So now you probably want to feel sorry for Jake. You probably think I’m a jerk for calling him nerd and saying before not to feel sorry for him. Isn’t that a pretty harsh thing to say to the person telling you this story? The person who risk everything to tell the secret? The person who had become an outcast of all librarians to tell this story? You don’t think it’s too harsh? Oh. Well fine then.

So maybe I haven’t been so kind when talking about Jake in the past. But what if I make it up to you and start talking kindly about him in the future? How’s that sound? You remember when I said he was a nerd and a dweeb? Well from here on out my descriptions of him will be kinder—and to be honest I didn’t mean it when I said those things. What I really met was he was a good nerd—he’s not a nerdy-nerd or anything like that. How’s that? Better? They’ll get nicer—I promise.

Okay, okay, so what’s the sad story involving Jake’s parents? Do you really want to know? I mean this whole story has been pretty happy—do you really want me to spoil that tone with something sad? Fine, have it your way, but if you change your mind you can skip ahead to chapter nine, which I assure you will be much happier then this chapter—how could it not?

“There heads exploded.” That’s a direct quote from Jake when I asked him what happened to his parents.

It turns out that’s not exactly what happened. That’s just what Jake was led to believe. Actually his parents died in a fire where they worked. It was very tragic and happened when Jake was only five. He was sent to live with his grandma, who he called, “The meanest person who ever lived.” All she did, according to Jake, was “smoke and complain.” When Jake was nine he got the courage to ask how his parents died, but she refused to tell him.

Jake started to read just to escape her torment. Then one day, she came in his room while he was reading and said, “That’s all you ever do—read. All that information is going to make your head explode. That’s how your parents died—their heads exploded—they had too much information in their heads, and the head just couldn’t hold any more.” And you think I’m mean?

What kind of person says something like that to a nine-year-old?

He wanted to live somewhere else, but his grandma said that she was the only person who would take him in because his other relatives hated his parents, and wanted no part of their, “horrid child.” He didn’t know any different because none of his other relatives would ever visit her.

When Jake was ten, he came home from school and found his grandma dead. She had accidentally swallowed her cigarette and choked to death.

No one came to the funeral. Only a minister and Jake. And in all the confusion of her death, everyone simply forgot about Jake. So he had been living all by himself for the past couple months. He didn’t bother telling anyone, because he figured his grandma was right—nobody would have wanted him. And that’s why he read so much—books kept him company. They were his only friends.

Now to make matters even worse, the part about nobody wanting Jake was partially true. He did not know this then, and I myself learned it only recently, but every single relative was indeed dead—not one aunt, uncle, or even cousin was alive. All were dead from various tragedies of their own.

So is all that sad enough for you? I told you that you should have skipped ahead to the next chapter. I hope it doesn’t make you too depressed to move on. If it does, then it’s your own fault—I tried to warn you to stop, but no you have to find out what happened.

Well even if your own fault for reading this sad sob tale, I promise to make it up to you. Isn’t that nice of me? Now don’t you fill sorry for saying I was mean? No? Well you should.
Anyway, how ‘bout if I tell you how the trees magically (although no magic is involved) grow in the next chapter? Would that make it up to you? Well okay then…read on!