There’s Ivan’s hand, barely peeking through the rubble.
not moving
I know that hand like the back of my own paw.
“No!” Ruby screams. “Uncle Ivan!”
I check the crowd. No sign of Julia or George. Nothing. No Maya, either, or other keepers I recognize. Just a few employees, several rescue workers, and two or three dazed-looking visitors.
“Is he alive?” a firefighter asks.
“Hand—whatever it’s called—isn’t moving,” says another.
Weaving my way through the tangle of legs, I climb up the rubble pile, sniff a bit, and bark my loudest Yes, he’s alive, get your rears in gear bark.
Just like those overachieving rescue dogs in the Man’s Best Friend show.
I listen for a sound from Ivan, a grunt, a cry for help. Nothing.
Still, he smells alive.
At least I think he does. And that’s good enough for me.
xena
Another dog races over, a tough-looking German shepherd wearing an impressive glow-in-the-dark vest and some bootie things to protect her feet from the rubble, but I hold my ground.
This is my friend we’re talking about.
I lick Ivan’s hand. His fingers twitch.
Well, that’s all it takes to get both of us barking like maniacs.
More people gather. I see Maya next to Ruby, which makes me feel better.
“Name’s Xena,” says the shepherd.
“Bob.”
I nudge Ivan’s fingers with my nose. Nothing.
“And this is Ivan. My best bud.”
“Sorry to hear it,” she replies, and I don’t like the sound of her voice.
With great care, and far too slowly for my taste, rescue workers begin removing chunks of the wreckage and tossing them to one side.
Xena and me, we mostly stay outa the way, but every so often I lick Ivan’s hand, just so he knows we’ve got him covered.
I glance over at Maya and Ruby. Maya is wiping tears from her eyes while she strokes Ruby’s ears. Ruby is giving Maya a comforting trunk-hug.
Good ol’ Ruby. Wise beyond her years, that gal.
I check the crowd again. Still no sign of Julia or George. And that’s when a sickening thought hits me like a bite to the belly.
What if Ivan isn’t the only one under the rubble?
dragon
More police cars and ambulances arrive at the park. A handful of keepers stream in, too, looking frantic and confused.
The weirdest thing of all? Wandering through all the destruction are random park residents. Animals. Birds. Reptiles.
Residents who most definitely do not belong in Gorilla World.
A police officer is chasing an armadillo.
A great blue heron watches the mayhem from her position atop a giraffe statue.
A wallaby pokes his nose out of a bush, his saucer eyes catching the fire engine lights.
“Nets!” someone yells. “We need more nets!”
An older gentleman holding a blue umbrella lets out a bloodcurdling scream. “Dragon!” he cries. “I swear to you I just saw a baby dragon!”
“Sir,” says a keeper named Malik, “no worries. That’s actually a Gila monster. His name is Gilligan.”
A paramedic raises his hand. “They have, like, venom, don’t they?”
“They say a healthy adult won’t die from it.” Malik shrugs. “Although they’ll be in some serious pain.”
“Wonderful,” the paramedic mutters.
I glance over my shoulder to see Sara running toward Maya. I can’t hear her words, but I can definitely see the worry in her eyes.
Xena’s ears tip forward. “They’re getting the cutters and the jaws of life.”
“Jaws?” I repeat. Don’t like the sound of that.
“Spreads metal. They’re probably getting close. C’mon. We need to get outa the way.”
“I ain’t going anywhere.”
“I hear ya,” she says, and I can tell from the weary sound of her voice that she’s had this conversation before. “But the best thing for Ivan right now is to let the humans do their thing.”
I think about it. Figure she’s right. I give his fingers one last lick. They don’t move.
Nothing. Nada.
We pick our way to the bottom of the debris pile. “Hang in there, Ivan!” I call. “We love ya, buddy!”
I know it’s crazy, but I listen anyways, hoping for a sign, any sign, that he’s still with us.
hugging
I run to Kinyani. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “He’s gonna make it.”
I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
From there, I head over to Maya and Sara and Ruby. Maya has a radio handset in one hand and, for some reason, a young, squirmy meerkat in the other.
Sara kneels down and hugs me tighter than any sweater she’s ever knit. “Bob,” she cries, “what happened to your nose? And look at your paw!”
Some dogs don’t like to be hugged that way.
I’m one of them.
But Sara needs to do it. I can tell somehow. So I let her.
Isn’t so bad, really.
loose
A new police officer joins us. “Officer Williams.” She nods at Maya. “You’re with the park, right?”
“Yes. I’m Maya.”
“This . . .” Officer Williams pauses. “We need to get this under control ASAP. Winds are gonna pick up, and we haven’t even hit the eye. Storm surge could be an issue. This one’s moving slow.”
“We’ve got a skeleton staff here,” says Maya as the meerkat attempts to eat her earring. “Early reports say maybe a third of the habitats are damaged or destroyed.” She shakes her head. “We’ve got some injuries, some possible fatalities, too.”
“Human?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Anything loose that could be a . . . you know, problem?”
Maya presses her lips together. “Yep.”
“Such as?”
“A couple Florida panthers. Gray wolves. Python, maybe. Possibly an alligator or two. American alligators, not Chinese.”
“I don’t care if they’re from Canada. If they eat people, we’re in trouble.”
“They don’t. Typically.”
“Typically,” Officer Williams repeats. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
Sara loosens her grip on me ever so slightly. “Maya,” she asks, voice trembling, “have you heard anything on the radio from George and Julia? I keep calling, but the cell towers are down.”
“Nothing yet,” Maya says. “But I’m sure they’re fine.”
“Nearest shelter’s over at Lincoln Elementary,” says Officer Williams. “You could check there.”
Sara frowns. “They were probably here right before the tornado hit.”
“We’re searching the park, ma’am,” says the officer. “We’ll find them if they’re here.”
“Everybody, clear out,” a firefighter with a megaphone yells from a spot near Ivan. “Could be danger of more collapse. We’re working on this last metal beam.”