“See you at the reserve,” Zoe said, wheeling her bike down the drive. She hesitated at the bottom, looked back at him like she wanted to say something, then took off.
That summer, whenever Logan’s dad wasn’t working on a weekend, he’d taken Logan to his favorite wildlife preserve: Teddy Roosevelt Park, right on the outskirts of Xanadu. There were hiking trails and fishing ponds, but most importantly, at least for what Logan wanted, there was an open grassy picnic area with tables and grills.
He got there a few moments before Zoe and picked a grill not far from the trees. “We’re supposed to have a permit to use this,” Logan said as she came up. He winced, realizing how “department of wildlife” that sounded.
“It’s nearly November,” Zoe pointed out. “I’m sure no one really cares. I’ll text my parents to meet us here.”
Logan pulled a small bag of charcoal out of his backpack and tipped it into the grill. He was about to light a match when a family came out of the woods nearby, and he had to quickly hide the matchbook in his hand.
Besides the parents, there were three guys and two little girls. He recognized one of the guys from school—Marco Jimenez, soccer captain and class clown, and one of the only other different-looking faces in the seventh grade. Marco squinted at Zoe and Logan across the field while his family climbed into their minivan. It occurred to Logan that this might look really weird, hanging around a grill with Zoe, alone, at this time of year. He smiled and waved, hoping that was the normal-person thing to do.
To his surprise, Marco waved back. A few minutes later, they were gone, and Logan lit the grill.
“Everyone’s coming,” Zoe said, pocketing her phone. He wasn’t sure she’d even noticed Marco.
“Hopefully the red griffin will, too, once he smells this,” Logan said.
Logan put the first uncooked hamburger patty on the grill, and they sat down at the picnic table to eat their sandwiches. Zoe kept glancing at him with that same look, like she wanted to say something, but whenever he met her eyes, she’d turn away again.
“You know what?” he said finally. “You should hide. He doesn’t know who I am, but if the griffin sees you, he might know it’s a trap.” Also, it would be great to not sit here in awkward silence.
Zoe ran her hands through her hair and nodded. “Okay. Good idea.” She threw her leftovers in the trash and ran her bike over to the restrooms shack next to the parking lot.
The first hamburger turned into a charred lump, and Logan threw it out, putting another one on in its place. He added a piece of cheese in case that helped.
Nothing happened for what seemed like a long time. Logan ate a few carrot sticks and checked his watch. Maybe this wasn’t going to work after all.
Just then he felt a prickling sensation along his spine. He knew what that feeling meant.
Someone was watching him.
TWENTY-SIX
Logan leaned on the table casually, searching the trees out of the corner of his eye. It took him a moment to spot it: a few yards away, hidden in the red and orange leaves of a tall oak tree, a pair of sharp black eyes was peering at the smoking grill.
Whistling, Logan added a few more hamburgers to the grill. He’d forgotten to bring a plate, so he slid the cooked cheeseburger onto his paper sandwich bag.
“Mmmm,” he said loudly. “I’ll just let this cool off for a minute.” He set the cheeseburger on the end of the table closest to the woods, then bent down to get a water bottle out of his bag.
When he sat up again, the cheeseburger was gone.
Okay, THAT was fast, Logan thought. He’d expected to catch the griffin midtheft, but the cub must have flashed in and out of the trees at warp speed.
“Huh,” he said out loud. “Did I eat that and forget about it? Weird!” The new hamburgers weren’t cooked through yet, but he was sure the griffin cub wouldn’t care. He put another one out on the bag and glanced in the direction Zoe had vanished. What were they supposed to do now?
“SQUOOORP.”
Logan jumped. That sounded closer than the trees. He looked around slowly, then crouched.
The griffin cub was hiding under a picnic table a few feet away.
His feathers and fur were a warm, rusty red tinged with orange around the wingtips. He looked uncomfortably squished under the table, and Logan could tell he was quite a bit bigger than Squorp and Clonk—not as tall as Clink, but much rounder. This griffin definitely would not have fit in a backpack. Crumbs and bits of food were stuck to his chest feathers and big lion paws.
He stared at Logan solemnly.
“Oh, hey,” Logan said. “Do you like hamburgers? I have a couple more.”
The griffin gave him a wide-eyed, plaintive look, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“With cheese?” Logan offered.
Cheeeeese, the griffin agreed, clacking his beak. Logan beckoned, holding out the burger, and the griffin cub wriggled squashily out from under the table. He edged closer to Logan, eyeing the cheeseburger, but stopped warily out of reach.
“Do you have a name yet?” Logan asked. He sat down on the grass and opened one of the cheese slices for himself.
The griffin shook his head.
“Maybe we should call you . . .” Logan thought about the griffin’s brothers and sisters. Clink, Clonk, Squorp, Flurp. “Hmm. How about Yump?”
Yump, the griffin thought. Yump. Yump hungry. Yump like food. Yump want meat. Yump Yump Yump. Does sound like me. He flicked his tail across the grass and gave Logan an eagle smile. Better than Roly-Poly. YUMP.
“Great,” Logan said. Poor Zoe and her hopelessly wrong names for the cubs. “Have a cheeseburger, Yump.”
The griffin cub stretched his neck forward and snatched the burger out of Logan’s hands. He backed up a few steps and gobbled it down.
“So, Yump,” Logan said. “Do you miss your family?”
Yump made a sound like a snort. Not one bit. He stretched his wings expressively. No sharing out here! Best world ever!
“Okay,” Logan said. So that strategy wasn’t going to work. “What’s your favorite thing you’ve eaten today?”
Cheeseburgers, Yump thought at once. No, pizza. No, frozen dumplings. No, Twinkies. Wait! Yummy cans of cat. No . . . cheeseburgers.
“Please don’t tell me you thought you were actually eating cat,” Logan said.
Yump tilted his head at him. Pictures of cats on cans!
“Terrible, Yump,” Logan said. “That was food FOR cats. You shouldn’t eat cats anyway. You’re, like, distantly related.” Purrsimmon had enough problems without having to dodge hungry griffin cubs when she went out at night.
Hmmm, the griffin said, sidling closer. More cheeseburgers?
Logan got up and slid the last burgers off the grill. He set them down on the table next to him and held out his hand. Yump delicately placed his front paw in Logan’s palm and allowed Logan to help him waddle up onto the table.
“You know,” Logan said, “I heard the Menagerie was thinking of making every Friday Cheeseburger Night.”
The griffin’s head shot up, and he stared at Logan suspiciously. You from Menagerie?
“Have some more cheese,” Logan said, peeling the wrappers off the cheese slices. Yump snapped them up and went back to the hamburgers. “Yump, listen, I know you’ve had a great day, but if you keep eating like this, you’ll never be able to fly. The Menagerie knows how much you need to eat and how to take care of you. It’s dangerous out here.”
Bah, Yump muttered. Yump just fine. Yump great at finding food. Yump take care of himself! Yump NEVER BE HUNGRY AGAIN!
Something zipped through the air right over the griffin’s head and clonked into the picnic table.
Logan and Yump both stared at it. It took Logan a minute to realize it was a tranquilizer dart.
Unfortunately, Yump realized it first.
BETRAYED! he howled. Delicious cheeseburger TREACHERY! He threw himself off the picnic table with a thump as Logan leaped to his feet.<
br />
Zoe’s parents came running out of the woods in one direction; Matthew and Blue appeared from the other. Except for Blue, they were all carrying tranq guns.
RUDE! Yump shrieked, galloping in a wide, zigzagging circle. Despite his girth, he was astonishingly fast. He zipped by Blue, who threw himself at the cub and ended up face-first in the grass. Zoe’s dad shot at the griffin again, but Yump dodged out of the way. He barreled toward Zoe’s parents, trying to get around them into the woods.
Zoe’s mom hit a button on her wristband, and a huge net flew out into the air. For a moment Logan was sure it would catch Yump—but then the griffin ducked and rolled right under it. He bounced to his paws again in front of Zoe’s dad and veered off toward the parking lot.
Logan chased after him. “Yump!” he shouted. “Wait! We can get you burgers! Whatever you want!”
Nooooo! Yump howled, knocking over a grill with his wings. Yump HATE sharing! All food mine all mine food!
Zoe sprinted out of the restrooms shack and darted in front of the griffin cub at the parking lot. Yump skidded to a stop.
“It’s me,” Zoe called to him. “Remember? I gave you jellybeans before anyone else did!”
Also gave it to brothers and sisters! Not nearly enough jellybeans for Yump!
Yump swung around toward the woods again, pumping his wings as he ran as if he was trying to fly. His tail lashed out and knocked over a trash can. He was leaving big lion paw prints in the dirt. Logan was sure his dad would be out here frowning in confusion at those tomorrow.
Logan ran back to the picnic table and pulled out the bottle of chocolate sauce. “Yump!” he yelled. “Look! Chocolate sauce! You can have the whole bottle if you come back quietly!”
Yump can have all the chocolate he wants out here! the cub bellowed, swerving around Zoe’s mom and tearing toward the trees. Yump FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—
A tranquilizer dart thudded into his thigh. Yump tumbled into a somersault and collapsed in a heap on the ground two strides from the woods.
“Nice shot,” Zoe’s dad called to Matthew. Matthew lifted his tranq gun and bowed like a conductor of an orchestra.
Logan ran over to the griffin cub and knelt beside him. The griffin’s eyes were closed, and his roly-poly paws were flopped out on either side.
“I’m sorry, Yump,” Logan said, resting one hand on the cub’s head. “I didn’t mean to betray you. But this is for your own good, I promise.”
Zoe’s dad drove the van up to the parking lot, and together they all heaved the griffin into the reconstructed cage in the back. Logan tucked the chocolate syrup bottle between Yump’s front paws even though Matthew and Blue laughed at him.
“The last thing that griffin needs is more food,” Matthew pointed out.
“He’ll be grumpy enough when he wakes up back at home,” Logan said. “At least now he’ll have something of his own.”
“For about a nanosecond,” Blue said. “Until he eats it all.”
“We’ll meet you back at the house,” said Zoe’s dad, closing the van doors. “Zoe, quit giving me that look.” Zoe dropped her eyes and shoved her hands into her pockets.
So they’re fighting about something, Logan thought. Is it me?
And if it was . . . was Zoe on his side or not?
TWENTY-SEVEN
It took five of them to drag Yump’s cage from the garage to the griffin enclosure.
“Yump?” Zoe said to Logan. “Seriously? That’s the first name that popped into your head?”
“It just seemed right for him,” Logan said. “Sorry it’s not as cute as Roly-Poly.”
Matthew laughed, and Zoe glared at them both.
DARLING SON! Riff bellowed, galloping to the gate as they came in. Oh, NO! What is wrong with him? What terrible fate has befallen him in the perilous world?
“Well, for starters, he ate all the food in Xanadu,” Zoe said.
“And then we sedated him to get him here,” Matthew added. “He’ll wake up fine tomorrow.” He opened the cage door, and Blue helped him lift the griffin onto the ground. Riff hovered over them, flapping his wings so leaves swirled everywhere.
I will stand guard until he awakens, he pledged firmly. He sat down and fixed his gaze on the red griffin cub.
“Just to warn you, he might be a little upset to be here,” Logan said. “And his name is Yump. Squorp, don’t you dare steal that chocolate syrup from him.” The golden griffin cub jumped back from his sleeping brother with an innocent air.
ME? Would Squorp do that? He narrowed his eyes at Logan. Hmm. Treasure for Clink. The griffin swung his head around to where his bigger sister was crouched outside the cave, the golden bracelet carefully positioned between her paws. Pirate booty for Clonk. Chocolate for Yump. ZERO BUPKES SQUAT for Squorp!
“I’m working on that,” Logan promised. “This is what I have for now.” He crouched to slip Squorp the rest of the hamburger meat.
Cow! Cow! Cow! Squorp did a happy, prancing dance around Logan and nosed his hand gratefully.
Oh, Nira said, emerging from the cave. Flurp and Clonk were riding on her back, clutching her snowy white wings and fur. Nira eyed Yump’s sleeping form. Hooray. More of my children are back.
Squorp! Flurp cried. New game! Let’s play Mom’s a tree and first one to climb to the top of her head wins!
No! cried Clonk. Let’s play Mom’s tail is a snake and first one to pounce on it and kill it wins!
Better idea! said Squorp. Let’s play Mom chases us around the boulders and the last one she catches wins and also Mom’s tail is a snake so we all attack it as we run by and also if she stops running we all jump on her and practice flying off her head and also we are aliens.
Yaaaayyyy! cried Flurp and Clonk.
Nira slowly, expressively, closed her eyes.
“One to go,” Zoe’s dad said, patting her side. “Don’t worry, Nira. We’ll find her soon.”
Wonderful, Nira said. I can’t wait. With only five cubs I’ll have far too much free time.
Logan glanced back sympathetically as Mr. Kahn shut the gate. Riff was still on guard beside sleeping Yump while the other four griffin cubs dragged Nira off to chase them.
“One last cub,” said Mrs. Kahn. “Any ideas, kids?”
Logan and Zoe and Blue exchanged glances. They hadn’t yet mentioned the phone conversation they’d overheard in the school library. Logan wondered if Zoe would have to tell her parents about it now. Or maybe she already had, and that’s what she and her dad were arguing about.
A piercing shriek echoed across the lake, followed by the sound of something slamming into wood. They all whirled around.
“The unicorns,” Matthew said, bolting for the stable.
Logan and the others pelted after him. Maybe it’s the griffin cub, Logan thought hopefully. Maybe she snuck back in and is hiding in there—
It wasn’t the griffin cub.
It was Keiko.
The sixth grader was standing between the stalls cursing (Logan guessed) in Japanese and hurling apples at Cleopatra. One of her braids had come undone, and there were streaks of dirt along the sides of her face.
“Keiko, stop!” Mrs. Kahn cried. She jumped forward and grabbed Keiko’s arm. “What are you doing?”
“Look what she did to me!” Keiko shouted, wrenching herself free. She pointed to an enormous rip along the sleeve of her jade-colored shirt and a corresponding tiny scratch on her arm. “This shirt cost seventy-five dollars! You do not know who you are messing with, horse!”
Seventy-five dollars?! Logan couldn’t believe he’d heard her right.
“On the contrary,” Cleopatra sneered, “I can smell you from a mile away, and you don’t scare me at all.”
“We’ll see if that’s true when I sneak in here one night and eat you,” Keiko growled.
“You’d have to catch me first.” Cleopatra tossed her head.
“What were you doing in here in the first place?” Zoe asked Keiko.
Keiko sw
elled indignantly. “I was doing your chores,” she spat. “I was trying to brush these stupid albino donkeys.” She pointed to the currycomb, abandoned on the floor by Cleopatra’s hooves.
“I can’t imagine where you went wrong,” Charlemagne remarked drily from the other stall. “That’s just the attitude royalty always looks for in its servants.”
“I am not your servant,” Keiko hissed. She flung another apple at the back wall. “And I am never doing this again.” She stormed out of the stable.
“Well, then, mission accomplished,” Charlemagne said smugly.
Cleopatra surveyed the rest of the group. As her cold gaze landed on Logan, he hurriedly bowed, and she paused to give him an approving nod.
“That one may stay and groom me,” she said. “Everyone else is excused.”
Zoe raised her eyebrows at Logan. “Do you know anything about grooming unicorns?” she asked.
“My crazy uncle once gave me a My Little Pony doll,” Logan said. “That’s about as close as I’ve gotten. Cleopatra, could Zoe please stay to advise me? I wouldn’t want to do anything wrong.”
Cleopatra sniffed. “Well,” she said. “I suppose. This once. As long as she doesn’t speak to me.”
“I think I can manage that,” Zoe muttered.
“I’ll go see if Mooncrusher finished the repairs to the outer wall,” Mr. Kahn said, patting Zoe’s head. “Thanks for stepping in, Logan.”
Zoe ducked away from his hand and gave him a sharp frown, but he left without responding to her look. Matthew and Mrs. Kahn followed, but Logan was glad to see Blue hop onto a hay bale to keep them company.
“Mom and Dad spent the whole day fighting,” Blue said, yawning. “She says this is all his fault because of the hole in the river grate. He says it wasn’t there during their rounds on Thursday or one of the mermaids would have seen it. She says the mermaids would rather comb their hair than do what they’re supposed to around here. He says the griffins must have cut the grate open themselves.”
“Squorp said they didn’t,” Logan said.
“He must be wrong. How else would it have gotten that way?” Blue said with a shrug.
The Menagerie Page 14