The Birthday Party

In which an unexpected present appears.

From the diary of Adele Cutter, Tomekeeper. 
 
    Booker told me that if I write it all down it will make more sense and I'll be able to "put it in perspective."  So, here goes:
 
   Hi.  My name is Adele. I'm thirteen years old and my life is a huge stinking mess. It all started on my birthday.  It's hard to believe that so much could happen in just one week.
   I had a little party.  Nothing fancy, just my four best friends and me.  The guest list included Booker, Roger, Amy, and Tessi.  I was feeling like a lame-o at first because only total nerds have birthday parties with less than a zillion guests attending, but looking back I'm glad there were so few witnesses to the craziness.
   It started out normally.   We decided to have the party outside on that cloudless June seventeenth.  Happy Birthday was sung. Cake was cut. Presents were opened.  My mother and her boyfriend stood around awkwardly taking pictures. My friends and I were all hanging out by the pool after the major festivities.  Mom and Ned had finally put the camera away and gone back into the house so those of us who were from this millennium could enjoy ourselves without the looming threat of parental embarrassment.
  We were just gabbing about how school would be the upcoming year, our last at Gladville Middle School.  Crayons were melting on the sidewalk in the late June sun and I was itching for a dip, so we all decided to get in  the pool.  All of us except for Booker, that is...he...well, just a sec.  I'll get to him, I swear.  Anyway, Roger, Amy and Tessi dove in and were all splashing around.

"Come on," shouted Roger, "Let's play chicken!"  Roger and I were undefeated champions.  He was the only true jock in our circle and his beefy arms could have held all four of us aloft. With my killer strategy and his muscle no team could stand before us.
   I wheeled Booker over to the edge so he could at least dip his toe in if he wanted.  Did I mention he was in a wheelchair?  Yeah, so, I was all set to dive in when the sky got all funny.  I'd say that it turned reddish orange for about half a second, but that isn't quite what happened.  It was more like the sky had always been that color and I just noticed for the first time.  I thought it was the sun in my eyes at first, but as I looked around I noticed that everything had a strange vermilion hue (thank you Booker, for the thesaurus) to it.  Then, just like that the sky and everything else snapped back to normal.  I would have thought I was just losing my mind, except everyone else noticed it too and we all began staring at the sky and into the clouds.

Tessi broke the silent confusion.

"Where did that come from?" she asked, "It wasn't there a minute ago."
  
   We all turned to look.  A box was just sitting on the gift table.  It covered half of the table and was almost a foot tall.  Curious, I climbed down from the diving board and saw that it was a plain, smooth, wooden box.  The only marking on the entire surface was an inscription carved in fine letters:
 
For Adele
From Uncle Zino, Tomekeeper
 
"Who's Uncle Zino?" Booker asked, peering over my shoulder.
 
"What's a Tom-peekker?" asked Tessi.
 
   I didn't have an answer for either of them, but my curiosity was all 'riled up' as my mom likes to say.  I put my hands on the box and lifted the top.  It looked like heavy wood, but lifted with ease. 

Inside was a book.  A really big book.  Its cover was thick and covered in gibberish. I don't know what language it was.  I couldn't even make out the letters.  Booker said it wasn't  Hebrew, Latin, or Sanskrit or any other language he has ever seen before..  If he doesn't recognize it then it must be something really strange. 
   I flipped open the cover of the book hoping to find some kind of explanation.  Instead I saw a strange drawing.  It was the head of a fat man with pointy ears like an elf.  He had a trim beard and shiny black hair.  His red eyes...well, they weren't red because the drawing was just in black, but somehow they still felt red to me...like they were burning a hole in me.  To one side was what looked like a bull with enormous horns and to the other a goat.  Below the head was a snake, I think.  Or maybe it was a dragon.  There was nothing written on the page, but something about that picture made me shudder.  I turned the page as quickly as I could.  The next page looked like an encyclopedia entry.  There were headers and drawings with captions and columns of text like an encyclopedia, but it was it  all in the same gobbledeygook language as the cover.
   Nestled between the pages, though was a little yellow piece of notepaper.  The words written on it were in ball point pen and in plain English.  It read:
 
Adele,
 
  You are certainly wondering who I am and what is this strange grimoire.  I wondered the same thing when I acquired the Tome of Asmoday many years ago.  More will be revealed to you, but now there is very little time.  The tome is written in the same script as the Voynich Manuscript and is therefore completely indecipherable even by the best cryptologists in the world.  You will not understand a word of it without the glass.  Luckily for you the glass has been missing for decades.  I think you are safer not knowing at this time.  For now all I can give you is my insistence that you must keep this book in a safe place (especially away from  Asmoday himself) and keep yourself safe.  Beware the demon of wrath.  He is a prince of lies and can assume many shapes and names.  Mr. Tinderhock will help you.  You may trust him as I have.  I have instructed him to contact you soon and ensure your safety as well as the book's.
 
Fare you well. my niece.  Though we have never met I KNOW that you are capable of this charge.
 
Your Uncle Zino
 
 
PS:  No matter what you must remain true to your friends.
 
 
 That was it.  No explanation.  Nothing.  Who was Asmoday? What was 'the glass'?  What was this book all about and most of all, who the heck was 'Uncle Zino'?
 
"Guys", I said, "What the heck is this?  Some sort of birthday prank?
 
"Yeah", said Booker, "it was Roger who figured out how to make the sky turn red, but Tess and I were the ones who built an ancient grimoire out of old bits of newspaper and popsicle sticks."   He has a tendency to be a bit sarcastic.
 
"Grim-what?" asked Tess as she flipped through the pages of the massive book.
 
"A grimoire is a book of magic..."  Booker wheeled himself over to the table so he could get  a better look, "Whatever this thing is, it looks %100 for real.  Maybe you should find out about this uncle from your Mom." 
 
"Adele", Amy finally spoke, "Honey...this is nuts.  Magic books, imaginary uncles...Booker might be gullible enough to fall for it, but not me.  Someone is trying to play you for a fool."

I looked at my friends.  Tessi shrugged and turned away from the book to examine the remains of the birthday cake instead.  Booker was eyeing the book like it was a used car he may purchase.  Roger just sat on the lawn with that sweet dopey expression on his face staring into the sky.  Amy grabbed me by the hand and took me aside.
 
  Amy and I have been friends since the fourth grade.  She was the new kid and I was the only who didn't call her by the her cruel childhood nickname.  We sat down to lunch  together and that was that.  I helped her understand fractions since she was a few months behind on school and in return she punched Russel Scully in the face (long story).  To this day we take care of each other a lot.  

 

"Addy, seriously," she was the only one who could get away with calling me Addy, "this is a joke...or a scam or something.  You can't trust some guy who writes you a letter out of the blue and pretends to be your relative.  He's a con-man or worse, I just know it.  He's probably Nigerian!"

 

She was being over protective, but I agreed with her.  This book was a whole aquarium full of fishy.  

 

"I'm going to ask my mom what she knows about Uncle Zino."

 

    

Author's Note

I have rewritten much of this prologue and am listing it here as new.