Like the wolf exhibit.
Near the entrance, a sign lies crushed on the ground. It has a picture of a gray wolf with an arrow pointing one way, and another arrow with an emperor penguin on it.
To my right I see a piece of hay, stuck deep in a tree trunk like a pencil in a cupcake.
To my left, water gushes from a pathside ditch. A broken pipe.
The boiling sky has settled into a solid blanket of gray, and the rain’s quieted to a steady drizzle. Still, I smell more bad weather menacing in the distance.
Tossed into a bush is a large informational display with a photo of two gray wolves. I don’t see any fence or barrier or intact wall. And it dawns on me that grumpy wolves and tiny dogs might not make the best of pals, especially under these trying circumstances.
Just as I start to leave, a wolf on the sign seems to move. To blink.
Oh.
He isn’t part of the sign. He’s next to the sign.
It’s Kimu.
“Hey,” I say.
No answer.
Something tells me I should hightail it outa there. Something else is saying, Make no sudden moves.
I hate it when my brain disagrees with itself.
I split the difference, crouching meekly. Doing the whole submissive dog thing.
Kimu locks his gaze on me. I try not to make direct eye contact. Lotta animals find that threatening. But his eyes are mesmerizing. Glowing amber and way too smart.
He moves again.
Two paws appear.
Big paws. Nothing like my feeble, shrimpy feet.
These paws are the size of hamburger buns.
Hamburger buns with lethal claws attached.
mutt versus wolf
I wait for him to launch into his pounce. Maybe if I time my escape just right?
Yeah, sure. In a battle of Chihuahua mutt versus wolf, even I wouldn’t bet on the dog.
Do they break your neck before they eat you? That only seems fair.
My heart’s doing this crazy tap dance in my chest, and I wonder if he can hear it. I sneak a peek at him. Strangely, he just keeps staring at me.
Quickly I avert my gaze. Those eyes. Those chilling, dangerous eyes.
“It’s me. Bob,” I say.
Kimu says nothing. He’s panting hard. Maybe he’s disoriented, even hurt?
I try to speak again. My voice seems to be hiding somewhere deep in my throat.
Another try. “Um . . . Kimu?”
He blinks.
“Are you all right?”
No response.
“Anyone else hurt?” I ask.
This time he seems to hear me. “I don’t know.” His voice is a low whisper.
“Can I help?” I ask, really hoping the answer is no.
“Suzu. I can’t find her.”
“All right, then,” I say. “I’ll, uh . . . I’ll take a look.”
I poke around a bit, careful not to get too close to Kimu. A sour smell pours off him like sweat off a human.
“I don’t . . . I don’t see her,” I say after a few minutes. “But I’m sure she’s fine. Just a little shook up, probably. Hiding somewhere.”
He doesn’t answer.
“I should go. I’m, um, looking for some friends,” I say. “Is there anything else I can do?”
He looks up at the ominous sky as if there’s an answer waiting there.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
gorilla world
I move on. I have to find my friends. Have to. But where am I?
I leap over another mangled signpost with bent arrows. One way to Reptileville. One way to Lion Land.
I pass the Mangrove Swamp. A manatee pokes up her big head, draped with Spanish moss like a silly wig.
Two workers in yellow raincoats trot past me. One has a bloody bandage on his cheek.
I need to stop. Regroup. Cool it, Bob, I tell myself. I’m panicking, not taking in the right data. I try to blot out all the horrible smells, all the awful noise.
I concentrate, let my nose do the real work.
A whiff of something familiar. Gorilla? It has to be gorilla.
Full run now. I cut my back left paw on a shard of glass. Trip. Fall hard on my nose and cut it, too.
Dripping blood, I carry on. Find them. Find them. Find them.
A massive old oak lies on its side at the entrance to Gorilla World. Huge tangled roots grope into the air like frozen snakes.
And just beyond, where Ivan lives, is nothing but devastation.
help us!
The stone wall separating Gorilla World and Elephant Odyssey is gone. Pieces of both domains mingle: an elephant toy here, a gorilla nest there. Part of the indoor gorilla space has crumbled to the ground.
I scan the area where Ruby and her herd like to hang out. Nothing.
No gorillas, either.
Out of nowhere, the rain picks up, coming sideways, blinding me. The wind howls like a hurt dog.
This storm isn’t over, not by a long shot.
I leap over a pile of cement blocks, catch my hurt foot on something sharp, yelp, keep going.
“Ivan!” I call. “Ruby!”
Nothing.
I get to a slight rise, leap onto another overturned tree, and try to make sense of the damage.
Red and blue lights cut through the rain. Police, fire engines. Good. We need all the help we can get.
I take in several lungfuls of the hideous air. It’s too wet, too full of conflicting odors, a mishmash of scents I can’t decipher, especially with my busted nose.
The wind gathers speed, pushing at me with incredible force. Feels like it’ll tear my ears right off my sore noggin. I can barely stay upright.
Wind like that, storm wind, doesn’t carry scent. It obliterates it.
“Help! Help us!”
It’s a tiny, desperate voice.
Maybe even Ruby’s voice.
kudzoo
I pick my way through the debris, trying to lock on the sound. It ain’t easy.
“Please help us!”
Climbing over the remains of the wall, the one I was sitting on what seems like moments ago, I find myself at the bank of the moat.
“Ruby?” I call at the top of my lungs.
“Uncle Bob!” The sound of my name cuts through the gloom like a shaft of sun. Ruby runs to the opposite edge of the water. She’s maybe eight feet away, but I can barely make her out in the torrential rain.
“You stay there,” I yell, trying to be heard over the wind. “I’ll come to you.”
I follow the bank until I come to a spot where several chunks of wall have tumbled into the water. Three careful leaps and I’m across.
Ruby runs to greet me. She wraps her mud-coated trunk around my neck, and boy oh boy, am I happy to see that sweet little elephant.
“You hurt, Ruby?” I ask. “Is everyone all right?”
Ruby sniffles. “Yes, but—come quick.” She dashes off before I can ask anything more.
Five of Ruby’s aunts stand by the elephant side of the moat. Each one has her trunk plunged deep in the dark, muddy water. They look like a bunch of kids trying to find a lost toy in a swimming pool.
It’s almost funny. Until I see what they’re reaching for.
A baby gorilla is in the moat.
The tiny gal keeps grabbing for a trunk to hold on to, then slipping free. Her terrified screeches fill the air.