by Peg Kehret
Her taut muscles relaxed slightly.
She heard the sound of the man moving away from her.
“HA!” he shouted. “I got you, you little bugger!”
Ellen gasped. She scrambled to her feet and whirled in the direction of the man’s voice. Her legs, numb from her cramped position, threatened to buckle. She reached for a tree trunk to steady herself.
She heard Corey’s scared voice. “Let go of me.”
Tears of frustration stung Ellen’s eyes. Corey wasn’t safe by the lion’s moat. He was back in the clutches of the man with the knife. What had gone wrong? Did Corey get mixed up in the dark and run the wrong way?
“Chit-chit-chit-chit-chit.”
There it was again. The same sound she had heard earlier.
“Stop it!” Corey cried. “You’re scaring him.”
Him? Who was with Corey?
“Be quiet and do what I say.”
“Chit-chit-chit-chit.”
“You made him run away!” Corey said.
“Call your sister,” the man commanded.
Ellen didn’t move. She held her breath.
“Ellen?” Corey sounded panicky now.
“Call her again. Louder.”
“Ellen!” He was crying now; she could tell by the way his voice quavered.
Ellen was quiet. If she let the man know where she was, she and Corey would both be hostages again. That wouldn’t help Corey. If the man didn’t find her, maybe she could still sneak away and get help.
“She can’t hear me,” Corey sobbed.
“How do you know? Do you know where she went?”
Ellen heard Corey gulp, the way he always did when he was trying not to cry. “She was going to hide by the lions.”
What’s he doing? Ellen wondered. Why does he want the man to go back to the lions? Corey must think he can still get away and hide by the moat. Why else would he say that?
Silently, she pleaded with her brother. Don’t do anything foolish, Corey. Don’t try to escape again. It isn’t worth the risk. Just do what the man tells you to do and I’ll get help.
Somehow.
Ellen’s head throbbed. She wished she could take a couple of aspirin. She knew there were probably some aspirin in the first-aid kit that Mrs. Caruthers had left in the tent but the tent was on the other side of the zoo. It might as well be on Mars, for all the good it did her.
She heard movement. Neither the man nor Corey said anything more but Ellen could hear the sounds as they moved farther away from the hippo pool. If she followed, would the man hear her? She couldn’t go the other direction; the hippo pool was there.
She waited until she couldn’t hear them anymore. Then, moving as cautiously and quietly as she could, she made her way toward the railing and returned to the path.
She tried to think if there were any parts of the zoo she had not been that night, places where there might be a telephone. Did the security guard have an office somewhere or did he just walk around all night? Where WAS he? If she couldn’t get out of the zoo, she had to do something to bring help here. But what?
There were plenty of dry leaves on the ground; she could rub sticks together to get a spark. A fire would bring help.
The animals were fenced in. What if the fire blazed out of control? She couldn’t start a fire at the zoo, not even to help Corey.
An airplane buzzed high overhead. Ellen pointed her light straight up in the air and turned it on. Then she put her hand over the end and blocked out the light for a second. She rapidly put her hand on and off the light so that if anyone was looking down from the sky, they would see the light flashing on and off.
Dot, dot, dot; dash, dash, dash; dot, dot, dot. She tried to flash an SOS signal, using the Morse code. She hoped she was remembering the code correctly. She had learned a few signals as a science project last year but she hadn’t used the code since she finished the project. Still, the three dots, three dashes, three dots, stuck in her mind and she flashed it several times, until she could no longer hear the airplane.
She knew the chances were slim that anyone in an airplane would see her small light. She had flown once, when her family went to Disney World. She remembered sitting next to Dad, looking out the window of the plane at the tiny houses down below. They had seemed like toys rather than real buildings.
Before they landed in Florida, Dad had pointed out small patches of blue, no bigger than postage stamps, and told her that those were swimming pools. They had laughed together when Dad said he hoped the pool at their motel was bigger than that.
Dad, she thought, why haven’t you come? What happened to you? She knew something was terribly wrong, or her parents would be here by now. And Grandma and Grandpa, too. If they had got home, they would have checked the telephone machine; they would have seen her note. And they would immediately have arranged to get in the zoo. But none of it had happened. Why not?
She tried to think what to do.
I’ll have to scream, she decided. I’ll go to the gate and I’ll scream for help as loudly as I can.
Probably the man with the knife would hear her but maybe someone else would hear her, too. Someone who could help. She knew it was a risk but she decided it was a chance she had to take. She had to do something and, since she couldn’t get out of the zoo, yelling seemed to be the best way to bring help in.
With the decision made, she felt better. She paused a moment, trying to think where her chances of being heard would be the greatest. It would have to be where there wasn’t a parking lot between the fence and street. Otherwise, no one would hear her, no matter how loudly she yelled.
Maybe, she thought, I should go through the Elephant Forest. She was close to that and she knew the back side of the Elephant Forest adjoined Aurora Avenue North, which was one of the main streets in Seattle. She didn’t know exactly how close the street was to the back of the zoo, but she had heard cars going past when they were bathing Hugo.
She wasn’t afraid to go into the Elephant Forest. She was fond of the giant beasts.
She moved cautiously, trying not to make any noise.
Although her shoulder didn’t hurt much anymore, she was glad there was a way into the Elephant Forest that did not require climbing.
She slid down the gully into the clearing at the edge of the Elephant Forest. Except for getting the seat of her jeans dirty, it was an easy slide. At the bottom, she found wooden poles with cables between them—impossible for an elephant to get past, but no problem for a girl. She slipped between two cables. She didn’t see or hear any elephants. She hoped it wouldn’t frighten them for her to yell for help from their territory. She hurried across the clearing and entered the brush and trees of the Elephant Forest. Ahead, on the far side, she heard an occasional car.
Yes, this was the right place to call for help. It was as close to people as she could get.
It seemed to take forever to make her way through the undergrowth and, as she made her way around shrubs and trees, she knew it would be easy to go the wrong way. She kept listening for the sound of traffic ahead, and went toward it.
Ellen reached the back fence, and gripped it with both hands. She glanced once behind her, listening carefully, but heard nothing. She had no idea where the man and Corey were now.
“HELP!” Ellen yelled. “I’m trapped in the zoo. Someone help me. Please! HELP!!”
Through the trees, she saw the headlights of a car. She pointed her flashlight toward the car, and waved it back and forth. “HELP!” she shouted, so loudly that it made her throat hurt. She kept calling, over and over, for what seemed like five or ten minutes. “Help. Help!”
And then she heard something, or someone, moving toward her from behind. Had she frightened an elephant? Was one of the beasts stomping toward the sound of her voice?
“HELP,” she yelled again.
“HELP,” echoed another voice, directly behind her.
Corey.
“Shut up!” commanded the man.
B
efore Ellen could run away from the voices, the man’s hand grabbed her arm.
He had heard her cries.
He had found her.
12
THE AIRPORT shuttle bus stopped at the Streaters’ house. Mr. Streater paid the driver.
“Home never looked better,” Mrs. Streater said, as she unlocked the front door. “Hello, Prince. Did you miss us?”
“I am exhausted,” Mr. Streater said.
They carried their luggage to their bedroom.
Mrs. Streater peered into Ellen’s bedroom and then into Corey’s. “All the sleeping bags are gone,” she said. She turned on the lights in the room she used as an office. It contained a hide-a-bed, and when they had company it doubled as a guest bedroom. It was where Ellen and Corey’s grandparents slept when they stayed overnight.
“Nobody’s home,” Mrs. Streater said.
“Did you think they would be? I knew your folks would take the kids to the zoo, when we didn’t get here on time.”
“I knew Father would go on the camp-out but I didn’t think Mother would actually sleep in a tent with a cast on her leg.”
“Your mother has always been a good sport. And she does love the zoo.”
“She probably couldn’t stand to stay behind and miss out on the fun,” Mrs. Streater said.
“Maybe it’s just as well our plane had engine trouble and we had to land in Portland. This way your parents went on the camp-out, after all.”
“They’ll have tales to tell in the morning,” Mrs. Streater said. “Especially Corey.”
“It is morning. It’s after midnight and I am going straight to bed.”
“Don’t you want to see if there are any messages?”
Mr. Streater shook his head. “We can’t return any calls at this time of night anyway. I’ll listen to the messages tomorrow.”
Mr. and Mrs. Streater got ready for bed. “I wonder if Ellen and Corey are asleep,” Mrs. Streater said.
“I doubt if Corey will close his eyes—or his mouth—all night.”
Mrs. Streater turned out the light.
Prince whined and pawed at the side of the bed.
“Go lie down, Prince,” Mr. Streater said.
Prince whined and pawed again.
“Do you suppose they were so excited about the camp-out that they forgot to feed Prince and let him out?” Mrs. Streater said.
“Anything is possible.”
Mrs. Streater sighed, turned on the light, and got up. “Come on, Prince,” she said.
“He probably just wants two dinners,” Mr. Streater grumbled.
Mrs. Streater went to the kitchen and turned on the light. She put Prince out the back door. While she waited for him to come back, she noticed the piece of paper on the telephone machine.
“Dear Mom and Dad:
We are waiting for you at the zoo.”
Quickly she read the rest of Ellen’s note. “Mike!” she called. “Mother and Father didn’t take the kids to the zoo. Ellen and Corey went by themselves. They took a cab.”
Mr. Streater came to the kitchen and looked at the note. “Your folks must have met them there after they went to the doctor. They would never allow the kids to stay there overnight alone. Neither would the zoological society.”
Mrs. Streater dialed her parents’ home. “There’s no answer,” she said.
“Of course not. Your folks are at the zoo, having the time of their lives.”
Mrs. Streater let Prince in and fed him.
“Are you coming to bed or not?” Mr. Streater rubbed one bare foot on top of the other.
“I’m going to listen to the messages. Just in case there’s something from the kids that we need to know.”
Mr. Streater leaned against the refrigerator and yawned.
She pushed the button to play back messages and began to jot down names and telephone numbers. One message was Mrs. Streater herself, saying that she and Mr. Streater were in the Portland airport and didn’t know when they would get home. There were several “bleeps” on the machine after that, indicating that someone had called but left no message.
“All those calls were probably us, too,” Mr. Streater said.
The next message on the machine was from Mrs. Streater’s father. He said, “Hello, it’s me. Esther and I are on our way to the hospital.”
Mr. Streater snapped to attention. Mrs. Streater reached for him and clutched his pajama sleeve while they listened to the rest of the message.
When they heard, “I’ll call you tomorrow, after you get home from the zoo,” Mr. Streater said, “I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.”
Mrs. Streater turned off the answering machine without listening to the rest of the messages. “Where are the kids?” she said. “Even Corey would know better than to stay at the zoo alone.”
“Let’s not panic. Maybe someone from the zoological society stayed with them.”
“But wouldn’t they call and tell us that?”
“Maybe they did. Let’s listen to the rest of the messages.”
They turned the machine back on and played the rest of the messages. There was nothing from Ellen, Corey, or anyone from the zoological society.
Mr. Streater said, “Let’s call Mrs. Caruthers.”
Mrs. Streater looked up her number and dialed it. After six rings, a sleepy male voice said, “Hello?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you so late at night,” Mrs. Streater said, “but I need to speak with Mrs. Caruthers. It’s urgent.”
“She isn’t here. This is her son.”
“Do you know anything about the children who were going to camp overnight at the zoo? This is their mother and we had plane trouble and didn’t get home on time. We have a note saying that the children went to the zoo.”
“That’s right; the kids are at the zoo.”
“Do you know where? If we go there now, do you know where we can find them?”
“You can’t get in now. All the gates are locked at night.”
“Are you certain that’s where the children are?”
“Positive. Ma called a little while ago and she said the kids got there a half an hour late. She was glad she didn’t have to wait any longer than that because . . .”
“Do you expect her home soon?” Mrs. Streater didn’t mean to be rude and interrupt, but she was anxious about Ellen and Corey.
“She won’t be home until morning.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Streater said. “She stayed, then?”
“She said she couldn’t leave, not when . . .”
“How kind of her!”
The voice at the other end stifled a yawn.
“Thank you so much,” Mrs. Streater said. “I’m sorry I woke you up. We’ll go to the zoo first thing in the morning to bring the kids home.”
She hung up, turned to Mr. Streater, and said, “Mrs. Caruthers stayed at the zoo. Wasn’t that nice of her?”
“She probably didn’t have any choice. Corey probably refused to leave.”
“We must do something special, to thank her. Maybe we could send flowers.”
“Well, let’s wait until daylight to order them,” Mr. Streater said, as he returned to the bedroom.
“As long as I’m up, I’m going to call the hospital,” Mrs. Streater said. “Maybe someone can tell us how Mother is.” Just as she reached for the telephone, it rang.
“This is Jeff Caruthers. You called for my mother a few minutes ago. I was kind of fuzzy minded on the phone but after you hung up, I realized exactly what you had said. Aren’t you at the zoo now?”
“No. That’s why I called you. Our plane was late and we just got home.”
“Ma said the kids came to the zoo alone and met you there a few minutes later. She said she left as soon as you arrived.”
“She isn’t with them? She didn’t stay at the zoo?”
“Ma’s at the hospital. My sister’s having a baby.”
“Then who’s with Ellen and Corey?”
“I don’t kn
ow. Ma thought you were.”
Mrs. Streater’s hand shook as she hung up the phone and called the police.
“I need help,” she said. “I think my children are alone at the Woodland Park Zoo.”
13
“STOP yelling,” the man said, as his arm tightened on Ellen’s shoulder.
She tried not to cry but the pain from his hand on her shoulder was excruciating. Blinking back tears, she glared up into his angry eyes.
“Some people heard me,” she lied. “Their car slowed down and I saw them point at me. They’ve gone for help.”
“You’re bluffing.” The man’s other hand gripped the back of Corey’s shirt. “Even if you aren’t, no one can get in here. I should have got rid of you kids as soon as I found you,” he growled. “I should have tied you up, too. Or locked you in the snake house.”
Too? thought Ellen. Who else is tied up?
“I had the baby monkey,” Corey whimpered. “I was taking it back to its mother but he grabbed me and made me lose it.” The man yanked Corey’s shirt and Corey gulped, to keep from crying.
“Stand still and be quiet,” the man said. “I need to think.”
A twig snapped. Ellen jumped. Beside her, she felt the man stiffen. Was the baby monkey following them? She peered into the darkness and she knew the man and Corey were doing the same. A large shape moved toward them from Ellen’s right and Ellen realized it was an elephant.
They are such big, strong animals, she thought. If only I had their strength. If only they could help us.
And then she thought, maybe they can. The trainer had told her that elephants have the reasoning ability of a third grader. He said some elephants understood thirty different commands. If the elephants were that smart, maybe she should try to talk to them. Maybe they would get her message.
She tried to block everything else out of her mind, the way she did when she sent her thoughts to Prince. It wasn’t easy to do when she was so frightened but her weeks of practice helped.
She concentrated only on the large, dark shape that ambled toward her through the trees. Friend elephant. Help us. We are your friends and we’re in danger. Please help us.