by Peg Kehret
Thunk! Fur brushed past Corey’s face. Instinctively, he reached out and tried to grab the monkey. The tail slipped through his fingers just as the man dove downward.
The man’s hands closed around Corey’s arm. He gasped in surprise. Then he grabbed Corey’s shoulders and hoisted him to his feet. He muttered something that would get Corey grounded for a month if he ever said it.
Chattering wildly, the baby monkey ran past them and disappeared into the night.
“Who the hell are you?” the man hissed. Before Corey could reply, he added, “You just made me lose $20,000.”
Corey had never heard anyone sound so angry. So full of hate.
“I didn’t do anything,” Corey protested. “The monkey got away all by itself. We have to find it! What if it climbs over the fence?” Corey thought of the heavy traffic on Aurora Avenue or North 50th Street. He shuddered.
“Damn thing bit me.” The man shook one hand several times and then put his mouth briefly on his wrist. He spat.
Corey stepped backward but the man quickly gripped him again. His fingers dug into Corey’s arms as he leaned closer, staring at Corey. “Maybe,” he said slowly, “there’s more than one way to collect a ransom.”
Corey twisted, trying to wriggle loose. The strap on his camera broke and the camera fell to the ground. “You’re hurting me,” he said.
“You think that hurts? You don’t know what it is to get hurt.”
Corey remembered the knife.
He didn’t say anything else.
8
ELLEN was lost. She didn’t understand how it could have happened, but she didn’t know where she was or which way to go to find the monkey house. How could she be so turned around in a place she had visited so many times?
She should have taken a map. Maybe the maps show where telephones are located. But she hadn’t known she’d be alone, searching for Corey. And she hadn’t known how scary the zoo would seem at night.
The moon disappeared behind some clouds; it was even darker now than it had been earlier. The path seemed endless and she had no idea whether she was still on the shortcut or whether she had somehow followed another path by mistake. When she waved her light around, nothing looked familiar.
She saw another food stand and moved cautiously toward it. When she was next to it, she stopped and listened in case the thief was inside. She heard nothing.
This, she decided, was the most horrible night of her life. She had looked forward to it so much and now everything had gone wrong. If only she had waited at home until Mom and Dad got there, instead of rushing away in a cab.
“You can’t solve a problem by saying, if only.” That’s what Mom always said. Ellen trudged onward.
The beam from her flashlight hit fencing. Ellen stopped and raised the light higher; the fencing continued. She recognized the Aviary. That isn’t where she had thought she was, but at least she had her bearings now. The Aviary was close to the monkey house. She had just taken the long way to get there.
Relieved, she walked faster. With any luck, Corey would be in the monkey house. He was probably jumping on one of the benches, scratching his armpits, or hanging by his knees from a railing, pretending to be a monkey in a tree. She would insist that he return to the tent with her and stay there until morning. No more wandering around the zoo in the dark.
Just ahead, she heard a shrill chattering. A monkey?
Yes. There it was again, even louder this time, and she was sure it was a monkey. The monkey didn’t sound very happy. It sounded upset, as if someone were teasing it.
The closer she got to the monkey house, the more distressed the monkey sounded. It seemed to be only one monkey and it sounded like it was in pain. Was it hurt? If so, she knew Corey wasn’t responsible. Her brother was silly and made up wild stories but he was basically a good kid and he loved the monkeys. He would never hurt one of them.
Light from the monkey house shone out through the glass doors. Ellen saw it and began to run. By the time she got to the monkey house, the chattering had stopped.
The monkey house was locked. Ellen looked through the glass doors. In the first cage, she recognized one of the rare golden lion tamarins that Grandma and Grandpa had brought her to see, when a baby monkey was born. The monkey was clearly upset, rushing frantically back and forth in its cage.
When she looked closer, she could tell it was the mother monkey, Sunshine, the one Ellen had watched as it nursed her baby. What could have happened to distress her so? Was her baby sick? Ellen could not see the baby monkey. It must be in the far corner, she thought, where she couldn’t see.
Although she was certain the monkey was making noise, the soundproof glass of the cages and the thick doors of the building prevented her from hearing it. Ellen wondered how she heard the chattering earlier when she couldn’t hear it now. Were there monkeys elsewhere in the zoo?
The monkeys in the other cages moved about restlessly while Sunshine leaped hysterically from the tree to the ground and back again.
Ellen heard the chattering again, fainter now. It came from behind the building. From outside. Maybe it was Corey, pretending to be a monkey. She hurried in that direction, flashing her light around. “Corey?” she called. “Are you here?”
“Chit-chit-chit-chit.” The excited chattering retreated.
Ellen waved her light back and forth across the back of the building. A door marked “Employees Only” stood slightly ajar. The wood around the lock was splintered; someone had broken in.
Oh, Corey, she thought. Surely you wouldn’t have done this. You said you wanted to sleep with the monkeys but you wouldn’t do a stupid thing like this. Would you?
Of course not. She answered her own question. Corey was no hoodlum. He didn’t go around vandalizing public property and he definitely would not do anything to scare the monkeys. Grandma and Grandpa had taught them that animals have feelings, much like people have. Grandma even carried a list in her purse, of companies that don’t test their products on animals. She wouldn’t buy soap or shampoo or perfume unless the manufacturer was on her list. Grandma said she didn’t want some poor rabbit blinded just so she could smell good.
Ellen continued around the outside of the building, aiming the light toward the ground. Something crunched under her shoe. Looking down, she saw peanuts spilled on the path. Then she noticed red drops on the path near the peanuts. She leaned down to look more closely.
Blood. There were drops of blood on the path behind the monkey house.
Ellen’s breath came faster. Had someone hurt the baby monkey? Is that why the mother was so upset?
The man she had seen carried a knife. After he broke into the food stand, he must have broken into the monkey house, too. But why? Who was he? Not an employee of the zoo. She was convinced of that.
But if the man they had seen did not work at the zoo, how did he get in? Where was the security guard? Had they just missed him, or had something happened to him? The questions bounced in her brain like the bumper cars at the county fair.
She stared down at the path. Corey had brought peanuts with him. Were these some of his? How did they get spilled?
Don’t jump to conclusions, she told herself. Anyone could have spilled peanuts on the ground. She swung the flashlight in a wider circle, and froze. There, lying on the path a few feet in front of her, was a camera. She picked it up and turned it over. Her hand began to shake.
Mom had taped the small identification tag on the camera before Corey went to camp last July. Corey Streater, it said, and gave the telephone number. Corey treasured his camera. He would never be careless with it.
Ellen aimed the light at the path again and found Corey’s flashlight.
Something terrible had happened to her brother. She knew it. He would never leave his flashlight and his camera like this.
Why was blood on the ground? Was it monkey blood—or human?
Where was Corey?
I have to find him, Ellen thought. First, I’ll go back to the tent. He’s
had plenty of time to explore the zoo and if nothing has happened to him he might be back at the tent by now. If he’s there, we’ll stay inside the tent until morning if I have to sit on him the rest of the night.
If he isn’t there . . .
She didn’t want to think about what she would do if he wasn’t there.
She headed back toward the tent. Please be there, Corey, she thought. Please, please be there.
She never made it back to the tent.
9
AS ELLEN passed the Nocturnal House, she heard voices inside.
Her first instinct was to rush in, to see who it was, but she forced herself not to. Instead, she eased cautiously toward the door that leads to the viewing walkway. She pushed it only until she could hear clearly through the crack. It was light inside, to make it seem like daytime for those animals.
“What’s a kid like you doing here alone in the middle of the night?” The man’s voice was angry. “What’d you do, run away from home?”
“I’m on a camp-out,” Corey said.
“Sure, you are. And I’m the Boy Scout leader.”
“My grandparents bought the camp-out at a charity auction.”
“Your grandparents are here, too?” The man sounded alarmed.
“Yes,” Corey said, without hesitation. He was so convincing that for a moment Ellen wondered if Grandpa and Grandma had come to the zoo while she was off looking for Corey. “My sister’s here, too,” Corey continued, “and both my brothers and my mother and father, and all of my aunts and uncles and cousins. Even some of our neighbors.”
“You’re lying,” the man said. “If all those people were camping out at the zoo, I would have heard them.”
“You’ll hear them soon,” Corey said, “because they’ll be looking for me.”
There was a brief silence. Then the man muttered, “Well, they won’t find you. You and I are going on a little camp-out of our own and we’re going to stay there until all those relatives of yours cough up twenty grand.”
“You mean you’re going to hold me for ransom?” Corey’s voice was higher than usual and the question ended with a little squeak.
“Smart kid. Now shut up and let me think.”
“But my parents don’t have any money,” Corey said. “My father is crippled and blind and my mother has AIDS from a blood transfusion that she got. Neither of them can work. There’s no way they can pay you a ransom.”
Ellen’s jaw dropped. She had heard Corey tell some crazy stories before but this one topped them all.
“People who go to charity auctions have money. Now shut up!”
Silence.
Ellen eased the door closed and stood outside in the darkness. Her throat felt tight. She wanted to burst into tears and run back to the tent and hide, but she knew she couldn’t do that. Somehow, she had to help Corey. She had to get him away from the man.
I’ll climb the fence, she decided. I take gymnastics lessons; I’m strong. I’ll go back to the south gate, climb the fence, and call the police.
She hurried along the path, walking as quickly as she could in the dark. When she was past the house where the great apes live, she turned on her flashlight again and began to run. Past the Family Farm, past the open-air theater, past the food stand. By the time she reached the south gate, she was out of breath. She stood for a moment, panting, and looking up. There were brick walls on both sides of the entrance. Wooden lattice, covered with vines, made a canopy overhead for several feet in front of the walls. There was no way she could get through that.
She went toward the exit turnstile until the brick wall ended and a chain link fence began. She would have to climb the chain link fence.
You can do it, she told herself. You MUST do it. It’s the only way to save Corey.
She stretched up and grasped the fence above her head. Wedging the toe of her right shoe into the fence, she pulled herself up. She tried to get her left foot positioned, too, but when she put her weight on her right foot, it slipped out of the wire fencing. The holes in the fence were not big enough to allow her to get a solid foothold.
She dropped back to the ground. Quickly, she tried again. This time, she managed to lift herself onto her right foot but was unable to put her left foot in the fence. She clung to the fence, leaning into it, unwilling to jump down and start over but unable to continue. She held on tightly with her right hand, leaned over, and untied her left shoe. She kicked her heel against the fence until the shoe came off and fell to the ground. Now she could curl her toes around the fencing. Through her sock, she could feel the wire and grip it.
She removed her other shoe the same way and then, feeling like one of the monkeys, she began to climb. One hand up, one foot up. Next hand. Next foot. Although she knew she must hurry, she climbed cautiously. Even without her shoes, it was difficult to get a solid grip. Twice, one foot slipped out of the wire but she was able to hold on with the other until she could regain her balance.
Reaching above her head, she felt the top of the fence. She was almost there. Going down wouldn’t be so hard. She could let her feet slide down the other side of the fence and just hang on with her hands. All she had to do was make it over the top.
She grasped the top tightly with both hands and pulled herself up. She swung her left leg up and crooked her knee over the top. Her leg hit barbed wire.
She reached out, feeling gingerly with her hand. From the top of the fence, three strands of barbed wire angled out toward the parking lot. The cuff of her jeans was caught on the first strand. She tugged. It held fast.
There was no way she would be able to climb over barbed wire. She tried to kick her left leg free. Her fingers ached, from hanging on to the fence. She kicked again. And again. A piece of barbed wire pierced her sock and cut her ankle.
She gave another furious kick. She heard the sound of her jeans tearing and tried to stop in midkick but it was too late. As the material gave way, she lost her balance and fell.
She clutched frantically at the wire as she fell, trying to grab on and stop herself. Her fingers slid too fast; her hands bumped helplessly down the fence and she thudded to the ground.
As she started to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her left shoulder. She lay back down and waited for the pain to subside.
Tears stung her eyes as she lay huddled at the bottom of the fence. She wasn’t going to make it over the top.
Gently, she poked her shoulder and winced at the touch of her fingers. A broken collarbone? Bad bruise? She wasn’t sure what was wrong but she knew it hurt. Her scratched ankle hurt, too. She would probably have to get a tetanus shot tomorrow, on top of everything else. Then she felt guilty for feeling sorry for herself when Corey was being held hostage.
She did not try to scale the fence again. It wouldn’t do Corey any good if she fell off the fence and killed herself. She would have to get help some other way.
She found her shoes and put them back on. Then, holding her left arm close to her side and trying not to move it, she started back along the path toward the Nocturnal House.
How long had she been gone? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Were the man and Corey still in the Nocturnal House? She didn’t turn on her flashlight, for fear the man was nearby and would see her.
As she walked, she tried to think. Where was the security guard? Had something happened to him? Or was he somewhere on the zoo grounds, able to help her and Corey if he knew they needed it? How could she reach him?
There had to be other telephones somewhere. Where? She couldn’t stumble around the zoo in the dark all night, hunting for a telephone. Corey needed help fast.
When she got back to the Nocturnal House, she eased open the door again and listened. Silence. Ellen’s throat felt tight. They had left. The man had taken Corey somewhere and now she would never find him again.
Just as she let go of the door, she heard a slight sniffling noise. She recognized it immediately as the sound Corey always made when his allergies acted up or when he had been cryin
g. She could almost hear her mother saying, “Corey, stop that sniffling. If your nose is running, get a tissue.”
They were still inside. Maybe the man was hiding, unsure how many people were looking for Corey.
She tiptoed a few feet away from the Nocturnal House, where she wouldn’t be seen if the man decided to leave. Quickly, she figured out a plan.
She would yell out, as if she were calling to other people, that she had found Corey. She would make it sound like a whole group was on their way to the Nocturnal House.
Had the man believed Corey when he said there were other people on the camp-out? Probably. After all, it was unlikely that Corey would be here alone.
The man probably thought there were others here. If he did, her plan might work. The man might run away rather than taking a chance that he would be surrounded by a mob of angry relatives. And then she and Corey would run, too, and hide somewhere until morning, or until help arrived.
Even if the man didn’t run, the security guard might hear her yell and come. He was probably looking for them anyway. It must be after midnight. If the guard checked the tent and found it empty, he would be alarmed. He would try to find them.
By now, maybe Mom and Dad were home and had called the police or the president of the zoo or someone. Even if Mom and Dad weren’t home yet, Grandpa and Grandma would be back by now and would find the note. Help might be on the way already.
Maybe I shouldn’t yell quite yet, Ellen thought. Maybe I should wait awhile. Stay right where I am and wait for someone to come. Except the security guard might NOT be looking for them. Mom and Dad might NOT be home. Help might NOT be on the way.
She took a deep breath, planted her feet firmly on the path outside the Nocturnal House and yelled as loudly as she could, “This way, everybody. I think I’ve found him.” She waited a few seconds and when nothing happened, she yelled again. “He’s over here. In the Nocturnal House. Come on, everyone! This way!”
The door of the Nocturnal House burst open. With the light behind them, the silhouettes of the tall man and the small boy were plainly visible.