Isaac and Ponty played the staring game for a few seconds. Ponty, back to his book state, didn’t move an inch. He hoped he transformed just in time.

“You’re alive.” Isaac said with a long pause.

“No, I’m not.”

“AAAHH!” Isaac was about to run to the door when Ponty spoke again, “No, wait! Don’t go. Please.” Isaac turned, speechless. Against his young mind, he can clearly see a book with a pair of feet and hands, and a face.

“I know this is unusual,” Ponty said with both his hands in the air. “But, I need you to be quiet and calm.” He continued.

Hurried footsteps came into the room and Ponty transformed again. Isaac’s mother, carrying a bath towel, opened the door and asked, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, hit my toe in the cabinet.” Isaac replied with a forced smile.

“Well, your scream sounded more than—such a mess, Isaac Tolling! You clean your room right now1” His mother said.

“Yes, Mama.” He replied and sat on his bed. His pulse was racing. His eyes fixed to the pocketbook. His mother, however, wasn’t leaving. With her arms crossed and her eyebrows higher than their water bill, Isaac had no choice but to clean his room. He picked his three years old toy and placed it on his desk. He knelt again and picked its cracked armour. On his third trip, he picked its tatty sword. His mother watched him in frustration as he picked its cape next. Of course, his motivation entirely depended on his mother’s presence. So, when she left, Isaac returned to his bed again and the floor was just one action figure cleaner.

“Well then, shall we start with introductions?” Ponty began and Isaac moved few inches away from his bed. Ponty reached out his hand and said, “I’m Ponty, a compilation of jokes as you must have noticed.”  He pointed at his cover.

“You really are alive.”

“Hey, we’re past that.” Ponty wiggled his hand, still smiling.

“You are moving.”

“Come on kid, introductions. Okay?” Ponty said, his arm starting to feel numb.

“I’m, I’m Isaac.” He hesitated for a while, but the book’s smile was never fading, so he moved closer to reach its tiny hand, which only covered three of his own fingers. Isaac’s blue eyes widened in disbelief of everything his eyes are seeing now. Ponty stepped on the edge of the desk and said, “Wow, you have beautiful eyes kid.”

“How—Why—I mean—”

“It’s a long story. I need you to get over this quickly, because I’m running out of time and I really need your help.”

“Why? What do you mean? How can I help?”

“Again, long story. Anyway, I need you to help me find 10 other books please.” Ponty pleaded.

While Ponty was trying to fill in Isaac with every detail, he felt Isaac needed to know for him to help their situation. Two books in a regular looking road towards the Ilkrook village, have been buried deep in a muddy puddle.

Passersby, animals, carriages, and trucks loaded with town festival decorations passed and nobody noticed them, because nobody can see them. Their spine, their cover, and their pages broke, tore, and got buried all together as each vehicle passed.

While Ponty was brainstorming with his new friend on how to find 10 books around the village, little did he know that two of those books have stopped moving, have stopped thinking, and have stopped breathing an hour ago.

And in a further distance in the Ilkrook village, there are two more books lying on the floor hoping that everything will be alright, that they didn’t cause Mr. Pax’s death.

Author’s Note: Hello! Thank you for reading. Chapter 6 will be released on June 6. Also, please check out my landing page: https://linktr.ee/msjenjana