerome’s cousins and their fabulous beasts came into view, the grassy earth the golden horse was prancing on expanded to meet the mountains that the Fire Dragon and the Snow dragon were bringing with them. The stars and a sun brought by the unicorn chased away the darkness around the Golden Web Tree. Where everything had been dark just moments before, the world had become bright and the glare was almost too much for Jerome’s eyes. When the Fire Dragon and the Snow Dragon met, a clear lake formed between them where the water boiled just a little at one end and the water was frozen just a little at the other end. With the sound of thundering hoofbeats, the centaur galloped up the tree roots and the unicorn slid down the tree where they met the golden horse. Jerome looked nervously at his cousins as they all dismounted, but they all ran straight to their father and embraced him one after the other.

“Great Knight Jerome Malory,” said the fire dragon, flames flashing out of his mouth as he spoke, “Thank you for sending me the great night Jessica Delacourt. Never before have I had a greater, friendlier fight.”

“Great Knight Jerome Malory,” said the snow dragon as she licked her frosty scales, “Thank you for sending me the great knight John Delacourt. Never before have I probed a riddle so deeply.”

Great Knight Jerome Malory,” said the centaur, his bearded face beaming and his horse legs prancing, “Thank you for sending me the great knight James Delacourt. Never before have I been driven so far into and under the earth.”

“Great Knight Jerome Malory,” said the unicorn, her eyes sparkling like jewels, “Thank you for sending me the great knight Jennifer Delacourt. Never before have I been inspired to fly so far above all suns and stars.”

“And so, the great wizard Jordan Delacourt, freed of the enchantment of the evil sorceress Jerellyn, led his five great knights back to the ramparts of his enchanted castle,” said the book.

As the book spoke those words, the tree and the landscape surrounding it faded away and Jerome found himself standing on the ramparts of a castle that gave him a view of uptown Manhattan. Uncle Jordan carried the book under his arm, as if it were any other book. All of the fabulous beasts were gone, but Jerome thought he still heard the whirring of dragon wings and the clip-clop of the centaur, the horse, and the unicorn, and he felt the wolf-dog gently rub his fur against his leg. The CDs that Jerome’s cousins had left on were still blaring, but the sounds seemed to come from a distance.

“Well, Jerome,” said Uncle Jordan, still looking much more pleasant than he did at the airport. “I’m afraid I didn’t really welcome you properly.”

“That’s all right,” Jerome muttered with a shrug.

“We didn’t clean this attic for you very well,” said Jennifer. “We’ll get to work on it right away.”

Startled at those words, Jerome looked around him again and realized that the castle ramparts had also disappeared and he and the Delacourts were standing in the attic. The music downstairs sounded louder.

“You can sleep in my room,” James offered. “I like to camp out up here anyway.”

“Doesn’t look like you had much of a repast,” said John as he looked at the baloney sandwich with disgust.

“I’ll fix us up a stir-fry dish to remember,” said Jessica.

A few minutes later, Jerome was in the kitchen, already smelling a dinner he knew he would have a lot of appetite for. Jessica was stirring everything that James and Jennifer and John and Jerome cut up and threw into the wok. Uncle Jordan sat on the kitchen stool with the closed book on his lap.

“Too bad Jerellyn is missing out on this,” said Uncle Jordan wistfully.

All four of Jerome’s cousins paused in their work and looked at each other with sad faces. Knowing how such a story should end, Jerome expected to hear the phone ring, but it didn’t. After a short, wistful wait, all four cousins returned to preparing dinner.

“Do you know how that book got into the attic?” Jerome asked his uncle.

“I bought this Book of Enchantment at a flea market in Germany,” Uncle Jordan replied. “I thought it would liven things up for our family. But when I got home from my trip, my wife, your Aunt Jerellyn, had flown the coop with another man and his kids, and I guess I just put the magic up into the attic and forgot about it until you found the book.”

“I’ll have to take you skateboarding in Central Park,” James offered.

“We’ll take you to the Statue of Liberty,” added Jennifer.

“Would it please you to see the U.N.?” asked John.

“And you simply must see a game at Yankee Stadium,” said Jessica.

“Jerome,” said Uncle Jordan, “I think you’re going to be stuck with seeing all of New York this summer.”

“That’s all right,” said Jerome with a smile.

“And so the four brave knights Delacourt and the brave knight Malory and the great wizard Jordan Delacourt lived happily that summer in New York City,” said the book, “and in everything they saw there, they saw the fire of the Fire dragon, the frost of the Snow dragon, the grandeur of the centaur and luminous beauty of the unicorn.”