Mary Anne and the Zoo Mystery

  Leading the groaning was me. I couldn’t believe who was in my group — Howie Johnson and Alan Gray, the most disgusting boys in eighth grade. I threw up my arms in despair. “With those two, no way would we win anything.”

  “Mine’s not so bad,” Dawn said cheerily. “In fact, I like my group a lot.”

  I searched for her name. “Not fair. You’re with Logan and Claudia. How did that happen? Want to trade?”

  “Not in a million years.”

  I was so upset about my group arrangement that I wasn’t aware of anyone else’s predicament.

  “Oh, poor Kristy,” Dawn said. “What’s she going to do?”

  From Dawn’s reaction, I thought maybe Kristy had ended up with an even more obnoxious person than Alan — if that’s possible. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Who’s she with?”

  “Lauren Hoffman and … Stacey.”

  “But Stacey’s a good student,” I replied.

  “Hello?” Dawn pretended to knock on my head. “Stacey McGill ex-BSC treasurer, remember?”

  “Oh, gosh,” I said, wide-eyed. “I totally forgot about that.”

  “The group presenting the best report,” continued Mrs. Gonzalez, “will not only receive extra credit on their year-end grade but also a free day’s admission to Aqua World in Bridgeport, complete with a personal behind-the-scenes tour.”

  The auditorium was buzzing with excitement as we headed for our first-period class.

  Claudia rushed to Dawn and hugged her. “We’re together. All right!”

  “Boy, you got to hand it to Gonzalez,” Logan said, joining us at the double doors leading out of the auditorium. “She sure knows how to get a project off to a good start.”

  “You guys, we really have to win,” Claudia said to Dawn and Logan. “I need that extra credit.”

  “And a visit to Aqua World wouldn’t be too bad either, would it?” Logan kidded.

  “Attention, students.” Alan Gray’s voice pierced the air. “You might as well pack it in right now. I have this project, the extra credit, and that trip to Aqua World all sewn up.”

  “In your dreams, Gray,” said Logan. “I’ll send you a postcard from Aqua World.”

  “Don’t bother to send it,” Alan shot back. “You can hand it to me, because I’ll be there before you.” The way Alan and Logan talked, you’d think they were the only two students in the competition. Someone needed to explain the meaning of teamwork to them. I hoped it wouldn’t have to be me.

  That afternoon, I met with my team (Alan and Howie) on the front steps of SMS. It was a short meeting. We didn’t discuss the zoo or how much fun the project was going to be. All we talked about was how important it was to win.

  “We better get this extra credit or it’s —” (Alan drew his finger across his neck making a cutting sound) “— for me.”

  Howie nodded. “Me, too.”

  I got the distinct impression that their grades were in big trouble.

  I tried to reassure Alan and Howie that things would be okay.

  “I’m going to do my best and work really hard on this project —” I began.

  “But I wouldn’t count on winning,” Logan said, joining us on the steps. He was grinning, but staring straight at Alan.

  This was very weird. Logan seemed determined to beat Alan, which of course meant he was determined to beat me.

  “Want to make a bet?” Alan challenged him. “How much?”

  Logan’s jaw tensed for a second, ready to take the challenge. Then he reverted to his friendly, polite self. “I’m sorry, Alan,” Logan said with a smile. “But I don’t make bets. I think we should just do our project and may the best man — uh, group — win.”

  A slow smile spread across Alan’s face. “Right.”

  I had been looking forward to the project and spending time at Bedford Zoo, but this rivalry between Logan and Alan added a new, unpleasant twist to things.

  That afternoon, during the BSC meeting, I was reminded that I wasn’t the only one distressed about the group arrangement.

  “I can’t ride on the bus with Stacey and spend every afternoon staring at giraffes with her,” Kristy moaned to the group. “I mean, that would be totally awful.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Claudia asked, passing a bag of pretzels around the room. Everyone took one and chewed intently, thinking about our dilemmas.

  “I think we shouldn’t go to the zoo,” Kristy said with a shrug. “Lauren agrees with me.

  “What?” Dawn said. “But that’s the fun of the project.”

  Kristy shook her head. “I can’t get on a bus with Stacey and work that closely with her. I’m just not ready to do that.”

  “But how will you be able to study your animal?” I asked.

  “We’ll study the everyday habits of dogs,” Kristy said. “Separately. Mrs. Gonzalez said we could study our pets. I’ll spend my afternoons watching my dog, Shannon. Lauren will study her retriever.”

  “But Stacey doesn’t have a dog,” I pointed out. “She doesn’t have a pet of any kind.”

  “Too bad,” Kristy replied stubbornly. “She’ll just have to go find one.”

  Mallory had been quietly listening to all of us complain. “I guess she could study Pow,” she said. (Pow is the Pikes’ bassett hound.) “He does some amazingly silly things. And since Stacey lives right behind us, it would be easy for her to observe him.”

  “Good idea, Mal,” Kristy said, softening a little. “Maybe Lauren can suggest it to her.”

  “That solves Kristy’s problem,” Dawn said, turning to face me. “But what about Mary Anne’s?”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Mine is more complicated, especially since it involves you and Claudia.”

  Claudia, who had just shoved a handful of pretzels in her mouth, mumbled, “Pwoblem? Me?”

  I explained the Alan Gray versus Logan rivalry that had sprung up that day. “It’s weird because, let’s face it, we all want to win. But now Alan wants to beat Logan. And Logan really wants to cream Alan. But if Alan gets creamed, so do I.”

  Claudia listened wide-eyed to what I was saying and then collapsed back against the headboard of her bed. “Whoa.”

  Then Dawn changed the subject a little. “As long as we’re discussing this project, I have to say that I am not a fan of zoos. I feel terrible for the animals, no matter how clean their cages look.”

  Claudia gulped down the last of her pretzel and turned to Dawn. “You’re not suggesting we study house cats like Tigger, are you?”

  “Well, uh, no,” Dawn stammered. “It’s just that … well, I just wanted you to know that I’m not crazy about zoos.”

  “You’ll get over it,” Claudia said with a wave of her hand. “Especially after you meet Mojo and James.”

  Dawn squinted one eye shut. “Mojo? The gorilla?”

  “That’s right,” I answered. “I showed you her picture in the paper. Remember?”

  “I still think Mojo is a weird name,” Dawn remarked, shaking her head. “So who’s James?”

  Claudia grinned. “Mojo’s mate. They’re on loan from the San Diego Zoo. And — are you ready for this? Mojo communicates by using American Sign Language.”

  That excited everyone. Especially Jessi, who was the first of us to learn American Sign Language when she baby-sat for Matt Braddock, who’s deaf. The rest of us know enough sign language to sit for Matt, but Jessi’s really good at it.

  “You could come along as our interpreter,” I said to Jessi. “You could ask Mojo questions about her life and what she does in a day.”

  “Hold it!” Claudia put her hands on her hips. “Jessi will be our interpreter. I was the one who mentioned the gorillas first.”

  My eyes widened. Claudia was sounding as competitive as Logan and Alan. She saw the expression on my face and softened her tone. “I guess Jessi could translate for all of us.”

  Jessi grinned and made the sign for “okay.”

  Before we could talk about th
e project anymore, the phone started ringing. And it rang. And rang. And rang. We were swamped.

  Dawn took a sitting job with the Gianellis on Tuesday. Shannon accepted one with the Papadakises. I scheduled Kristy and Jessi for Thursday afternoon with the Pike kids, and Mallory took a job with the Hobarts on Friday.

  When we finally had a spare second to chat again, the subject turned to the Free Babar campaign.

  “I mentioned it to Karen and Andrew and they’re really interested,” Kristy said.

  “You can count the entire Pike family in on this project,” Mallory said. “The triplets had a great idea. They suggested we make campaign buttons.”

  “The kids could design them,” Claudia added, inspired. “They could draw elephants on them and maybe put our Babar behind bars.”

  “Then we could sell them,” I suggested. “And donate the proceeds to help find Babar a new home.”

  Dawn had been quiet during the meeting, except for when she mentioned that she wasn’t crazy about zoos. Now she spoke up. “The buttons are a great idea but we need to think bigger in terms of fund-raising. You know, plan something that gets all of Stoneybrook involved.”

  “Like a bake sale?” I asked.

  Dawn shook her head. “Bigger.”

  “A walkathon,” Kristy whispered, staring intently at a spot on Claud’s wall. We could practically see the gears turning inside her head. “That would involve everyone. The mayor, the chamber of commerce, the YMCA. We could make the course wind all over Stoneybrook — through downtown and into all the neighborhoods. People who didn’t participate in the walk would at least see it pass by their house. We could call it an Elephant Walk.”

  “Like the song, ‘Baby Elephant Walk,’ ” Jessi said.

  Kristy grinned. “Exactly.”

  As soon as I heard Kristy’s good idea, I kicked into gear. I flipped to the back of the notebook and tried to record what she had just said. “We need to contact the chamber of commerce and the mayor,” I murmured as I wrote. “What about the Humane Society?”

  Dawn’s head bobbed up and down. “I’m sure they’d want to participate. They could pass out flyers and wear those really cute T-shirts they just made up. The ones with the kittens on the front.”

  “T-shirts!” Claud stood up. “As long as we’re making buttons, why don’t we make T-shirts, too?”

  “Then we could wear them in the Elephant Walk,” Mallory said.

  “Brilliant!” Kristy cried.

  “We’ll need to start on this right away,” I said. “Tell me what you want to do and I’ll write it down. Then we have to call the proper authorities.”

  “I’ll see if Watson will help us on this one,” Kristy said. “He knows all of the town’s officers.”

  I nodded as I made a note of it. “And I’ll talk to the Free Babar people to find out just what they need.”

  Claudia turned to Kristy. “I’d like to help you plan a walking course. We can work from a map and design it together.”

  Mallory raised her hand. “I can write up a special interest story. Maybe the school newspaper will print it.”

  “I could organize kid groups so they can help brainstorm fund-raising ideas, too,” Jessi said. “I’ll start with Becca and her friends.”

  Kristy nodded. “I’ll follow up with Karen and her pals.”

  “And I know seven kids I can talk to,” Mallory added with a grin.

  “I’ll talk to the kids at my school,” Shannon offered. “This would be the perfect way to make it a town-wide project. Maybe we can do a carwash or something in addition to the walkathon.”

  I shook my head in amazement. When the BSC decides to do something, we really go for it. Little Babar would be a free elephant in no time.

  “Winners on my side!”

  Alan Gray drew an imaginary line with the toe of his tennis shoe across the center aisle of the school bus. “And losers over there.” He pointed to the seats behind the bus driver. “Stay put, and you won’t have any trouble.”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “I’m really scared. Come on, Mary Anne,” he said, taking my hand and deliberately pulling me across Alan’s line. “Let’s sit here.”

  It was Thursday, and we were leaving on our first zoo trip. We were off to an extremely bad start.

  Alan and Logan had been making snide comments to each other in the halls, in the lunchroom, and in the yard in front of the school. I thought they were being pretty silly, but I couldn’t say anything to either one of them, because I didn’t want to be accused of taking sides.

  “Are you going to let him sit in that seat?” Howie Johnson whispered to Alan.

  “Of course he is,” I said. “I’m on your team. And Logan’s with me.”

  Alan thought about that for a few moments, then huffed off to the back row of the school bus. After he sat down, he called to me, “Once we hit the zoo, he’s not coming with us. No way.”

  Logan turned around and smiled at Alan. “No problem. I’d much rather spend my time with some other animals — like James and Mojo.”

  Alan turned to Howie and whispered, “Who are they? Some guys from high school?”

  Howie laughed so hard he snorted. “James and Mojo are gorillas.”

  Dawn and Claudia, who were sitting directly across from Logan and me, burst into the giggles, and Alan shot them a dark look. “I knew that.”

  Mr. Kirkwood, who taught shop, had volunteered to be the driver of our bus. He waited outside until all of the eighth-graders assigned to our bus had boarded. Then he hopped into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut.

  “All aboard!” Mr. Kirkwood shouted like a railroad conductor. “Next stop, Bedford Zoo!”

  We pulled out of the school parking lot, and followed the tree-lined streets to the edge of town. As we turned onto the highway, several spitballs zinged over our heads. I didn’t have to turn around. I could guess where they’d come from.

  “Oh, gross!” Shawna Riverson cried from two seats in front of me. “Alan and Howie are shooting spitballs.”

  Hannah Toce looked over her shoulder and snapped, “Why don’t you two grow up?”

  Then Claudia and Dawn both turned around and said, “Yeah. Grow up!”

  Howie and Alan crossed their eyes and made faces at the front of the bus.

  “Jerks,” Hannah said as a general announcement to the rest of the bus. A low murmur and bobbing of heads signaled that everyone agreed with her.

  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 bumping 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 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 recor
d. 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 space 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 assistant, 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 glasses. 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.”