The Wolf Keepers
Sonya, one of the women who worked there, smiled at her. “You’re here early, Lizzie. What can I get you?”
“A hamburger with onion rings and a vanilla milk shake, please,” Lizzie told her.
“And one of those giant cookies, too,” the boy called.
“What kind?”
“You choose,” he answered magnanimously. “Something with chocolate.”
“Who’s your friend?” Sonya asked. “He’s here a lot.”
“Just some boy,” Lizzie answered awkwardly.
“From school?” Sonya continued, loading a plastic tray and pushing it across the counter toward Lizzie. “He must live in town.”
Lizzie nodded vaguely. “Thanks, Sonya. See you later.”
She walked back to the table and had barely set down the tray before the boy was ripping the foil off the hamburger and cramming it into his mouth. “Mmmm,” he mumbled, mouth full. “Nice and hot.” He hesitated, then thrust it toward her. “Want some?”
Lizzie shook her head, watching with a mixture of wonder and fascination as he devoured it. Once again, he stopped short of finishing it, which seemed to take a conscious effort, and wrapped the remainder in a piece of foil.
He took a long slurp of the milk shake and leaned back in his chair. “So you can do this any old day at all? Just come down here and get food for free?”
Lizzie nodded.
He said something under his breath and shook his head. “That is some life. I mean, you are lucky, you know?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty great,” Lizzie agreed.
“Onion ring?” He tilted the cardboard carton toward her.
She didn’t really feel like eating an onion ring so soon after her breakfast, but it seemed like maybe this was a test of something. She remembered what her father had told her about food sharing among animals … that it was an expression of friendship or a sign of allegiance.
“Sure,” she said, taking a small one. “So…” She hesitated. “I know where you’re staying. Behind the elephant house.”
The boy stiffened and stared at her. “What are you talking about? I am not. I just … I come here first thing, most mornings. I like walking around. By myself,” he added. He scanned the plaza anxiously.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Lizzie said, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not worried.” He quickly sucked down the rest of his milk shake. Then he balled up his trash, tossing it in a nearby bin, and stood up. Gathering what was left of his hamburger, along with the cookie, he said, “See you around.”
“I haven’t told anyone yet,” Lizzie said, watching him.
“What’s your problem?” he snapped, leaning over her. “Why don’t you just leave me alone? You come here anytime you want, get your food all day for free. What do you know about anything?”
Lizzie stood up, too, looking straight into his wary face. “Stop yelling. Just tell me who you are. Maybe I can help you.”
“Help me? Help me? I don’t need your help.”
He stomped angrily across the plaza.
She ran right after him.
“Come on. I can get you food. I can find you a better place to stay. I grew up here! Just tell me who you are.”
He was walking quickly now, almost running, but he slowed down and looked at her. “Why? Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”
She shrugged. The truth was, she couldn’t say why she wanted so badly to help him. But the thought of him sleeping on the cold ground, in the bushes behind the elephant house, made her feel desperate to do something.
He kept staring at her, his brows knitted over his big eyes. She liked his face, even when he was scowling at her … the smooth, warm brown of it framed by wiry curls.
He turned and started walking again, but more slowly.
Lizzie kept pace with him. “What’s your name?”
There was a long silence. “Tyler,” he said finally. “Tyler Briggs.”
“I’m Lizzie Durango.”
“You told me that already.”
“Where’s your family?” She knew better than to ask where he lived, because clearly the zoo was where he lived now. But how long had he been here? He was skinny, but a natural kind of skinny. He didn’t look like he was starving.
He glared at her. “I don’t have one,” he said.
“Sure you do,” Lizzie coaxed. “Everyone has a family. Even if you’re mad at them.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“I don’t have a mom,” Lizzie offered. “But I have a dad, and I live with him. So who do you live with? I mean, before you … came here.”
“Foster family,” he muttered. “And I’m not going back there.”
Lizzie studied his profile. “Oh.”
They kept walking, and Lizzie saw that they were headed in the direction of the elephant house. Was he taking her back to his hideout?
“Did something happen to your mom and dad?” she asked.
His face clouded with anger. “Everything that happened to them, they did to themselves.”
Lizzie looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
But Tyler only stared at the ground and marched ahead of her.
She tried a different tack. “Well … what’s wrong with your foster family? Why did you run away?”
“I didn’t run away!” he snapped. “I just, you know, came down here for a while. For a break.”
“Okay, okay,” Lizzie said. “Don’t get mad. Were they mean to you or something?”
He shook his head. “Nah. They’re fine. But they got six other kids living in that house. Well, five since Jesse left. And anyway, they go to church all the time. I’m done with that.”
“Who’s Jesse?” Lizzie asked. It seemed like the first personal thing he’d said, a clue dangling in front of her. If she followed it, she thought it might lead back to something important.
But Tyler’s mouth clapped shut.
“Six kids,” Lizzie said, trying to keep him talking. “That’s a lot.”
“Yeah. They won’t even know I’m gone.” He walked faster.
As they came up the rise toward the elephant house, Belle turned toward them and flapped her ears. Lizzie had seen her do this when her keeper approached, a happy greeting. The huge elephant ambled across the dusty yard, looking straight at Tyler.
Lizzie stared at him, and she could see his face change. He started to smile in spite of himself. “The elephants know you,” she said in disbelief.
“Well, duh,” Tyler said. “This is where I hang out.”
Belle came to the edge of the moat and stretched her long, sinuous trunk toward the railing, while the crowd of tourists shrieked in delight.
Lizzie looked from the elephant back to Tyler, suddenly indignant. “You’ve been feeding her! That’s why she’s excited to see you.”
He shrugged. “Not much. I throw her a french fry sometimes.”
“You can’t do that. It’ll make her sick.”
“I’m careful,” he said. “I don’t give her meat or anything.”
Lizzie shuddered, thinking of what her father would say. Tyler picked up a stick from the ground and walked over to the railing. He stepped onto its lowest rung and leaned far into space, stretching out his arm, waving the stick. On the other side of the moat, Belle’s trunk felt through the air, for all the world like a hand reaching toward him. The rubbery tip curled around the branch and tugged gently, pulling it from Tyler’s grip.
The crowd whooped, and Lizzie could see Tyler’s shy grin of delight. She briefly worried that Belle would pull him forward over the wall—the elephants, as gentle as they were, had amazing strength—but when Belle realized he wasn’t holding any food, she turned away, sweeping the branch back and forth over the dusty ground.
“Hey, kid, you’re not supposed to do that,” a man said sharply, and Tyler stepped down from the railing.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, in the voice of someone used
to being scolded.
He waited until the throng of people turned their attention back to the elephants, then motioned to Lizzie.
“C’mon,” he said softly, walking along the fence toward the side of the elephant enclosure.
Together, they slipped over the railing and ran through the bushes to the wooded area behind the elephant house.
Chapter 7
A SAFE PLACE
WADING INTO THE shrubbery, Tyler began gathering his things. He shook the blanket and a shower of dust, grass, and tiny twigs rained down. It didn’t look nearly comfortable enough to sleep on, Lizzie thought.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Moving my stuff,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I can’t stay here now that you found it.”
“But I told you I wouldn’t say anything.”
“Why should I believe you? And anyway, if you figured out I’m here, it’s only a matter of time before somebody else does.” He glanced at her resentfully, tucking the leftover hamburger and the cookie into the backpack.
Lizzie knelt on the hard ground and scooped up the trash. “How long have you been—” She started to say “living here,” but he seemed so sensitive about the implications of that, she changed it to “staying here?”
“Not long.”
“A week? A month?”
“No!” Tyler snorted, as if the very idea were absurd. He rolled up the blanket and tucked it under one arm, hoisting the strap of the backpack over his shoulder.
Lizzie didn’t want him to leave. Most of all, she didn’t want to be the reason he left. She tried to keep him talking.
“Why’d you come here? I mean, the zoo.”
He looked at her in surprise. “It feels safe. No cops around. No people who’d be watching me.”
Lizzie nodded. That seemed true. The zoo was like the beach or the playground or the movie theater. Everybody was there for a happy reason.
“And…” Tyler hesitated, as if deciding how much to tell her. “I came here last summer for camp. Jesse was one of the counselors, and they let me come, cuz I like animals. I like animals better than people.”
Lizzie smiled at him. “Me too,” she said. She knew about the zoo day camp; it was popular with the local schoolkids, who got to run around the zoo playing games and learning about the animals. Maybe that’s why Tyler looked familiar to her. It occurred to her suddenly that maybe one reason he felt comfortable at the zoo was that the animals were kind of like him—out of place, away from where they really wanted to be.
“Is Jesse your brother?” she asked.
Tyler’s face closed. “No. I told you, I don’t got a family.”
“But then where will you go?” she persisted.
He shrugged. “Maybe somewhere in town.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Lizzie said, worried. “You can’t just be a homeless person.”
“I’m not homeless!” Tyler snapped. “I’m … between places.”
“Okay, okay.” She took the blanket from him, ignoring his resistance. “Listen. Come with me. I know where we can go.” And in a moment of inspiration, she did. The garage apartment! It was never used except when her grandmother visited. Her father wouldn’t even know Tyler was there.
“We? There’s no ‘we,’” Tyler answered.
“Okay, you,” Lizzie said. “Don’t you want free food and a place to stay? I have a great idea.” She could see his resolve faltering. “Oh, just come on, Tyler.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to my house,” Lizzie told him. “My dad and I live right here at the zoo, and we have an apartment over the garage that we only use when my grandma comes to visit. You can stay up there.”
“What? That’s worse than here! Somebody will see me.”
“No, it’s down a long driveway.”
Tyler looked unconvinced. “But what about your dad? Nobody can know I’m there. For real.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“If anybody finds out, they’ll send me back.”
Lizzie sighed. “Listen, my dad never goes up there. He won’t know as long as you don’t make a lot of noise or have the light on at night. And after he leaves for work, you can do whatever you want.”
When Tyler still hesitated, Lizzie groaned in frustration. “Don’t you want to? It’ll be so much better than this, I promise.”
He settled his backpack on his shoulder and looked around. “Nobody bothered me here. Until you. And I made friends with the elephants.”
“Well, they’ll still be your friends. You know what they say about elephants—”
“Yeah, I know what they say,” he interrupted. “Elephants never forget.”
He stood, not moving, and for a minute, Lizzie thought he was going to refuse. But then he said, “Okay. Let’s go.”
So they hurried around the corner of the building. A man pushing a double stroller glanced at them curiously as they stepped over the guardrail. Lizzie dumped her armload of trash into one of the bins.
“This way,” she said, leading Tyler down the path in the direction of her house.
As they passed the sprawling brick building that housed the tropical rain forest, Tyler said, “Hey, let’s cut through here.”
“Sure,” Lizzie agreed. They pushed through the double doors into the warm fog of air. They were immediately surrounded by lush jungle. A wide boardwalk wound its way through leafy trees and huge, tropical flowers, while high above, colorful birds swooped and chattered. The walkway was crowded with people, but Tyler maneuvered confidently to the area by the exit. Here, behind a glass window, the big turquoise-and-gold macaw clutched the limb of a tree. It stared at them.
Tyler’s face broke into a grin and he bobbed his head up and down. The parrot immediately bobbed its head in response.
Lizzie looked at him in surprise.
“Yeah, I taught it how to do that,” he said casually.
“You did?” She’d been hoping she could get the parrot to squawk at them, but that no longer seemed so impressive.
“And I’ll show you something else,” Tyler said. His voice sounded eager in a way Lizzie hadn’t heard before.
He crossed the exhibit area to the viewing window for the pygmy marmosets. Of all the rain forest animals, these tiny monkeys were Lizzie’s favorites, small enough to fit inside a person’s hand. They were shy and often darted into the holes of their tree-trunk home, but it was fun to watch them scamper and hide.
When Lizzie and Tyler approached the glass, the two monkeys were huddled inside their burrow, their tiny, intense faces peeking out of the darkness.
“Shhhh, watch,” Tyler whispered. “I’ll get them to come out.”
He stood very still and made a soft clicking noise with his tongue. The monkeys cocked their heads and blinked their bright eyes. After a few seconds, one poked its head out of the hole, watching Tyler.
Slowly, Tyler walked to the other side of the window, still clicking his tongue. Suddenly, both monkeys emerged, running along the tree branch, following him.
“See? These little guys love me,” he said happily.
Just then, a bunch of kids rushed over, elbowing Lizzie aside.
“Look!”
“The monkeys are out now!”
“Mommy, come see.”
With the commotion, the monkeys promptly dove for cover, and Lizzie and Tyler also fled, through the exit doors into the dry summer heat.
“You must go there all the time,” Lizzie said in amazement. “I mean, I do, too, but—” She didn’t want to admit that she’d never figured out how to lure the marmosets into leaving their burrow.
“Well, I can’t get in at night,” Tyler said. “They lock the doors. But yeah, I like the Rain Forest. It feels like someplace really far away, you know?”
Lizzie nodded, and in that instant she understood why, for Tyler, the zoo had seemed such a good place to run away to. It was so different from anywhere else, a total escape.
“T
his is a shortcut,” she told Tyler, stepping over a guardrail and leading the way through the bushes behind the Barnyard.
As usual, the goats trotted over to the fence, full of curiosity. Tyler stopped to scratch their heads, and they butted under his hand.
“Okay,” Lizzie said, feeling a little annoyed. “Are there any animals here you haven’t made friends with?”
He grinned at her helplessly. “Hey, I’m king of the zoo.”
“The goats are interested in everybody,” Lizzie said dismissively. “See? They like me too.” She stroked their wiry fur.
“Well, that’s probably just cuz you live here,” Tyler said. “They’re used to you. They actually like me.” He was still smiling, and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing her.
“What about the wolves?” she said. She thought of Lobo and the way he came up to the fence and watched her. Did he do that with Tyler, too?
Tyler shook his head. “Nah, they stay way in the back,” he said, and she felt a rush of relief. “Plus, there are always people in that cage,” he added.
Lizzie turned to him, startled. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Just what I said. Even at night I’ve seen people in there. So I don’t hang out by the wolves cuz I don’t want anyone to see me.”
Lizzie frowned. “I don’t know who’d be in Wolf Woods at night. Maybe you saw one of the custodians cleaning up? But they’re never inside the pen.”
Tyler seemed unperturbed. “All I’m saying is, I see a lot of stuff around here after dark that nobody else sees.” He started to say more, but then seemed to change his mind.
“Well, I live here.” Lizzie glared at him. “So I’m sure you haven’t seen more stuff than I have.” Who did he think he was? Bragging about being king of the zoo.
“If you say so,” Tyler answered, clearly unconvinced. “Where’s your house, anyway?”
“We would have been there already if you didn’t keep stopping,” Lizzie told him. She strode through the bushes in the direction of home.
* * *
As they walked down the long drive, Tyler looked around with interest. “So you live back here? Inside the zoo?”
“Yep,” Lizzie said.
“For your whole life?”
“Well, not when I was a baby. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve lived here with my dad.”