I could feel myself blush. “The emu. I named her that because I was tired of staring at her and just thinking of her as the emu.”
“Oh, okay.” Kristy flicked her wrist in the air. “Go on.”
“Well, I noticed some huge red berry stains on the drive, just inside the gate and on the public side of the drive. I know they weren’t there on Friday because I spent Friday afternoon watching her and staring at her pen.”
“This is a mystery,” Kristy murmured.
“One that the BSC could probably solve,” I said. “Most of us are there every day —”
“And since we love animals,” Dawn cut in, “we could be doing something to help them.”
“While you are observing the animals be sure to keep a close watch on people,” Kristy directed. “Make a note of anyone doing anything suspicious. Keep track of the time that you saw them as well as the location.”
“We should also make a note of the location of any bushes with red berries,” I said.
“Ah! Here it is!” Claudia exclaimed suddenly. She held up an open shoebox with a bag of Oreos tucked inside. “Cookies, anyone?”
We passed the shoebox around the circle, each of us taking a cookie.
Kristy took a bite of hers and mused, “I wish my group was going to the zoo. I spent the weekend watching Shannon. I had no idea she did so little with her day. Basically, she drinks a lot of water, with huge strings of slobber hanging from her mouth —”
“Ew!” we all cried, wrinkling our noses. “Gross!”
Kristy ignored us. “Then she wanders from room to room looking for playmates. Then she flops down in the middle of doorsills where people have to step over her. The high point of her day is barking at the mailman.”
“It’s not too late to change your project,” I said. “You could join us at the zoo.”
“I can’t,” Kristy said, taking another cookie. “Because of Stacey and Lauren, remember?”
“Maybe Lauren and Stacey want to change, too,” Claudia suggested.
“That would mean talking to Stacey,” Kristy said. “And then, if she didn’t want to change, I’d have to argue with her. No thanks.”
Mallory, whose backyard backs up to Stacey’s backyard, asked, “How long do you think we can go on not speaking like this?”
Kristy pursed her lips. “Until she decides to apologize.”
“Which will be never,” Claudia said. “I don’t think Stacey feels that she owes anyone an apology.”
Kristy shrugged. “Then we could go on forever.”
That was a depressing thought. So depressing that for a full minute no one spoke. We just sat with our shoulders slumped, thinking about not ever speaking to Stacey again.
Luckily, the phone rang and we had to concentrate on work. Jessi took a job sitting for the Braddocks and then Shannon scheduled a job watching the Gianellis.
I had wanted to talk more about the mystery and discuss my Logan vs. Alan problem, but I never had a chance. The rest of the half hour was completely taken up booking jobs.
* * *
On Tuesday afternoon at the zoo I noticed some new people on the staff. All of them carried walkie-talkies and wore navy blue blazers with the bright yellow Bedford Zoo patch on the breast pocket.
“Security has been tightened,” Alan commented, as Howie and I joined him at a picnic table in the snack area. “I’ve counted at least four new employees.”
So the zoo officials thought somebody had let Edith out, too. That made me more determined to find out who had done it.
Meanwhile, Howie was digging around in his pocket. “I can’t believe it,” he muttered. “I just can’t believe it.”
“You can’t believe what?” Alan and I asked at the same time.
“I only have a quarter. A soda at this joint costs a dollar. That’s a rip-off.”
“Maybe that’s their way of paying for the exhibits,” I suggested as I rummaged in my backpack for some change. “The entrance fee is so low that they have to make up for it by charging a dollar for a Coke.”
Alan emptied his backpack onto the table. “I’ve got half a stick of gum, one rubber band, my zoo key, ten pennies, two nickels, and a quarter.”
Howie’s pockets contained one quarter, an old movie ticket stub, several nails, his zoo key, a rabbit’s foot, and a neon green yo-yo.
When I emptied my pack onto the table, it really got silly. A comb, three nickels, two quarters, my zoo key, a cat keychain, several pencils, and two erasers.
“What is this, a rummage sale?” Claudia asked, joining us at the picnic table.
“We’re trying to come up with a dollar for a soda,” I explained.
Claudia studied the pile of items and coins on the table. “It looks like you can buy one Coke and three straws. And then make a great collage with the rest of that stuff.”
Alan picked out the change. “I’ll buy.”
While he stood in line at the snack bar, Howie and I started gathering up the rest of our belongings.
Suddenly, Claudia was tugging on my sweater. “There they are,” she hissed. “Over there.”
“Who?” I asked.
“The matching sweatsuit spies,” Claudia replied.
We didn’t get a chance to hear what they were saying because Dawn and the Arnold twins suddenly appeared.
“Look!” Carolyn cried in a voice that could shatter glass. “Those people are wearing matching outfits and they’re not even twins.”
Howie was the one who had noticed them in the first place, so he was as interested in their reappearance as we were. He grabbed the rest of his things and stuffed them back in his pockets. “Which way are they headed?” he asked loudly.
Claudia’s face was frozen in a smile and she barely moved her lips as she said, “Right this way!”
The two people were having an intense discussion over some notes they’d made on a piece of paper.
Now all of the customers at the snack bar turned and stared at them.
“Very subtle,” Dawn cracked. “Do you want to shout a little louder?”
“Howie, our soda’s here,” I said, changing the subject. “Let’s drink it before the ice melts.”
Alan, Howie, Dawn, and the twins sat down at the picnic table.
As Marilyn scooted onto our bench she said, “Those protester people are here again.”
I nodded. “They’re here every day.”
“I guess these animals mean a lot to them,” she said.
“I wonder how far they’ll go,” Dawn said, handing each of the twins a small carton of apple juice from her bag. “When we went through the front gate, I talked to one of them about the emu. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised, or even upset, that one of the zoo animals had gotten out and was running free.”
“Maybe he knew it was going to happen,” I suggested. “He could have been part of the plot.”
“What plot?” Howie asked.
“The plot to free the animals,” I said. Then I turned to Dawn. “I hope you remember what he looks like. He could be a suspect.”
Dawn nodded. “I’ll write it down. Tall and thin with red moustache.”
Claudia, who had gotten herself an ice-cream cone, finished it, and returned to the table. “Well, back to work,” she said.
Alan, who had taken several sips of our shared Coke, stood up also. “Today I’m watching the emu. I think I’ll take a look at how she handles the stress of glimpsing freedom and then having it ripped away from her.”
“That sounds grim,” I said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to study the bears or seals?”
“Oh, no,” Alan said with a sly smile. “Besides, I have a feeling I’m going to make some prize-winning observations today.”
“What makes you think that?” Dawn asked, taking a sip of her own juice.
Alan wiggled his eyebrows. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He looped his backpack over one shoulder and sauntered off.
“Well, Howie?” I
said, facing him. “Which do you want — the bears or the seals?”
“Bears,” Howie replied, taking a final loud slurp of our soda. “I’m really starting to like those guys.”
“Then I’ll take the seals,” I said, grabbing my backpack. “This should be fun. Catch you guys later.”
Dawn waved good-bye. “Don’t forget to check the bushes,” she reminded me. “And watch for any suspicious people.”
I gave her a thumbs-up. I had every intention of checking for berry bushes. In fact, I’d already decided to take the long way to the seals. That way I could have one more look at Edith the emu’s pen.
Alan had a few minutes’ head start on me, but I fully expected to catch up with him at the emu pen. When I got there, though, he was nowhere to be seen, which was strange, since he had done that little eyebrow wiggle, saying he was going to be making some prize-winning observations about emus. I followed the fence along the entire perimeter of the emu enclosure. No Alan.
But I did discover something else. Where the emu fence bordered the primate area was a large cluster of bushes. Red berry bushes, to be exact. Some of the lower branches were quite near to the ground. I wondered if they were low enough to have been walked on. As I bent down to examine them more closely, several of the new employees in blue blazers went running by.
“We’re over by the primates, base,” one of them said into his walkie-talkie. “We’re coming on the double to help with containment.”
Something was up. I decided to follow them, to see what the commotion was about. The men hurried around the side of the primate enclosure, where Mojo and James were on display, then hurried down a sidewalk leading toward the African savannah exhibit.
I wondered if one of the elephants was having a problem. But no, the men hurried past the elephant barns and amphitheater, heading toward the giraffe house.
A crowd had already gathered. Several of the new security people were setting up a barricade with yellow sawhorses. Mrs. Wofsey was there, speaking to the onlookers in a steady, firm voice.
“Please, everyone, stay back,” she ordered. “Giraffes may look harmless but if they become frightened or angry, they can be quite dangerous.”
Two zookeepers appeared, holding long ropes which were loosely draped around the neck of the giraffe ambling along between them. She was about fourteen feet tall and towered above everyone. If I hadn’t known the giraffe had escaped, I might have thought the three of them were out for an afternoon stroll.
“Here you are, Geraldine,” Mrs. Wofsey said in a reassuring voice. “Back home, safe and sound.”
Geraldine’s eyes darted back and forth as she spied the large crowd milling behind the barriers. Her nostrils flared several times, but she made no attempt to kick or run. She waited patiently as the keepers opened the gate leading into the corral. Several other zookeepers were waiting for her inside with a bucket of oats. They used a long stick to lift the bucket up to the feeding trough, which was attached to a pole.
The moment Geraldine spied the food, she trotted into the corral. Instantly, the gate was shut behind her and Mrs. Wofsey breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, now, that’s that,” she said to the crowd. “I guess, since it was such a nice day, Geraldine thought she’d take herself out for a little stroll.”
This drew a chuckle from the crowd.
“Rest assured, folks,” Mrs. Wofsey continued, “the Bedford Zoo will not let an incident like this happen again.”
But how will they stop it? I thought. Already two animals had been set free. How many more would escape before they discovered whodunnit? As the crowd dispersed, I noticed something odd. Marilyn Arnold was standing by herself near the gate to the giraffe house. She was looking guiltily over one shoulder. If she weren’t so young, I might have thought she had something to do with the escape. I decided I’d better keep an eye on her.
“That was pretty exciting, wasn’t it, Marilyn?” I said, joining her at the gate.
Marilyn nodded sadly. Her chin was quivering as if she were about to cry.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She pointed to the giraffe, who had devoured the oats and was now looking over the fence at us. “Geraldine looks so sad,” Marilyn murmured. “I wish she didn’t have to live in that cage.”
I draped my arm over Marilyn’s shoulder. “I wish that, too. But these people seem very kind. Look, the zookeeper is scratching her behind the ear with that long brush. Geraldine seems to like it.”
Marilyn shrugged. “Maybe. But it still is sad.”
“Come on, let’s go find Dawn,” I said. “I’m sure she is wondering where you are.”
“Dawn and Carolyn are watching the monkeys. I just couldn’t go there.”
“We’ll walk back,” I said, already guiding her to the primate enclosure. “Then you and I can wait outside.”
We ran into Howie and Alan on the way.
“I looked for you at the emu pen,” I said to Alan. “But you weren’t there.”
“Uh, I was with Howie,” Alan explained. He seemed very nervous. “We decided to watch the seals. They were tossing a ball around and being really squirrelly.”
“It’s too bad you missed all the excitement,” I said. “One of the giraffes escaped from her cage.”
“What?” Howie gasped. “Did they have to tie her down and sedate her with one of those tranquilizer guns? That must have taken a lot of guys.”
“I think you’ve been watching too many safari movies,” I said with a laugh. “Two of the keepers just walked her back into the corral. I guess they were lucky she didn’t fight. Mrs. Wofsey said giraffes can be pretty fierce if they’re upset.”
“Marilyn!” Dawn cried, hurrying to join us. Her face was red from running. “Where have you been? Carolyn and I have been looking for you everywhere.”
“I was watching the giraffe,” Marilyn replied.
Dawn turned to me and said stiffly, “Would you watch Carolyn for a moment? Marilyn and I need to have a very serious talk.”
She took Marilyn by the hand and led her to the nearest empty bench. I couldn’t hear what Dawn was saying but I could guess from their body language. Dawn’s face was tense and she was talking a mile a minute, while Marilyn stared down at her hands, her head bent. Every few moments Marilyn nodded. Dawn was making it very clear to Marilyn that slipping off by herself to explore the zoo was not acceptable.
Suddenly, Howie nudged me with his elbow. Well, nudged is not exactly the right word. Jabbed is more like it. “The weirdos are back,” he hissed.
The weirdos — the couple with the cameras and the matching gray-and-red sweatsuits — weren’t just back, they were standing less than six feet from us, in front of the primate enclosure. They were scribbling furiously on their notepads.
A light bulb went on in my head. This couple was at the zoo when the emu escaped and now here they were again, just moments after the giraffe escaped.
I decided to do a little investigating. Casually I pulled my own notebook out of my pack and, pretending to take notes, stood directly behind the woman.
She’d written strange words such as papio, colobus, and hylobates on her notepad. Beside each word was a dollar amount.
Very odd. The words looked as if they might be Latin but I had no idea what they meant. The dollar figures, however, were in the thousands. One thing was certain — whatever they were writing about was worth a lot of money.
That afternoon I returned home with plenty to think about. Alan and Howie hadn’t been where they were supposed to be. Two people in matching sweatsuits were a bit too interested in the gibbons. And the animals? Well, someone was definitely setting the animals free.
Jessi’s aunt had scheduled her to sit for her brother and sister after school. She hadn’t been gone five minutes before the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Becca called, running to the door. “That should be Charlotte. I asked her to come over to help Free Babar. I hope you don’t mind.”
Becca looks like a miniature version of Jessi, except her eyes aren’t quite as dark and her legs aren’t as long. She’s a sweet girl, kind and thoughtful and a little shy.
Charlotte, who used to be very timid and shy until Stacey helped her become more outgoing, marched confidently through the front door and into the living room. She smiled at Becca, revealing a dimple in each cheek.
“I’m all ready to work,” she said, patting her kitty-cat backpack. The kitten on the pack matched the kitten on the headband holding back her chestnut-brown hair.
“Come on.” Becca gestured for Charlotte to follow her. “We’ll work at the coffee table.”
“I think we should write Free Babar letters,” Charlotte said as she laid some pink stationery on the coffee table. She pulled a pencil box decorated with pink bunnies out of her pack and opened it. “I’ve got purple, red, and blue pens. We can write the letters in one color, then every time we mention Babar’s name, we can decorate it with the other colors.”
Jessi nodded her approval. “That will make his name stand out. But who are we writing to?”
“The people at Valley Park Shopping Center, where Babar is being held prisoner,” she said. “I think they should know how we feel, and why freeing Babar is so important.”
Becca knelt by the coffee table. “People use letters to raise money, too. Maybe we could write to our friends’ parents and ask them to help.”
Squirt, who has been going through the terrible twos even though he’s not two yet, grabbed Charlotte’s pens and ran toward the kitchen with them.
“Squirt!” Becca squealed. “Bring those back.”
Jessi remembered the last time Squirt had gotten his hands on nonwashable pens. He’d drawn purple and green squiggles on the walls and the furniture. He’d even scribbled on the toilet seat. She wasn’t about to let that happen again.
“Hold on, Squirt!” Jessi grabbed him before he could crawl under the kitchen table. She peeled his fingers off of Charlotte’s fancy pens and said, “I have some other pens, just for you.”
“Mine!” Squirt reached stubbornly for the pens.
Jessi sighed and tried to explain things to him calmly. “Those are for Charlotte and Becca. I have some very special pens for you, with much more fun colors. Like pink and orange —”