The last time we saw Jake he was under the attack of horrid dialog and overwriting. Not much has changed. It will all be over soon.
Now if you recall, we left Jake starring dead on at the third eye of Gatsby, the supposed monster. And it is in this very same state that we begin this next literary reenactment.

“Where are we?” Jake asked starring amazed at the massive hundred feet trees that were covered with books just outside the vans doors.

“The book tree distribution center.” Gatsby proudly said. His tone seemed friendlier. “My names Gatsby, by the way.”

Jake looked at him confused. He hoped his answer would have answered more than it did.

“Don’t try to understand it.” Gatsby suggested, “Its best if you just take it in. I’ll explain later.”

Jake nodded. “How did you see me hiding behind the tree?”

Gatsby tapped his index finger just above his top eye.

“The eye?”

He nodded. “Actually I noticed you at the library.” Yes, you unfortunately read that correctly—Gatsby could have prevented the entire ordeal had he called him out of the van when he first saw him. Then again, where would the fun have been in that, and more importantly the story, had he done that?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jake asked. Wouldn’t all of you like to know that? Well too bad! As you’ll see from his response, you’re going to have to wait a bit before you get that answer.

“I think you’ve asked enough. It’s my turn to ask questions.” His voice was suddenly stern and hostile again.

Jake nervously nodded—I suppose I should explain, as I have spoken little (actually not at all) of Jake’s nerves. So here you go: he was nervous.

Okay, fine…I’ll be more detailed than that. He was really nervous. How much more detailed do you want? Just think how you would be if you had no idea where you were, there were books growing on trees, and a three-eyed man, who mysteriously knows your name, wants to ask you a few questions. Just dwell on that a few seconds would you?

Did you dwell? Good.

So anyhow, Gatsby got his third eye on him, and starred him down.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“What’d I just say? It’s my turn to talk. Understood?”

Jake nodded quickly.

“All I have are two questions.” Gatsby impatiently explained, “Can you deal with that?”

Jake, who was still partially hiding behind a tree in the van, nodded again quickly.

“Question one: why were you in the van?”

Jake quietly replied, “I’m really sorry—I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just that I saw the trees and I wanted to know how they were growing like they were, so I got closer. Then I saw you coming and I didn’t want to get in trouble, so I hid.”

Gatsby nodded. “Fair enough.” His tone was calm and friendly once more as he asked, “Now, questions two: would you like a tour?” Yes, yes…I’m just as shocked as you that he would offer Jake a tour. I mean he did something wrong—he shouldn’t have been rewarded. Where’s the moral lesson in that? Don’t answer—that question was rhetorical. I feel horrible writing it—I don’t want some reader to believe that if you do something as wrong as what Jake did, then you too will be you rewards. You won’t. Jake just got luck is all, and you’re not going to get lucky.

Do I really need to tell you that Jake nodded yes? Isn’t that a given? Even so I’m going to say it just so you can’t say I wasn’t clear later down the road—so here you go: Jake nodded yes. Really, who wouldn’t want a tour?

I think it’s pretty obvious that this monster fellow Gatsby is not a mean guy, don’t you think? Well Jake didn’t think so. Even though Gatsby was friendly and even offered him a tour, Jake was still confused and nervous, and asked him while climbing out of the van, “You’re not going to hurt me?”

“Hurt you?” Gatsby laughed.

Jake nodded.

“Nonsense. We hardly ever get visitors at the distribution center. I’ve waited all my life to give some one a tour.” He paused, “You know this is exactly why we hardly ever go out. We have one extra eye and suddenly everyone thinks we’re monsters.”

Before I continue with the reenactment, I guess it would hurt to tell you a little about the setting as Jake was seeing it. In the van he had a limited view of the trees. He saw the tall ones with books, but it was not until he got out of the van that he saw just how huge the distribution center was.

Thousands of trees, blooming with unplucked books, were everywhere. Some were over hundred feet tall, while others were only five feet, like the one at the library.

Many of the trees had three-eyed men and women picking off books, and putting them in baskets. They all had smiles on their face, and somewhere even singing a song. They were each dressed differently than Gatsby and Arthur. Gatsby and Arthur had casual clothes on. By causal I mean jeans and a t-shirt—things that aren’t too uncommon to see on people. The tree pickers, however, were wearing shabby dresses that looked homemade.

Even the men wore dresses. That may sound weird, but like I said before, the three-eyed people don’t spend money. For clothes they got a piece of fabric and made their own clothing. Dresses just happened to be the easiest things to make—they only required a person to cut a whole out for the neck and two arms. You don’t even have to measure them. Whenever their dresses got old, they got a piece of fabric, cut out the holes, and in less than thirty seconds the dress was made.

Surprisingly, Jake didn’t seem surprised by the men who wore dresses—or if he was he didn’t think to ask about it. He reasoned that it was not polite to ask Gatsby why the men wore dresses. Like I’ve stressed before, he was a polite little boy—and a nerdy dweeb.

As they walked past the books pickers, the pickers turned, waved, and said, “How’s it going, Jake?” They all were all excited and pointed when they saw him. Children followed Jake from a distance, but they were too shy and nervous to give him any greeting.

“They know me?” Jake asked Gatsby surprised.

He nodded, and tapped above his eye again.

“The eye?”

He nodded.

“Sure comes in handy, doesn’t it?”

“It has its advantages—it isn’t very eye appealing though. To most people, anyway.”

“I don’t mind.”

“That’s because you’re special.” He paused, looked ahead, and pointed at a tall tree full of blue books.

“See that tree?”

Jake nodded. “What about it?”

“That’s going to be a popular book at Christmas. That entire tree is just for people who live in Rhode Island.”

“Wow!” Jake said, “What’s it about?”

Gatsby shrugged. “It’s still a little ripe—the ending isn’t even grown yet. It won’t be ready for another month.” He paused, waved at a ninja standing guard in front of a building (did I mention that a Ralph also handled security at the center? Well he does. The three-eyed people didn’t think it was necessary, but librarians insisted), then added, “I read the first chapter though and from what I can tell, it’s about a group of singing cactuses trying to build the first desert snowman.”

Jake laughed at the idea, and acknowledged, “I can’t wait to read it.”

Gatsby smiled and nodded. “It was quite a long drive up here—would you like some food?”

Jake nodded no. “Maybe a drink though—if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Drink it is.” As he walked him towards the cafeteria for drinks, he explained, “We’ve alerted your library. The librarian is on his way up here as we speak. We need to get you back before it gets too late.” Then he changed tones and said quite oddly and suspiciously, “I wouldn’t want to get your parents concerned.”

Now why he said this oddly, as well as Jake’s reply, I’ll save for anther chapter. This one has gone on long enough already. But don’t close the book and go to sleep (or whatever it is you’ll do when finish reading this book…perhaps you were going to eat peanut but, or perhaps not) just yet. Don’t you want to hear just how these trees grow? And don’t you want to know why the three-eyed man asked the question oddly? Or aren’t you even just kind of curious if I got to the distribution center safe, and if Ralph is still rambling on with constant nonsensical trivia?