Authors: Eric Walters
“That was nice of her mother to drive out of the way like that.”
Nick laughed. “She suggested it!”
“But how did she know about …” I let the sentence trail off. There probably wasn’t anybody in our whole area who didn’t know about Mr. McCurdy and his animals. It had been such a big story in the newspapers, then an issue in the election for the mayor, and a big story again when he was finally given permission to keep his animals.
“She’s a nice lady,” Mr. McCurdy said. “She really liked Buddha.”
“She even wanted to go into the cage with him,” Nick added.
“She did?” I asked.
Mr. McCurdy shook his head. “Told her no. Until Buddha knows somebody well it isn’t bright to let them into the cage.”
“But you let me in the cage when I didn’t know him very well,” I said.
“That was different. I knew you and that tiger would get along fine. Now let’s get to that plane before Nick gets what he wants and the two of you have to stay here.”
We started off across the terminal. Our flight was leaving from a gate on the far side of the building. Of course, it wasn’t a very big building, so it would only take a couple of minutes to cross the entire length.
I dug my hand into the pocket of my jacket and pulled out our tickets. I’d already looked at them ten or twelve times. Two tickets, each reading flight 1336, gate 12, boarding 11:00, departure 11:30.
We stopped directly in front of the security check by the gate. Mr. McCurdy couldn’t go any farther than this. There were people milling around, sitting in the seats, standing, waiting to go through.
“Do you two have gum for the flight?” Mr. McCurdy asked.
“I don’t,” I said.
“Me neither,” Nick agreed.
“Here,” Mr. McCurdy said, pulling some change out of his pocket. “Go and get you and your sister some gum while Sarah and I have us a little talk.”
That made me suspicious. What did Mr. McCurdy want to talk to me about that he didn’t want Nick to hear? Nick took the money and went off to the store. I sat in the seat beside the one Mr. McCurdy had taken.
“Now, Sarah, I want you to know everything’s going to be fine. There’s nothing for you to be worried about.”
“I’m not worried … much.”
“Are you nervous about taking care of Nick?”
“A little.”
“You know there’ll be staff people there to be in charge. All you’ve got to do is get the two of you off the plane at the other end and you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“I know,” I said, even though I knew that no matter how many staff there were at this camp I’d still feel as if I was in charge of him.
“And if anything were to happen, and we know it won’t, they’d just get hold of your mother or your aunt — or me.”
“You?”
“Do you think I’m too old to help sort things out if there’s a problem?”
“Of course not, but it’s pretty far away,” I said.
“Where is this place?” Mr. McCurdy asked.
“I don’t know exactly … hold on a second. Mom gave me a couple of brochures about the place,” I said as I dug into my carry-on luggage. I pulled them out and handed one to Mr. McCurdy.
“You can hang on to that one if you want,” I said.
“This isn’t that far,” he said as he put his finger on the address on the back of the brochure. “I could be there by car in less than a day.”
“But even if I needed to, how could we get in touch with you? You don’t have a phone.”
“You got a point there.” He paused. “You have your friend Erin’s telephone number, don’t you?”
I nodded. I had all my friends’ numbers programmed into my phone.
“Then if you have any problems you call Erin, and she’ll come and tell me you need to talk to me.”
“That would work.”
“Course it would. And if you think about it, I might even be the best person for you to contact if there’s a problem.”
I gave him a questioning look.
“Think about it. Your aunt lives pretty well on the other side of the country and has her own family to take care of, right?”
“Three kids.”
“And your mother, once they get a message through to her, is just as far away.” He paused. “Besides, don’t you think she deserves a week without worry?”
I nodded. That was something I thought everybody needed but some of us never got.
“So if you have a problem, just call Erin and she’ll tell me. I’ll take care of everything. Okay?”
Again I nodded. “Thanks.”
“No need to thank me. Helping each other out is what family’s all about.”
Family. I liked the sound of that.
•
“I don’t know why everybody complains about airplane food,” Nick said as he shovelled in the last of his meal. “This is really good!”
He had eaten his meal at the speed of light. It wasn’t that big a meal, but the speed that he’d devoured it with had amazed me. I was picking away at mine slowly.
“Don’t you like yours?” he asked.
“You may be the only person in the whole world who likes airplane food.”
“If you don’t like it, can I have yours?”
“No, you can’t!” I said indignantly.
“But if you don’t like it, then why can’t I have it?”
“Because it’s mine, and it’s all I have.”
I dug my fork in and took another small piece. I thought that it was chicken, or maybe fish. I was certain it wasn’t beef … or almost certain.
“Do you think they’ll feed us at camp?” Nick asked.
“No, Nick, they’re going to starve us for a whole week.”
“I mean, are they going to feed us as soon as we get there?”
“How would I know?”
“I don’t know. You just seem to know everything … or at least think you know everything.”
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “Here, have a look at this.” I pulled the last copy of the camp brochure out of my bag. “It mentions something about meals.”
Nick grabbed it from my hands. “Where’d you get that from?”
“A couple of copies came in the mail a few days ago. I gave Mr. McCurdy one.”
He opened it and started to read. I’d already looked through it. It wasn’t very professional-looking. It looked like somebody had made it on a home computer — a home computer without a spell-checker. I’d counted four spelling mistakes, not to mention how badly it was organized, and it had no pictures and —
“This actually doesn’t sound bad,” Nick said. “They have more animals than Mr. McCurdy.”
“It’s a zoo camp, so wouldn’t that be expected?”
“I guess. I mean, I just hadn’t thought about it much.”
“You never think of anything much.”
“Seriously, it says they have all kinds of big cats, not just a tiger, but lions, jaguars, leopards, a bear and —”
“What kind of bear?” I asked. I’d only browsed the brochure myself, and I didn’t like bears.
“It doesn’t say,” Nick answered, not looking up from the brochure. “And they also have some buffalo, a herd of deer, birds of prey, and — wow, this is unbelievable!”
“What?”
“They have three elephants!” Nick practically screamed.
People in the seats across the aisle turned and stared at us. I looked away. There probably wasn’t anybody on the plane who hadn’t heard him.
“I’m personally more interested in other things than the animals,” I said through clenched teeth.
“What could be more interesting than elephants — except for maybe a whale?” Nick asked in amazement.
“Things like where we’re going to be staying.”
Nick shrugged. “That’s not very interesting. Besides, it says right here that we’re going to be staying in rustic accommodations. What’s a rustic?”
I shook my head. “Rustic isn’t a type of place. It describes the place. It means like not modern or fancy. Old.”
“Like a cabin?” Nick asked.
“Or a shack,” I muttered.
Nick snickered, “And you said I was being silly about the food. They’re not going to be putting us in a shack, Sarah.”
I knew he was right. I hated it when he was right and wanted to change the subject. “I guess having elephants is pretty exciting.”
“I can’t wait until I’m sitting on top of one of them and —”
“You may have a long, long wait,” I cautioned.
“This is only a two-hour flight, and the camp can’t be that far from the airport, so how long can it be?”
“Not long until we get there, but no telling how long before they let you ride on the elephant. If they ever do.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Nick demanded.
“Because they can’t just let some kids loose around an elephant.”
“But we’re not just some kids! We’re experienced around exotic animals. We’ll tell them about Mr. McCurdy and his animals and all the time we spend at his farm with Buddha, Laura and Calvin.”
“Just because we’ve spent time with some exotic animals doesn’t mean they’ll let us near these ones.”
“So you mean we could come all this way and not be allowed as close to these animals as we are to Mr. McCurdy’s?” Nick questioned in disbelief.
“That could happen. They may not even believe us when we say we’ve spent time around a tiger. If somebody told you they spent time every day with a tiger, wouldn’t you think they were making the whole thing up?”
“Well, I don’t know, maybe, maybe not.”
“Think about it, Nick. It’s not a normal sort of thing to have a tiger for your next-door neighbour.”
“But we do. We’ll just have to convince them — you’ll have to convince them.”
“Why me?”
“Because people believe you. You have such an honest face.”
“Thank you.”
“And that’s good because you really aren’t very good at lying.”
“That’s not true! I can —” I stopped myself. It seemed pretty stupid to be arguing that I was a good liar. Especially when I wasn’t. Nick was a different matter. He was quick on his feet and could say practically anything with a straight face.
“So, will you talk to them, Sarah?”
“I’ll talk to them, but even if they do believe me about Buddha and the other animals, that doesn’t mean they’ll let you anywhere near their elephants.”
“Why not? I’ve never had any problems with elephants at Mr. McCurdy’s place,” Nick said.
“Mr. McCurdy doesn’t have any elephants.”
Nick smiled. “Well, you know that, and I know that, but nobody at this camp knows that.”
“Didn’t you just say I was bad at lying? Now you’re asking me to lie for you?”
“I’m not asking you to lie.”
“Good, because —”
“I can handle that all by myself. All I’m asking you to do is say nothing.”
“And if they ask me?” I questioned.
“Just say you’ve never, ever seen me have a single problem with an elephant.”
“I told you I’m not lying for you!”
“And I told you I didn’t want you to. Have you ever seen me with an elephant?” he asked.
“No.”
“So if you’ve never seen me with an elephant, how could you have seen me have a
problem
with one?”
“Nicholas Eric Fraser, sometimes you are such a little —”
“Could I please have your attention!” a flight attendant said over the PA. “We will be landing shortly. Can passengers please finish their meals so the trays and seats can be returned to the upright position. Thank you.”
“Now if you’ll stop bothering me, I have to finish my meal,” I said.
“You make it sound like all I ever do is bother you,” Nick said defensively.
“Well?”
“Come on, Sarah, I can be helpful. I could help you right now.”
“You could? How could you help me?”
“For starters, I can help you finish your meal.”
•
“How do we even know who we’re looking for?” Nick asked as we stood at the baggage carousel and waited for our luggage to appear.
It was a good question. I scanned the crowd, hoping an obvious answer would jump out at me. “Maybe they’ll be holding up a sign that says ZOO CAMP.”
“I don’t see any sign like that,” Nick said.
Neither did I. There had been one person who had been holding a sign over his head. That’s where I’d gotten the idea. That sign had somebody’s name written on it, and the two people had connected and then left.
What I did see were hundreds of people. Some sitting, some walking and moving through the terminal; others waiting for people to arrive. There were lots like us, standing at the luggage carousel, waiting for their bags to appear. It reminded me of a bunch of vultures perched on limbs, waiting for something to die.
“What if nobody comes to get us?” Nick asked.
“Somebody will,” I said, sounding confident. How I sounded and how I felt were worlds apart. Either way, there was no need for Nick to worry. Worrying was my job. “Let’s just do first things first and get our luggage.”
Almost on cue, I was startled by the sound of the luggage carousel rumbling to life. The large metal sections of the conveyor glided along, squeaking slightly as they rounded the corners. There was a loud
clunk
and the first bag slid down and landed on the conveyor. It was followed immediately by a second bag, and a third and a fourth.
This was good. Once all the luggage had come, people would grab their bags and leave. Eventually it would only be us left, and whoever was here to pick us up. Quickly, bags were grabbed from the carousel and thrown over shoulders or onto luggage carts, and carried away. With each bag taken, another person walked away, thinning out the group.
“There’s my bag!” Nick cried
“Go and get it.”
Nick ran over, grabbed it and dropped it at his feet. “And there’s yours!” he said, chasing it down and hauling it off the conveyor, as well.
Bag by bag, the crowd was quickly getting smaller. I started looking more intensely at the remaining people. I spied an older man with a beard, wearing a beat-up old hat that looked as if it had been chewed on by a tiger. He looked like an animal guy. Maybe I should just walk over and see if he was from the camp and — a woman ran to him and he gave her a big hug and a kiss. If he was one of the zoo camp staff, he was a lot more friendly than I wanted. The man and woman walked off, pushing a cartful of luggage.
Well, if it wasn’t him, maybe it was … my second choice, another man wearing a safari-type jacket. But he started to walk away with his luggage. Person after person left. What had started as encouraging, getting rid of the extra people, was now getting scary. There was hardly anybody left, and worst of all, none of them seemed to be looking for us. The last few people grabbed their bags and took off.