Chapter Three
We made our way through the deadly snake enclosure. We were just about the only ones there. The other kids seemed more interested in the spiders and lizards in the enclosure before this one.
The room was painted black, with eerie red lights glowing, dimly, just enough for us to see the creatures in the habitats and to see the steps in front of us. Snakes slithered in their homes, the sound of their scales creeping in on the silence, making it just that tad bit unnerving.
It was warm in the reptile enclosure, made so as to make it comfortable for the cold blooded creatures. We had shed our jackets and coats the moment we walked in and were hit by the puffs of warm air coming through the air system, all except Smithy, who kept his jacket on.
"You know, I think we’re a bit old for the buddy system, don’t you?" Ned said as we strode along the ample aisle lined with glass tanks; forked tongues flickering at us.
"It works, don’t knock it," I said, examining a Black Mamba. Native to tropical Africa. Highly dangerous.
(Good thing it was behind toughened glass . . .)
Ned shrugged. "Yeah, but . . ."
"We could always leave Ned behind," Brooke cut in, hopefully. "All he does is whine and complain."
I could tell Ned and Brooke were starting a small rivalry. Not something full blown or vicious. Just a subtle digging in. They were not enemies. Far from it. They just . . . I’ll think up a good term later.
"Well, sor-ry," Ned exclaimed, throwing his arms up and folding them across his chest, dramatically. "But I don’t see what the big deal is about the zoo. I mean, come on. We see enough of lions, tigers and bears . . ."
"Oh my," Robyn giggled.
"But we don’t see that much of sea lions, tiger sharks and, um . . . is there an aquatic creature with ‘bear’ in the name?"
That got us thinking. We were quiet as we thought of possible answers. The only sound that met our ears were the flickering of forked tongues, slithering and our own, slightly muffled footsteps on the carpet.
"I have no idea," I eventually said, mostly just to hear my own voice and reassure myself I was still there.
Brooke was going to prove a point, though. The rest of us just let it fly but she was still puzzling over it.
I glanced back and saw Smithy, walking quietly, lost in contemplation, a few steps behind the rest of us. Maybe it was that we had not paired him off. I stuck by Ned, because he was my pal and Robyn and Brooke stuck by each other because they were best friends. That’s what we had always known. But when I looked behind me, I could see that actually, that wasn’t the case. Brooke and Ned were deep in a debate about ‘bear fish’ and Robyn was by me, chatting casually every now and then. Smithy . . . he wasn’t used to being around people: people who were trying to be friendly.
I know little about Smithy. I didn’t then and I still don’t. He came to school at the start of fall and just faded into the background immediately. He never spoke to anyone and everyone else avoided him. He always had a thinking look on his face, like he was working something out constantly. It was as if he had a secret and hadn’t even figured it out himself. He spent all his time figuring out that secret as well as keeping it.
I went back to examining the snakes in the glass tanks and was getting interested in a short, stout snake with a fascinating pattern when suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ned stiffen and stop walking. We all stopped in our tracks.
"Ned, what is it?" I asked.
"Shush," Ned hissed.
We held our tongues. But I couldn’t get what it was he was straining to hear.
"Ned . . ."
I could tell he was serious. Ned rarely has a solemn look on his face so I made sure I paid attention because he was not joking around.
"It’s . . . buzzing. Don’t you hear it?"
I was about to say no, but then I listened and I heard it. Faint, barely there, but I heard it.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
"I hear it, alright," Brooke said. "I wonder where it’s coming from."
We fell absolutely silent, battling to make it out.
"It’s coming from over there," Smithy said, that marking the first time he ever spoke since his introduction that day. He pointed to a spot just above a glass tank containing a deadly python.
Brooke fearlessly stepped forward and examined it. "It’s a . . . bee hive," she declared.
We slowly, cautiously, approached the hive. "What’s a bee hive doing in a reptile enclosure?" Ned wondered.
"I haven’t got a clue," I said, rather distractedly. I had heard another noise, far away, barely audible, and I was somewhat more interested in that. It sounded like tiny footsteps, creeping closer. I just hoped it wasn’t an escaped animal.
"I wonder what kind of bees live here," Brooke mused, gazing at the hive like it was an interesting puzzle she had to solve.
"Obviously ones who enjoy the protection of dangerous reptiles," Ned said. "Can a bee sting a snake?"
"I don’t think they need to," Robyn said. "Snakes aren’t really threats to bees."
Brooke poked the bee hive gently. "How do you think they got here?" she asked.
"Do you think it’s such a good idea to poke it?" Smithy replied.
Brooke lowered her hand, slowly, and clasped it in her other. "I don’t think so," she admitted. "But I don’t think it will anger them much . . ."
As she said it, the buzzing grew louder and more agitated. We all took an instinctive step backwards before they suddenly shot out, hovered in midair like a pepper cloud, trying to work out where to go next, and then darted straight for Ned.
Terror shot through Ned. "AHH!" he screamed and ran for his life down the corridor and out the reptile enclosure. Without realizing, or thinking, he turned and ran into a part of the zoo that was still under construction, flapping his arms wildly to chase away the bees.
"NED! Don’t go there," I called, helplessly.
"We might have to run too," Robyn pointed out, shakily. "Not all the bees went after Ned!"
I spun around in a flash and had a second to take in a larger cloud of aggravated bees shooting out the hive.
"Run!" I yelled, jerking my head towards the exit Ned had taken.
Robyn and Brooke ran. Smithy and I followed behind the girls, waving our arms wildly to stop the bees from stinging them. Smithy was very efficient with his long, skinny arms.
We skidded around corners, jumped over chunks of construction materials and dodged jutting bricks and planks. It was like running through an obstacle course, an upside down one. We did little jumping and more ducking and weaving around hanging wires.
We dodged and skidded, until we came to a dead end in an unfinished hippo habitat with high, bare, white plaster walls like blank canvasses still to be painted. Bare patches of grass scattered here and there where the landscapers obviously hadn’t finished, and a small lake covering most of the ground.
It was a dead end. I could hear the bees, getting closer by the moment, their droning buzzing growing by the second.
"Now where do we go?" I asked the walls.
No answer. Figures.