She pulled the monkeys fingers out of my ears and repeated her sentence: “Come on, Billy. Let’s take this monkey to the zoo.”
“Wow,” I whispered. “I heard that loud and clear. Thanks, Razzle.”
“What are you thanking him for?” Jillian asked.
“I think he got all of the wax out of my ears,” I said.
Razzle smiled and then licked his fingers.
You know what they say: one man’s earwax is another man’s frosting.
Oops. Wrong Way.
Imagine the picture. A clear black sky lit by a bright white moon. I was following Jillian, riding my bike with Razzle on my back. The road was under my tires, the feel of the wind was in my hair, and monkey claws were digging into my shoulders.
It was eleven o’clock that Saturday night. We were pedaling like crazy.
“Ooo! Ooo!” Razzle kept screeching.
I swear that hairy little guy knew we were headed to the zoo.
We passed by a Beggin’ fer Burgers. The smell of bacon burgers filled the night air and went up my nostrils. “Jillian, let’s stop—”
“No way.” My sister kept pedaling. “We don’t have time.”
“Next time you want to invent something,” I called out to her, “invent me a sister who likes bacon burgers as much as me.”
She did not reply.
When we got to the zoo, Jillian used the Popper to unlock the back gate. We left our bikes by a Dumpster and headed toward the Monkey House. The moonlight cast eerie shadows, making the trees and buildings look creepy. We tiptoed past the Small Mammal House, the Reptile House, and a large grassy picnic area badly in need of mowing.
The zoo really did need some gardening help!
As we passed by a low brick wall, Razzle jumped onto my head and started screeching.
To my right, a huge RRROOOOOAAAARRRR split the air. The Lions’ Den!
Razzle jumped onto Jillian’s head, and she and I took off running.
We were out of breath by the time we got to the Monkey House.
Razzle was beyond excited. He leaped onto the bars of the house. In the dim light, we could see the other monkeys coming to greet him.
“Eehhe!” Razzle’s sister, Dazzle, jumped up and down on the platform, waving her arms.
“Now, that’s a sister who appreciates her bro,” I said.
Razzle jumped onto Jillian’s shoulder and grabbed the Popper. Before Jillian could stop him, he pointed it at the cage door. CLICK!
NO!
All the monkeys rushed out to welcome him! Dazzle was first and she gave Razzle a big hug.
“Get back in!” Jillian shouted.
Razzle and Dazzle held hands and jumped up and down.
I tried to chase the monkeys back in the cage while Jillian tried to get the Popper out of Razzle’s hand. But Razzle pushed the button again.
“OH, NO!” Jillian screamed.
The Popper was pointed at the gate to the Giraffe Village.
A beautiful slender giraffe trotted out, followed by another and another and another. They started nibbling on the leaves of the trees.
“Razzle!” Jillian exclaimed. “Give that back right now.”
Razzle turned to the left and pushed the button again. Out leaped the gazelles. They took off for the meadow. Grinning, he faced the Elephant Yard.
“Yo, monkey boy!” I said. “Stop messing with the hardware. Now, give it up.” I held out my hand.
Razzle looked at me, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. Then he pushed the button.
The heavy metal gate groaned as it opened. An elephant stomped out and stopped to go to the bathroom right in the middle of the sidewalk.
I guess elephants don’t need privacy.
“Billy,” Jillian yelled, “shut the gate before—”
Too late—a whole crowd of elephants ran out.
A stampede!
The monkeys scampered up into the trees.
“Run!” Jillian yelled.
The elephants were running straight at us.
What happened next felt as if it happened in slow motion. Jillian and I ran, the pounding of huge elephant feet in our ears, the smell of elephant you-know-what in our nostrils. We ran for our lives. And when you are running for your life, you are not always thinking clearly. We ran …
Right into the monkeys’ cage.
You can probably guess what happened next.
Yep.
Razzle smiled and locked us in.
Would You Like to Swing on a Tire?
From inside the locked Monkey House, we watched more elephants march out of the Elephant Yard. Several of them stopped to leave a souvenir along the way.
“Droppings” is a polite way to describe the doo-doo that elephants will do-do on the sidewalk if you let them. Another word is elephant “pie.”
But I have to tell you, when it comes to elephants, a “dropping” or a “pie” is more like a GIANT STINK BOMB. We could smell it in the Monkey House even with our noses plugged.
But that, of course, wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was that I still had wax in my ears. Just kidding. The real problem was that the snack bar was closed. Just kidding. Sort of. Actually, the real problem was that we had more than one problem.
Problems:
1. We were locked in the Monkey House.
2. Monkeys, giraffes, gazelles, and elephants were running wild.
3. My stomach was growling.
“A Tootie Frootie Smoothie would taste good right now,” I said.
“Focus, Billy,” Jillian said.
“Well,” I said, “we are lucky about a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Like, at least Razzle didn’t let out the lions and tigers and bears.”
“Not yet!” she said. “We have to get the Popper back before he does!”
I climbed onto a platform.
“Are you climbing up to get a better view of the zoo?” Jillian asked.
“No. I’m climbing up to play on the tire swing,” I said. “If you get locked in the Monkey House, you might as well have a little fun, Jillian. That’s how I roll.”
“Have a little fun?” My sister gave me one of her looks.
“Yeah. You know, have fun, get your swing on, go ape.”
“This is serious,” Jillian said. “Razzle!” she called out. “Get over here and hand me that Popper!”
I jumped onto the tire swing and went sailing across the cage.
“Billy! That’s not helping.”
“Yelling at the monkeys isn’t helping, either,” I said.
Jillian plopped down on a bale of hay and stared at her feet. “This is a disaster.”
I swung higher. “Ee eh eh!” I screeched, and laughed.
“This isn’t playtime!” Jillian said.
I locked my legs around the tire, let go of the rope, and hung upside down. “Woooooooo-eeeeeeee!”
My sister’s upside-down face looked as red as a burning stick of dynamite. “Get down from there, Billy.”
The monkeys were looking in at me. “Eh ee eee eee!” I waved.
Razzle and Dazzle waved back. Razzle climbed over to get a better look.
When the tire swing reached the platform, I hopped off. I grabbed a banana. “Ee eh eh!”
“I get it,” Jillian whispered. “Monkey see, monkey do. You’re making them want to come back in!”
Actually, I was getting a banana because I was hungry. But making the monkeys want back in was a good idea.
I stuffed the banana into my mouth and rubbed my tummy. Then I dangled another banana in front of Razzle. While Razzle reached in, I reached out, slipping my fingers between the bars. Quickly, I grabbed ahold of the Popper and slipped it back through.
Score!
“Go, Billy!” Jillian clapped.
I looked at the monkeys. “Dudes, you have to come inside to get bananas!” Pointing the Popper at the door, I pushed the button and the lock popped open.
Ra
zzle and the other monkeys rushed in. Jillian and I ran out, locking the door behind us.
“Billy!” Jillian started dancing. “You’re a genius!”
“Thank you! Thank you!” I bowed to my imaginary audience. Then I stepped in a steaming hot jumbo elephant pie.
What Is Cute and Gray and Wrinkled? Me.
“We have to split up,” Jillian said. “We have to get the animals back in their pens before they figure out a way to leave the zoo. I’ll do the gazelles and giraffes. You do the elephants.”
“Thanks a lot!”
“I’m doing two,” she argued.
I plugged my nose. “But the one I’m doing makes doo-doo pies the size of Montana.”
“That gives me a great idea!” she exclaimed. “I’m going to use a smell to herd the animals back in.”
“A good smell?” I asked. “Like bacon?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll get something that smells like a lion and use it to chase the gazelles and giraffes into their pens.”
“What should I do?”
She shrugged. “Figure something out, Billy.” Off she ran.
How would you get twelve elephants back into the Elephant Yard?
I took off in the direction the elephants had gone. The zoo is a big place, I thought. How am I going to be able to find them? And then I went squish!
Another elephant pie fresh out of the oven, if you know what I mean. Well, I was on the right track. I followed the stinky pies past Great Meadow Trail and down Sea Lion Lane to Birdhouse Walk.
Twelve dark, hunky shapes were standing near the fountain in front of the Birdhouse. A couple of them were drinking out of the fountain.
“Hey,” I said. “Any chance you’d all like to go back home now?”
A couple of birds tweeted. Nothing from the elephants.
I tried Plan B. “Ladies and gentlemen! Free popcorn in the Elephant Yard.”
Not a word.
“Gosh, dudes. You could at least answer,” I said. An elephant at the fountain lifted her trunk and sprayed me.
“Thanks,” I said. “I needed a shower.”
It was better than ketchup.
Moving on to Plan C. Since Monkey See, Monkey Do had worked, then maybe Elephant See, Elephant Do would work. I found two big paper bags in a trash can. I tore elephant ear shapes out of one and twisted strips of the other to form a trunk and a tail. I tore slits in the ears and stuck them onto my own ears. Then I tucked the tail into the back of my pants and held the trunk on my nose.
Slowly, I walked to the front, swaying my trunk. The elephants checked me out. I began to sing a little song.
(TO THE TUNE OF “MY DARLING CLEMENTINE”)
“I’m a darling, I’m a darling, I’m a darling elephant.
I’m so charming, gray, and wrinkled.
I just tinkled in my pants!”
I looked back. The elephants were staring at me.
“Follow me-o, Mama me-o, back to our big stinky yard.
We will dance like Queens of France,
And then we’ll play a game of cards!”
I felt a tug. An elephant had grabbed my tail! She wanted to follow me! I kept singing and walking. Another elephant grabbed her tail. And another and another. It was working!
“To the right-o, to the left-o, let us swing our trunks so high.
Shake our booties, ’cause we’re cuties.
Then we’ll sing our lullaby.”
I led the parade into the Elephant Yard.
“Oh my gnarly, oh my gnarly, oh my gnarly chunky chums.
Time for beddie, rest our headies
And our great big hunky bums!”
All the elephants went in. They actually sat down, resting their great big hunky bums. I ran out and locked the gate. Perhaps there was a career for me in elephant herding. If so, I’d need to buy one thing: a good pair of nose plugs.
I turned around to look for Jillian, and that’s when I saw it. Her torn jacket was on the sidewalk in front of the Gazelle Pen. I ran over and picked it up. Whew! Smelled like a cat.
Uh-oh, I thought. The only kind of cats in here are big ones. What if Jillian had used a lion to scare the gazelles and giraffes back into their yards and then the lion had used her for a midnight snack? Her hair probably still smelled like ketchup, which would have attracted the lion to her even more.
“JILLIAN?” I screamed.
Lion Meat
Let me tell you, when you’re standing all alone in a dark zoo and you think a lion has eaten your twin sister, you really start to miss her.
“Jillian?” I called out. “Are you okay?”
No answer.
When your poor sister doesn’t answer, you start to picture her in your mind. You think about her skinny arms and knobby knees. You realize that she wouldn’t make for a very big snack. She has big ears, but how filling can an ear be? You stop thinking about your poor sister and start thinking about the poor lion, who is probably still hungry. Then you get scared.
“Lion?” I called, my own knobby knees shaking. “If you’re out there, I want you to know that I am much skinnier than my sister.”
No answer.
A cloud slid its dark hand over the moon and the night grew blacker. I shivered.
From behind me came a low growl: “Grrrr.”
Too terrified to turn around, I took one baby step away. “Please don’t eat me!”
“GRRRRR!”
“My arms taste like stale cheese doodles,” I added, taking one more step. “And my legs taste like old celery.”
“GRRRRRRRRRRRR!”
Just as I was about to take off running, claws dug into my shoulders. I screamed! The claws spun me around and I came face to face with … Jillian.
She laughed. “I really got you, Billy!”
I almost wet my pants.
“Very funny,” I said. “And to think I was sad that you might have been lion meat.”
“Aw, my bro loves me!” She punched me on the arm.
“I’m going to get you back when you least expect it, Sis! Hey, by the way, what happened to this?” I held out her jacket.
She grinned. “All part of my plan. I found a clump of lion hair on the bushes by the Lions’ Den and rubbed it all over my jacket. Then I used it to herd the gazelles and giraffes back. Smart, huh?”
Yep. Here’s how Jillian got her animals back in:
And here’s how I got my animals back in:
“Come on, Billy. We have to cover our tracks and scram,” Jillian said.
Covering our tracks meant getting rid of evidence. Usually that meant wiping fingerprints off doorknobs, but in this case it meant cleaning up GIANT STINK BOMBS. We didn’t want anybody to know that the animals had been out of their pens, so we had to make the zoo look normal. We found a couple of shovels in a shed by the Elephant Yard and shoveled all the elephant pies into the flower beds along Great Meadow Trail and then covered that with straw. Afterward, we hosed down the sidewalk.
Finally, we stopped by the Monkey House to say good-bye. Razzle was stuffing his face with bananas.
The clouds had split, and moonlight was shining on us like a spotlight. The sidewalk was sparkling. After all we had been through, I didn’t feel like an ordinary good-bye was enough. This called for a speech.
I hopped up on a bench and held out my arms to the monkeys. “Farewell, monkeys, one and all! And most especially to you, Razzle.” I put one hand over my heart. “I hereby forgive you for all the nasty things you did to me—”
“And me!” Jillian added.
“Yep. We forgive the fingers up our noses and the ketchup on our heads. We’re sure you are a very nice monkey who was upset because our parents kidnapped you. So may you live long and—”
“Eh eeee,” Razzle screeched, and threw a banana peel in my face.
“Okay. Now, that was just plain rude!”
Jillian tugged my shirt. “Come on, we have to get out of here!”
“But—”
/> “Come on, Billy.”
She pulled me off the bench.
“See you later, chump!” I said to Razzle.
He laughed.
Cakewalk
Whew. Who knew monkeys were so much work?
We got our bikes and rode home. We were hoping the wind would carry the smell off our clothes. But by the time we pulled into our driveway, we still stank.
We snuck into the house, peeked in on Mom and Dad to make sure they were still asleep, removed the pillows and toilet-paper rolls from our beds, and changed into fresh clothes. Jillian opened my window to make it look as if Razzle had escaped. And then we tiptoed down to the kitchen. We were hungry and wanted a snack before going back to bed.
I pulled out the cake. Get Well, Grandpa Nelson. Yum. Nobody had sliced into it yet. I got a knife and …
I just couldn’t do it. I kept thinking about old Mr. Nelson next door and how he might be sick.
“Let’s make a delivery,” I said, and she nodded.
We ran out and put the cake on a little table on his front porch. We were about to leave when Jillian noticed weeds growing in his flower bed. She looked at me with a smile. Yank! Yoink! Yank! Take that!
Two good deeds in one from Billy and Jillian Crook. Yep. That’s how we roll.
When we got home, we found peanut butter and spread it on … what else? Bananas!
“Even though he was a pain, I’m going to miss Razzle,” Jillian said.
To cheer her up, I hopped on my chair and started making monkey faces. She laughed so hard, she knocked over the jar of peanut butter.
We heard a sound upstairs.
“They’re up!” Jillian whispered. “Act normal!”
“How?” I whispered back. “I don’t know what to say!”
“Just eat!” She shoved a banana in my face.
In the middle of a bite, Mom and Dad walked in.
“What are you two doing here?” Mom asked. “We heard noises.”