Ben followed his friend’s pointing finger. A hornlike shape protruded from the roof.
“I’ll bet that’s it,” Griffin decided.
Ben wasn’t convinced. “Looks more like a tuba.”
The two explored the rest of the starboard side and the bow. There were no other openings.
Griffin returned to the big horn. “This has to be it. Come on, I’ll give you a boost.”
“I can’t climb in there now! The boat’s full of people!”
“You don’t have to go inside. Just get up there and make sure the opening’s big enough.” He laced his fingers together, forming a stirrup.
With a tremulous sigh, Ben grabbed his friend’s shoulder and then stepped onto Griffin’s interlocked hands. Griffin heaved, straightening his back and raising Ben upward. The smaller boy reached for a handhold, but he was still shy of the roof. With a whimper, he toppled onto Griffin. The two of them ended up in a heap on the deck.
Ben rubbed a bruised knee. “First rule of boosting: Make sure the booster can get the boostee high enough.”
“We’re just a few inches short.” Griffin looked around determinedly. “Jackpot!” He scrambled astern and returned lugging a heavy fluorescent yellow suitcase marked DANGER.
Ben was alarmed. “Put that down! It could be a bomb!”
“It’s not a bomb, it’s a life raft,” Griffin explained. “Nothing happens if you don’t pull the cord.”
He slid the heavy case along the deck until it lay directly underneath the vent opening. Then he stepped onto it and formed the foothold once again. “Okay, round two.”
The extra twelve inches made the difference. Ben was able to get his hands on the edge of the roof and, with Griffin pushing from below, scrambled up beside the horn. He peered into the bell. “It’s the vent, all right,” he called back. “There’s a grill over it — four screws. Looks pretty tight —”
“Can you get inside?” Griffin asked.
Ben dearly wished he could have said no. But there was no sense trying to discourage Griffin. It never happened. He’d just find another way in, probably through the bilge pump.
He sighed unhappily. “I’ll fit.”
10
Logan Kellerman was acting.
No, that didn’t even come close to describing it. He was completely in character, just as he had been for the orange juice commercial: It didn’t matter that Boise’s Grovestand tasted like toxic waste — those Idaho guys should probably stick to potatoes. It had taken a true actor to announce, “This is the best orange juice I’ve ever had!” and really sell the line.
He toured through the cages of All Aboard Animals, drinking in the sights through the eyes of his character, the sounds through the ears of his character, and the smells through the nose of his character.
There was only one problem. Where was his audience? Where was Klaus? He couldn’t very well knock on the office door and ask for the security guard.
What would Johnny Depp do?
A mountain of a man with a shock of platinum blond hair appeared, herding three teenagers to the exit. Hooray! The performance was saved!
At six-foot-seven, 295 pounds, Klaus Anthony wasn’t expecting trouble from the teens, and he didn’t get any. He escorted the owl tormentors past the waiting crowd on the gangway and let his massive bodybuilder frame do the talking.
Klaus prided himself on being a man of few words.
When he reentered the zoo boat, he nearly tripped over Logan, who was seated on the deck by the chipmunk cage, his back against the bulkhead, his face buried in his hands in an attitude of utter misery.
“You can’t sit here, kid,” Klaus rumbled.
Logan looked up to reveal red-rimmed eyes and a tragic expression. “But I’m so sad!” he quavered, stretching the word into several syllables.
Klaus was unmoved. “Be sad somewhere else,” he grunted, and walked off into the exhibit.
Logan watched, frowning, as the big man disappeared through the hatch. Hmmm. This was going to be a tougher gig than he’d thought.
Okay, time to take out the heavy artillery. The greatest test of an actor was crying. Logan was confident he could weep as well as any of the biggest stars in Hollywood.
He caught up with the burly security man at the farm animals exhibit, repairing a gap in the chicken wire that separated the hen from the piglet. Logan entered bawling, giving it all he had. The performance was a tour de force. Each full-throated sob threatened to suck the stagnant air out of the cabin. If the Boise’s Grovestand people had seen this, they never would have cut his line. They might even have made him their spokesperson.
A few customers came over to see what the matter was, but Klaus simply said, “If you cry on the animals, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” and ducked through the hatch to another compartment. A moment later, Logan spied his sturdy frame through a porthole, inspecting the paddleboat’s outer deck.
“I’m fine,” he assured the small crowd that had gathered. “I just — uh — stubbed my toe.” It wasn’t very good acting, but these people were not the real audience.
Okay, Logan thought to himself. A performer who couldn’t win over the critics would never get anywhere in show business.
He ran out of the zoo and followed Klaus aft along the narrow deck. When the moment was right, he rushed around the corner to the stern and called, “Hey, mister!”
The big man wheeled. “You again! You’re not supposed to be here —”
Just as Logan was about to launch into his well-rehearsed speech, he looked past Klaus’s giant shoulder and caught sight of Griffin helping Ben down from the roof on the starboard side of the stern. Oh, no! If he couldn’t hold Klaus’s attention now, the security man would turn and catch them in the act.
There is a time in every actor’s career when he has to throw away the script and think on his feet. For Logan Kellerman, that time was now.
He bumped against a life preserver, managing to hip-check it off its hook on the rail. Stumbling carefully, he got his feet tangled up in it. With a pitiful cry for help, he heaved himself over the side and hit the cold water with a resounding splash. There he floundered, thrashing and spitting, obviously in grave danger of drowning.
Shocked, Klaus snatched up the life preserver and tossed it overboard. It hit the water three feet from Logan.
The actor made no attempt to go for it. If he couldn’t distract Klaus long enough to allow Griffin and Ben to escape, this whole improvisation would be for nothing.
“Grab it, kid!” Klaus called down.
“I can’t swim!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” The big man kicked off his shoes and jumped over the side.
Saved.
The only clean towels aboard the paddleboat were in Klaus’s cabin. The best Logan could do was dry his hair and pat his wet clothes while wayward zoo visitors peered curiously in the open hatch.
The compartment was small and spare, with a tiny bunk and a dresser built into the bulkhead. It was hard for Logan to imagine Klaus living here. He seemed larger than the entire room.
The security guard was beyond angry. “Who’s in charge of you, kid? Or were you just placed on this earth to drive me crazy?”
Logan finally found his voice. “My name is Ferris Atwater, Jr.”
“Who brought you here? Where are your parents?”
“They’re picking me up in an hour.”
“Yeah, well, you’re going to be pretty moldy by then.”
Logan allowed his lower lip to quiver.
Klaus was out of patience. “Oh, don’t start that again. Enough with the waterworks. What’s eating you, anyway? Did the world end and nobody told me?”
That was Logan’s cue. “It’s my dad — Ferris Atwater, Sr.,” he began, immersing himself in the character. “He wants me to be a dentist, like him, and I just know I’d hate it. It’s my dream to be” — he paused for effect — “a security guard.”
Klaus snorted. “You’re kidd
ing, right? You mean like me?”
“Exactly like you,” Logan confirmed admiringly. “I mean, all these animals, this whole exhibit — none of it could happen if you weren’t watching out to make sure everything’s safe. You just saved my life today.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“All the happiness people get out of this zoo,” Logan went on. “You make that possible. What could be better?”
The big man sighed. “It’s not as glamorous as you think. For one thing, look where I live. I have to stop breathing if I want to turn around in here. The boss is sitting pretty in a hotel onshore, while I sleep here to mind the store.”
“Really?” Logan knew that was a wrinkle Griffin wasn’t going to be thrilled about. “Why can’t you just lock up the boat for the night?”
Klaus shrugged. “We do that, too. But these are animals, not coconuts. They have to be monitored.”
“What if one of the animals needs you, but you can’t hear it because you’re asleep?”
Klaus smiled, warming up a little. “That’s something you’ve got to learn if you’re going to make it in the security game. You have to be a light sleeper like me. Any sign of trouble, I can be out of this bunk and over there with the cages in the blink of an eye.”
Griffin was going to like that even less.
11
Pitch Benson had scratches over 80 percent of her body, but at least the scenery was nice. From her perch near the top of the perimeter fence, the Rutherford Point Preserve was truly a picture postcard — green rolling lawns and sparkling blue water.
“Hey, you! Get down from there!”
A middle-aged woman in a Parks Department uniform stood on the grass below, staring angrily up at her. Carefully, Pitch began her descent, picking her way along the iron posts and the prickly branches and limbs all around them. The twenty-five-foot barrier looked easy enough from the road. But on the preserve side, it was covered with dense overgrowth. For the past half hour, she had worked her way along the boundary, scraped by thorns and barbs, searching for a weak spot where the team might be able to get through. Nothing. These bushes and shrubs probably hadn’t been pruned in the nearly two centuries since Rutherford himself had lived here. The spiky foliage was bad enough, but vines of glistening poison ivy slithered through the greenery just about every where. This place was better protected than an army base.
“Sorry.”
The park lady watched in amazement as she clambered down and jumped to the ground. “Are you crazy? You could have broken your neck!”
“Tell me about it.” Pitch tossed her hair over her shoulder as she jogged off toward All Aboard Animals.
She found Griffin, Ben, and Melissa by the dock. By now, the queue of people waiting to board the paddleboat stretched all the way to the parking lot. “Imagine standing in line for that zoo,” she said. “Kind of like taking a number to see a cockroach infestation.”
“Only grosser,” Griffin agreed.
Melissa agitated her head, allowing her beady eyes to peer through the curtain of hair. “Where’s Logan?”
“He’s not back yet,” Ben replied nervously. “Griffin, I’ve got a bad feeling about this. We sent a reject from an orange juice commercial to take on the Incredible Hulk.”
“He’ll be fine,” Griffin said, unconcerned. “He’s acting.”
At that moment, a smiling Logan stepped off the gangway with none other than Klaus by his side. They shared a hearty handshake that crushed Logan’s bones from knuckles to fingertips. Then, as the security man disappeared back into All Aboard Animals, Logan rejoined his zoobreak teammates.
Pitch stared at him. “What happened? Why are you all wet?”
“It was an improvisation.”
“A what?” Ben blurted.
Logan explained how he’d taken a dive off the paddleboat in order to prevent Klaus from discovering Griffin and Ben.
Griffin was impressed. “That was some quick thinking, man. You might have saved the entire operation. And at the same time, you were able to get close to Klaus and learn his habits.”
Logan nodded proudly. “He’s a very light sleeper who hears every little peep coming from the animals.”
“So how do we keep him from stopping us when we’re on the boat, rescuing Cleopatra?” Ben asked.
Logan looked completely blank. “How should I know? I’m just an actor.”
Griffin blew his stack. “That was the whole point of the acting job in the first place! You weren’t auditioning for a starring role on Broadway; you were trying to find a way around Klaus!”
“That’s going to be hard,” Logan offered.
“Great,” Griffin groaned. “We’re back to the drawing board. How could it be worse?”
“I know how,” Pitch put in mournfully. In a somber voice she reported her difficulties getting over the perimeter fence around the preserve.
“But scaling the fence is the key to everything!” Griffin smacked his forehead. “If we can’t get onto the preserve, the whole plan is shot.”
Pitch looked as distressed as he sounded. “Sorry, Griffin. I’m not even sure I could make it myself. The rest of you — forget it. And remember, we’d have to climb it twice — once on the way in and again when we’re smuggling the monkey out.”
Ben put a hand on Griffin’s shoulder. “It’s not like the plan was totally perfect except for this. We didn’t even have a way to get to the preserve on zoobreak night.”
Griffin was unconsoled. “We would have figured something out. Worst comes to worst, we could have taken the bus. But now …” His voice trailed off.
“We should go,” Pitch announced. From the parking lot, Mr. Benson was waving and beckoning.
Her father seemed surprised by the procession of long faces as he loaded the Land Cruiser. “I guess the zoo was kind of a disappointment the second time around.” He frowned at the soggy Logan. “What happened to you?”
“They were hosing down a squirrel, and he got caught in the crossfire,” Pitch told him.
The back of the SUV was a very quiet place as Mr. Benson drove up the winding road that led to the gate of the preserve.
“So I guess the plan’s off, right?” Ben whispered, hoping Griffin wouldn’t detect the relief in his voice.
“The plan’s never off,” Griffin hissed back stubbornly. “There’s always another way — a possibility we haven’t thought of yet.”
“You can’t pull a zoobreak if you can’t get to the zoo,” Ben reasoned. “The only way to reach All Aboard Animals is from the preserve.”
Suddenly, the road veered to the right, and the complete picture was laid out before them — the dock, the paddleboat, and the sparkling blue of Long Island Sound.
Griffin squeezed Ben’s forearm hard enough to splinter bone. “You’re wrong. There’s another approach to that ship. By water.”
“You’re nuts!” Logan exclaimed in a low voice. “What are we supposed to do — swim here?”
“We’ll come by boat,” Griffin replied readily.
Even shy Melissa was galvanized, her beady eyes wide. “Where are we going to get a boat?”
Ben understood all too well. “Oh, no, you don’t! Not him! No way!”
12
Darren Vader wore his Grinch smile — a diabolical grin that stretched from ear to ear. “Really? The Man With The Plan needs me to be part of one of his world-famous operations? What an honor!”
It was Monday, after lunch. Griffin, Ben, and Savannah had followed Darren out of the cafeteria and cornered him at his locker.
Griffin scowled. He had never been a Darren fan and did not relish the idea of involving him in the zoobreak. “You won’t be part of the operation, just transportation. Like bank robbers need a wheelman to drive the getaway car. Only instead of driving, you’ll be sailing.”
“A sail man,” Ben added.
The smile faded. “You’re some piece of work, Bing. You’re asking for my help, but I’m not good enough to be there when y
ou boost Drysdale’s monkey.”
“That’s better for you,” Griffin argued. “Less involved means less trouble if we get caught.”
“Right,” the big boy said sarcastically. “All I have to do is sneak out in the middle of the night, steal my dad’s boat, and sail you to Rutherford Point so you can break into private property and kidnap a zoo animal.”
“Hey,” piped up Savannah, “Cleo is rightfully mine.”
“That’s your opinion, not the cops’. So don’t talk to me about being less involved. I’d be involved enough to ask this question —” Darren leaned against the wall, stroking at chin whiskers that were not there. “What’s in it for me?”
“We’re helping Savannah,” Griffin explained.
“That’s what’s in it for Drysdale. What’s in it for me? I’ll give you a hint — ka-ching!”
“You mean money?” Ben asked in amazement. “There’s no money.”
“Sorry, guys. It’ll never work.” Darren glanced at the hall clock. “Recess time, already? I think I hear a soccer ball calling my name —” He took a step toward the double doors.
“I’ll pay you!” Savannah blurted suddenly.
Darren froze, his Grinch smile reblooming. “Now we’re talking. Okay, let’s see — a half-day sailboat rental with an experienced captain —”
“Experienced at ripping people off,” Ben put in resentfully.
“— plus danger pay — three hundred bucks!”
“Aw, come on!” Griffin exploded. “What kid can get his hands on that kind of money?”
Savannah didn’t even blink. This might have been a game to Darren, but she took Cleopatra’s future very seriously. “I don’t have that much. But I’ll give you my allowance for the next three months.”
Darren’s eyes narrowed. “Six.”
“Done.”
Griffin pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Darren. It was a detailed map of the north shore of Long Island, with Cedarville’s marina and the Rutherford Point Preserve highlighted. “Commit this route to memory. We don’t want to end up in Bermuda.”