And you thought there would be no more surprises. That I’d wrap this thing up without throwing anymore punches. Now don’t you feel silly?! Hey, now that I told you about the peanut butter, perhaps I have a few more surprises up my sleeve. Or perhaps not, but you never know.

Here’s another surprise—do your really think it’s that that simple to make a library tree? Peanut butter! My goodness—if only it were so simple. It’s not. Yeah, so that’s all the ingredients, but it takes more than ingredients to make a pie and more than peanut butter to make a tree. You know why? Oh come now—you’re teasing me—you must be. No? Really? You really, truly don’t know? I thought it was obvious.

It takes directions, of course.

Don’t fret. You’re not alone in your lack of knowledge—Jake was equally confused too, at first. This was what he was thinking when we left the distribution center.

Now I know, I know—left the distribution center. What about the goodbyes, what about the so longs, and hey, what about Ralph? Here’s the thing you need to know about that—I’m not into all that sappy stuff. I think it takes away from an otherwise decent story. I’m sorry if you don’t agree, but don’t worry—I’ve thought about your feelings and decided for the curious mind to include all the sappy stuff in the “Further Explanations and Exaggerations” at the end of the story.

So back to the story. As I was saying, before I had to explain myself to all those who wanted to see a sappy goodbye, Jake a question about the tree, “I have a question.” He softly said looking at the tree, which he had put in the back seat next to Ralph, who seemed unusually tired.

“You have lots of questions.” I sternly said.

He looked sadly down.

“Oh come on.” I said friendlier (yes I can be friendly—when forced) “I didn’t mean anything by it—what’s your question?”

“Well if librarians know what’s in the trees, then why don’t they just grow their own?”

“As if we haven’t tried.”

He looked confused.

“You have to put the right amount of everything in it and you have water it right—too much or too little water and it won’t grow.”

“Do you hate me?” Jake asked suddenly.

“Hates a strong word.”

“Why are you so mean all the time?”

“I’m not mean—why’s everyone say that?”

“Maybe because you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Are.”

“I admit I’m not exactly nice, but do you really think I’m mean.”

Jake nodded.

“I just don’t like people is all—I’m not a people person. I like to be left alone and not disturb.”

“Oh.”

I looked over at Jake, and felt sorry for him (there’s that compassion popping up again). He was starring sadly at his feet. I knew he was probably thinking about home, and I didn’t know what to say to cheer him up. “Do you have any family, then?” Is what came out.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen any of them—only my grandma.”

I nodded. “Well it’s too late to call the authorities to figure the whole thing out. How about if I let you stay at my house? Just for the night, and then in the morning we’ll figure out what to do next. How’s that sound?”

He seemed nervous. I realized in his fear that perhaps I had been mean to him. Like I said many chapters ago, I would change attitudes by the stories end.

“I promise I won’t try to kill you or anything,” I jokingly explained, “I’ll even let you keep Ralph in your room to protect you.”

Jake looked in the back seat where Ralph was staring at the tree quietly mumbling trivia facts about people who had successfully plotted revenge. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

I nodded. “No—no I suppose it’s not.” I thought a moment, “Well how ‘bout if I teach you a few gardening tricks to make sure the tree doesn’t die after it finishes blooming its books. Would that make you want to stay?”

He slowly nodded. “I guess so.”

So there you have—I’d say I’ve changed quite a bit from the beginning of the story. Perhaps I’m still a bit of a jerk, but at least I didn’t just leave Jake stranded on some street corner. But wait, there’s more. What you ask? Well keep reading already. We’re so close to the end (only one chapter) it would be silly to stop reading now. So what do you say? Don’t you want to finish this thing today? I’ll give you a hint of what’s in store for the final chapter: I had to be kind of nice to Jake for a reason—it would help me not feel so guilty when I drop him off with authorities and went about my business, and never thought of you Jake again.