Mary Anne And The Zoo Mystery Part 3

Logan squeezed my hand. "Poor Mary Anne," he murmured. "Stuck with those guys for three weeks."

I wanted to tell Logan that he could help make things a lot easier if he'd stop b.u.mping heads with Alan, but I lost my nerve. I was afraid Logan might think I was siding with Alan.

The rest of the ride was without incident, thank goodness. For a moment it looked as if we were actually going to have a pretty calm afternoon. But as the bus pulled into the parking lot, we were met by a small crowd of about AC;.

ten people, waving signs in front of the bus.

"Zoos are cruel. Don't go in there!" one gray-haired woman cried.

"Whoa," Logan said. "It looks like the animal rights people don't like Bedford Zoo."

I was worried. "Do you think we'll have to fight our way through the picket line?"

"Hardly," Logan said, chuckling. "I think this is as active as these protesters get. Don't worry, they can't stop us from entering the zoo."

"They can't stop us," Claudia agreed, watching the group intently from her side of the bus, "but they can certainly make us feel bad."

"Kids, listen up," Mr. Kirkwood called from the front of the bus. "When you get off the bus, don't dawdle. Go straight into the visitors' center." He looked at us in the rearview mirror, his mouth drawn tight. "Is. that clear?"

We nodded silently.

He pulled forward, leaving the protesters behind, and drove to the front gate of the zoo. He stopped the bus and we filed out so fast, I think we set a field trip record. No one wanted to talk to the picketers.

Once the last student was inside the visitors' center, everyone relaxed. The walls were covered with large, colorful photos of Bengal tigers, giraffes, polar bears, flamingos, elephants, and camels. Purple-and-green nylon banners hung from the ceiling. On each banner was the profile of an animal. At one end of the room, cedar benches had been arranged in rows facing a small platform. The s.p.a.ce was light and airy and made you feel good. I hoped the rest of the zoo made you feel the same way.

"Good afternoon," said a pleasant woman with blonde hair in a blunt, chin-length cut as she took her place on the platform. She was tanned and slender and wore a navy blue skirt and blazer. "I'm Mrs. Wofsey, the director of Bedford Zoo. As soon as you take your seats, we'll begin our presentation."

Alan and Howie grabbed the bench right in front of Mrs. Wofsey. I decided I had better join them so I said good-bye to Logan and slid onto the bench beside Howie. Alan leaned over and whispered, "Glad to see you're back on the winning team."

All of this talk of winning was getting pretty tedious but I smiled anyway. (That's me - Miss Don't-Make-Waves.) "Now the first thing I'd like to do is introduce my a.s.sistant, Mr. Chester." Mrs. Wofsey gestured to a short, heavy-set man in a blue blazer standing in the corner. He was bald and wore gold-rimmed gla.s.ses. He didn't smile or say hi, but just gave us a brisk nod.

'I'll bet he's a lot of fun at parties," Howie cracked. I gave him a nudge with my elbow to silence him.

"Mr. Chester and I are very proud of our zoo," Mrs. Wofsey continued. "And we're excited about some of our recent acquisitions."

The lights dimmed and a picture flashed on the wall behind her. It looked like a small television painted bright red. On the side was a keyhole.

"This is one of our new key-activated information boxes. Visitors to the zoo pay a one-dollar fee and receive a key, like this." Mrs. Wofsey held up a gold key. "This allows them to unlock our information boxes, and browse through the material. Don't worry, it's basic background information and won't interfere with your research."

Mrs. Wofsey pulled another key out of her pocket. It looked identical to the first one. "This is my zoo key. You'll notice that the info keys are replicas of the keys the zoo employees use to enter the animal cages."

"Whoa," Alan murmured, leaning forward intensely. "You don't think - ?"

Mrs. Wofsey cut him off with a steely look. "Now don't get the idea that your keys will unlock the cages, because they won't. The keys only look identical."

Alan actually blushed. I knew Logan, sitting behind us, was thoroughly enjoying Alan's humiliation.

"Mr. Chester is going to give each one of you your own key," Mrs. Wofsey continued, "so that you can have access to the same information as any regular zoo visitor. I only ask that you take good care of them and at the end of three weeks, please return them."

I'll have to admit, having my own key to the zoo was pretty exciting. Mr. Chester walked down the rows of benches and pa.s.sed out the keys. When he was finished he turned to face Mrs. Wofsey. He looked as if he were expecting her to give him another set of orders.

Mrs. Wofsey smiled at her a.s.sistant. "Mr. Chester, why don't you tell the group about our most exciting project?"

Strangely, Mr. Chester didn't seem to share Mrs. Wofsey's enthusiasm about anything. He just shrugged and started talking to us, saying in a flat voice, "The zoo has received a pair of gorillas on loan from San Diego. We'll have them for four weeks."

"Their names are Mojo and James," Mrs. Wofsey jumped in. "And they're delightful. Mojo has been taught American Sign Language, and can actually communicate with her trainers - when she's in the right mood. We're extremely pleased to have them with us. There is one problem, however." Mrs. Wofsey paused to clasp her hands in front of her, then took a deep breath. "Shortly before Mojo and James arrived, we began to receive disturbing notes saying things like, 'Cages are crue,' and, 'Animals should be free.' There were enough of them to make us worry that some disgruntled person might try to let the animals out of their cages. Mojo and James are our guests and it's of the utmost importance that we protect them, as well as all of the other animals here at Bedford Zoo. For that reason, I've hired extra security guards to patrol the zoo. They'll be on duty around the clock."

Mrs. Wofsey hadn't specifically mentioned the people with the picket signs but I was sure that's who she meant the animals needed to be protected from. I'd read about animal rights activists who set laboratory animals free, so I wouldn't have been surprised if one of them did try to let the animals out of their cages.

Then Mr. Chester stepped forward and gave us a quick rundown of the zoo regulations. They were pretty standard. Don't litter. Don't feed the animals. Never stick your hand in a cage. Try to be respectful and not scare the animals in any way. Even Howie and Alan found it easy to agree to follow those rules.

"All right then." Mrs. Wofsey clapped her hands together. "You have an hour and a half. Enjoy yourselves."

Howie, Alan, and I decided that we would circle the zoo and each make a list of the top three animals we would like to study.

"Then we'll compare notes," I said, "and make our selection."

I watched to see which way Logan, Claudia, and Dawn went, and then deliberately headed our group in the opposite direction.

Here's the most bizarre thing about the afternoon - Howie, Alan, and I actually enjoyed ourselves. The sun was shining, and the animals seemed to have spring fever. They all looked interesting. It was going to be hard to choose just one to study. On the bus ride back to school, everyone talked nonstop about the animals. Logan and Alan didn't say one mean thing to each other.

Chapter 6.

The Free Babar project was now in full swing. We'd talked to all of our regular clients, and the kids were anxious to do whatever they could to save that little elephant.

The Pike kids were particularly interested. Since their suggestion of making Free Babar b.u.t.tons had been taken up by the BSC, they'd hardly talked about anything else. None of Mallory's seven brothers and sisters thought of Thursday as a baby-sitting day. It was E (for elephant)-Day.

Mallory met Kristy at the door that afternoon. "Come on in. The kids have been waiting for you. We've turned the kitchen into the art room. And the dining room is the b.u.t.ton shop."

"b.u.t.ton shop?" Kristy peered around the door of the dining room. Nicky and the triplets, Byron, Jordan, and Adam, were all wearing visors of varying types and sitting around the dining room table. In the center of the table sat something that looked like a weird stapler.

"What is that?" Kristy asked. "It looks dangerous."

"It's my b.u.t.ton-maker," Nicky said, smiling proudly. "Grandma and Grandpa gave it to me, but we can't figure out how it works."

"Are there instructions?" Kristy asked, joining the boys at the table.

Jordan held up a crumpled piece of paper. "Yes. But no one can understand them."

"We've each taken a turn at it," Mallory explained, "but so far we've struck out. We're hoping you can do it."

Kristy examined the instructions, muttering to herself and pointing to the different parts of the stamp machine as she read. After a few minutes she looked up. "It says we're supposed to have perfectly cut round circles of paper that will go over the metal backs."

Mal nodded. "We've got those. Margo, Vanessa, and Claire are working on the drawings in the kitchen - excuse me, the art room."

"Let's go see."

The kitchen table was covered with Magic Markers, glitter pens, glue, and pictures of elephants. Some Babar books lay open for reference.

"Awfully quiet in here," Kristy murmured to Mallory as they watched the girls work.

Mal nodded. "They take this b.u.t.ton business very seriously. Their pictures of Babar have to be perfect. At least that's what Margo told me."

Margo looked up. "I decided just to do Babar's head. Does it look okay?"

Claire peered over Marge's shoulder. "It looks like a dog with big ears."

Margo was crestfallen. "It does?"

"Of course not," said Kristy. "If you make the nose just a little bit longer, it will be perfect. Also, put a bit of Babar's green suit in the picture and everyone will know who he is right away."

"Especially if we write Free Babar on the b.u.t.tons," Vanessa pointed out.

"Vanessa hasn't drawn one elephant picture," Margo complained. "I've had to do them all."

Vanessa was bent over her paper, working diligently. Scattered on the floor around her were crumpled pieces of paper.

"If you're not painting Babar," Kristy asked, "what are you doing?"

"I've written a poem," Vanessa said, blushing slightly. She kept her arm crooked around her paper. "But it's not ready yet so don't anybody look."

Mallory patted her on the shoulder. "Come on, Vanessa, let's hear it. It doesn't have to be finished."

Vanessa thought about it for a second, then moved her arm. "You read it," she said to Mal.

"Babar the elephant Is very, very sad.

If you help him find a home He will be oh, so glad."

"That's really great, Vanessa," Kristy said. "Don't change a word."

"Now we have two kinds of b.u.t.tons to sell," Kristy said.

"Three!" Claire held up her drawing. It was an elephant with a banana almost his size next to him.

"Three!" Kristy took Claire's b.u.t.ton drawing. "Good work, guys."

Mallory raised one finger. "We don't exactly have the b.u.t.tons yet. Remember, we can't make the machine work."

Kristy rubbed her hands together. "I read the instructions. We'll be making b.u.t.tons in no time."

"Here." Margo handed her the picture of the dog with big ears. "Do this one first. I made a bigger nose and wrote 'Free Babar,' on it."

"Write 'Free Babar,' on mine, too," Claire cried.

"I'll do it," Mallory said, taking the drawing and printing the words in her best calligraphy.

"Here we go!" Kristy took the first b.u.t.tons to the dining room to a.s.semble them in the machine.

Mallory stayed with the girls, helping Margo draw elephant noses that were big enough, and gathering Claire's banana drawings. She was also ready to help Vanessa with her spelling, which tended to be creative.

Meanwhile in the dining room, Kristy tinkered with the Badge-o-matic, reading the instructions out loud as she followed them. "First, place the big ring in your palm and set the metal back, the artwork, and the plastic cover in its center. Be sure they're dead center. Now put the thin ring on top of that, and the lid over that. Put your other hand over your palm and press the pieces together. But not too hard."

"This is confusing," Nicky said. "You're telling me," Kristy muttered. She looked at the paper again. "Now place the metal backing on top, flip it over, and place the entire b.u.t.ton in the Badge-o-matic. Press down lever."

Adam pushed down the lever. Nicky held up a perfectly shaped b.u.t.ton with Claire's elephant in the middle. "Look! Our first b.u.t.ton!"

"All right!" The triplets gave each other and Kristy high-fives.

Kristy studied the instructions again. "It looks like the problem spot happens when you put the metal clasp on the back, press down with your palm, and flip the badge. That's probably where things go wrong."

"No. We got confused way before that," Nicky said.

"Well, we know what we're doing now," Kristy replied. "We can declare the Badge-o-matic factory officially open."

Margo's picture was done next, and then came Vanessa's poem. In the meantime, Claire had made several more elephants and Mallory had joined in with her own interpretation of Babar. By the end of an hour they had successfully a.s.sembled twelve b.u.t.tons.

"I think we should start selling them," Vanessa said.

"But don't you want to make more?" Kristy asked.

"No!" Claire shook her head furiously. "We need money for Babar. Right now."

Kristy looked at Mallory and shrugged. "I guess we can do a test run. You know, just to see if anyone is interested in buying them."

Mal checked her watch. "We have one more hour before Mom and Dad are due home. That'll give us enough time to cover a good chunk of the neighborhood."

Kristy nodded. "Why don't we divide into two groups? You take your kids to the neighbors around your house, making sure to hit Burnt Hill Road and Elm Street. And I'll take my group over to Bradford Court, Fawcett Avenue, and Kimball Street."

Vanessa found two baskets, and the kids carefully divided up the b.u.t.tons, six in each.

Then Byron, Margo, and Claire went off with Kristy, while Mallory took Vanessa and the rest of the boys with her.

"Hold it!" Kristy shouted when Mallory and the others were halfway across the lawn. "We haven't settled on a price for the b.u.t.tons." "One million dollars!" Claire cried. Mallory looked down at the basket. "A dollar?"

"No." Byron crossed his arms stubbornly. "They're worth more than that." Mallory shrugged. "Five dollars?" As usual, Kristy was the one with the best idea. "I know. We'll say, These are on sale for a suggested donation of five dollars. If you can't afford that, we'll take less. If you'd like to give more, that would be wonderful, too.' " "Excellent!" Adam cried, pumping his fist in the air. "They'll probably give us ten!"

The kids raced out of the yard with their baskets, looking like Halloween trick-or-treaters heading for their first house. Kristy and Mal made sure they guided their charges toward a few surefire wins.