Zoo Poo Clues

by Hazel Edwards

  ‘This is a web of life. Now if something goes wrong, or a threat appears, the web is broken. What might happen?’

  ‘Trail bikes flatten the sand dunes?’ said India.

  ‘A tree falls?’ said Art.

  ‘Or if a butterfly flaps its wings? Or is butterflynapped?’ added Art. Overhearing, the Expert said,’ What each of us does, affects the others.’ The microphone was still in Spiky’s hand. She switched it on.

  ‘Could a rare butterfly be missing from The Butterfly House?’ asked India quickly. She looked sideways at the Cyclist who shrugged. The Expert looked concerned.

  ‘Unless you see the butterfly somewhere else, it would be difficult to tell, quickly. Staff would have to check each butterfly. But only a fool would take the butterfly from its special home in the Butterfly House.’ Art imagined how long it might take to check on all the butterflies.

  ‘Tug on the string or bob down,’ said Mrs.Tasker.’Now the tree is going to fall. Fall down Art.’ Art crashed, pulling the string with him.

  ‘AAAAAAAAA!’

  ‘Trees don’t cry,’ said Mars Bar.

  ‘They whisper,’ said India.

  ‘I’ve heard them in the bush. And they creak.’

  ‘It’s said that if a butterfly flaps its wings, that will create a wind on the other side of the world,’ said Spiky.

  ‘Is that true?’ The Expert nodded.

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Freeze for a moment,’ said Mrs.Tasker.

  ‘Suppose I am the woodcutter. Sometimes I need to chop down trees to clear the land for building. Or to get wood for houses, furniture and paper.’

  ‘Toilet paper?’ sniggered Mars Bar.

  ‘Yes, although that’s sometimes recycled. How will you feel about me?’

  ‘Just doing your job,’ said India.

  ‘Squat down if I chop you.’ Mrs.Tasker used her umbrella as an axe. She ‘chopped’ Art.’

  He squatted and then the game had to stop, Kip had arrived, closely followed by Shorty. Just behind them was the volunteer guide from the Butterfly House. He was carrying a box. Shorty was carrying a large bag

  ‘For Kip’s birthday. We didn’t want him to think we’d forgotten.’ Art knew that bag. Kip’s saggy, baggy eyes lit up.’ I love cake. Is it chocolate? That’s my favourite.’ Art sniffed. It didn’t smell like cake.

  Shorty said. ‘Er no. This zoo cake is different. We meant it as a joke. We thought you’d like the idea. It’s a model cake shape. And inside is...’

  ‘Zoo Poo,’ suggested Art. Kip looked startled.

  ‘You’re joking!’ Shorty nodded.

  ‘Kip loves the animals. And he’s looked after them well for so long. That’s why we let them all contribute. It’s taken days to get the right mixture. Especially the elephants.’ Shorty looked pleased with himself.

  ‘And we even put candles on the top.’ He opened the bag.

  ‘Looks about a hundred candles,’ said Mars Bar in a loud voice.

  ‘Thirty four,’ counted India. Then she giggled. Kip looked uncertain.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re always going on about recycling. We thought you’d like a zoo poo cake to recycle in your garden.’

  ‘How imaginative,’ said Mrs.Tasker?

  ‘A cake of dung. A dung cake.’

  ‘Yes, it is different.’ said Kip.

  ‘You went to a lot of trouble.’

  ‘Was the cake bag under the walkway earlier?’ asked Art.

  ‘Near the kiosk?’ Shorty shrugged.

  ‘Had to put it somewhere. Kip takes school kids all over the zoo. It’s hard to keep a secret from him. Took ages to collect and shape. The other staff bet I couldn’t do it.’ Kip smiled. ‘It was a bet, was it?’

  ‘But we also got you a real one as well. And here it is!’ The volunteer guide opened the box. He held out the proper birthday cake. It had wiggly writing on top.

  ‘That’s the one I saw in the locker!’ said Art.

  ‘The cream’s squashed.’

  ‘But where was it when I looked?’ India peered at the icing.

  ‘I would have known it said Happy Birthday Kip.’

  ‘In the Zoo Shop fridge,’ said the guide.

  ‘I moved it from the locker. The cream was melting.’

  ‘But where did the cake come from in the first place?’ asked Kip.

  ‘My daughter who works in the kiosk made it. She was told to leave it in my locker. I told her my locker would be open. But she put it in the wrong one,’ said the guide. Art wasn’t sure if he’d worked everything out. The ‘body’ under the walkway had been the ingredients for the zoo poo cake. The ‘real’ birthday cake had been made by the kiosk girl.

  What was the Cyclist’s link with Mr. Brand and the Butterfly House? Had a butterfly really been stolen? If so, where was it? Shorty said,

  ‘After we sing Happy Birthday to Kip’, would you like a slice of birthday cake?’

  ‘Which cake?’ said Mars Bar.? They sang. Then they blew out the candles.

  ‘I approve of the recycled birthday cake. So would the animals.’ said The Expert.

  ‘But I do not want to eat a slice, thank you’ He laughed.

  And so did Kip. ‘But my potatoes will love zoo poo cake.’

  Chapter 10

  Birthday Clues

  Hugging the dinosaur, Mars Bar went inside the Zoo Shop. He had returned the pusher and got his money back.

  ‘There’s a butterfly in here,’ Mars Bar beckoned to the others.

  ‘The rare one?’ Art hurried inside.

  ‘More than one. Look!’ Mars Bar pointed to giant butterflies hanging from the roof. Rainbow wings moved slowly each time the door opened.

  ‘Puppets,’ said India.

  ‘They’re ace!’ Mr. Brand arrived at the Zoo Shop entrance. Sun glinted on his red frames. His eyes glowed angrily when the Cyclist peered at the display. Mr. Brand tapped him on the shoulder.

  ‘Haven’t you finished MY butterfly yet?’

  ‘Not yet.’ The Cyclist looked closely at the tiny, stuffed zoo animals filling the window.

  ‘Be ready by tonight.’

  ‘Too late. He’ll be here soon. I wanted him to see the giant butterfly in place. And talk about it on the overseas radio program.’ Mr. Brand stormed off.

  ‘Now you won’t be paid at all!’ The Cyclist shrugged. Meanwhile, Mrs.Tasker had chosen a butterfly puppet.

  ‘A present for our classroom.’

  ‘That’s one of mine,’ said the Cyclist.

  ‘I made it.

  ‘I’m calling them bread’n butterflies. They help pay my rent.’

  ‘Did you copy the real, rare butterfly?” asked Art.

  ‘Yes. I’m always going into the Butterfly House to watch.’

  ‘Why did you hurry out earlier?’ asked Art.

  ‘Was there anything inside your helmet?’ The Cyclist laughed.

  ‘Dye think I’d stolen the rare butterfly? That’s a joke. Well, if I had, I wouldn’t tell you, would I? D’you think I’d hold it for a ransom?’

  Something caught Art’s eye. Open on the counter was a box.

  ‘That’s the box I delivered here,’ said Sam’s Dad. Art looked inside. Postcards!

  ‘That Butterfly House call on my mobile was for an address outside the zoo. It was a block of flats with BRANDS NAME SELLS on it.’ Sam’s Dad looked thoughtful.

  ‘BRANDS is the guy who built those COCKROACH MANSIONS that fell down soon afterwards. The ones with the Big Cockroach out the front. He’s got a bad reputation.’

  ‘Really?’ said the Cyclist.

  ‘I didn’t know about that. I just think butterflies are beautiful.’ India nodded.

  ‘What was the hurry about the delivery?’

 
‘Had to be on the Zoo Shop counter before the Butterfly Expert went in there.’ The box was filled with

  ‘Butterfly House’ postcards. The pictures were photos of Mr. Brand’s buildings, from the air! They were not the Zoo Butterfly House. FREE was scrawled on the side of the box. Just then, the Butterfly Expert walked in followed by Spiky. Art realised she wore the same glasses as Mr. Brand.

  ‘Here we are, as I promised. Just in time,’ said Spiky.

  ‘I’ll leave you in the Zoo Shop. Some interesting postcards and brochures here, my Dad says. Some are written in Spanish too. Take them home with you.’ Art heard the word

  ‘Dad.’

  ‘Is your other name Brand?’ he asked the girl with the microphone. She nodded.

  ‘Is Mr. Brand your dad?’

  ‘Yes.’ Spiky didn’t sound or look like her dad, except for the glasses. Art flipped through the post cards.

  ‘How much are these?’

  ‘Free,’ said Spiky.

  ‘So lots will take them home.’

  ‘But they’re nothing to do with the zoo,’ said Art loudly.

  The Zoo Shop already sold cards, books and gifts about animals. The money went to looking after the animals. If Mr. Brand wanted the Zoo Shop to give away postcards of his Butterfly Houses, that would stop other sales. Mr. Brand bustled up to the Expert, offering a bundle of cards.

  ‘Take these. Tell your people what beautiful Butterfly Houses are being built near the zoo.’ The Expert looked at the card closely.

  ‘What’s this to do with the zoo animals?’

  ‘Er, nothing,’ said Mr. Brand.

  ‘But we will have a giant butterfly outside soon. Just like the rare one from the zoo’s Butterfly House. Biggest butterfly in the world.’

  ‘If I ever get it finished,’ muttered the Cyclist.

  ‘Maybe I won’t do it. I don’t want my beautifully designed butterfly model outside any building that’s not well built.

  ‘The Expert was not impressed, even when Mr. Brand showed him the back of the cards. BRANDS NAME SELLS stuck out. So did the address and phone number. If you love butterflies, when visiting the zoo, why not stay at the Butterfly House overnight or for a week? Special rates for overseas visitors.

  ‘No.’ said the Expert.

  ‘I do not want this postcard. Not even the one in Spanish.I will buy postcards of the zoo animals. Then the money goes to the zoo, not to Mr. Brands’ pocket.’ But the BUTTERFLY EXPERT loved the puppets, mentioned them on his program and ordered hundreds for use in schools.

  ‘Ace,’ said the Cyclist.

  ‘My beautiful bread and butterflies.’

  Turned out that the Cyclist was not a butterfly-napper! The Cyclist was a student and part-time puppeteer. He made animal and bird puppets for sale in the Zoo Shop. Mr. Brand had offered him lots of money to make a giant butterfly to use in the foyer of his new property development. He had to get the colours and shapes exactly right. So he watched the butterflies in the Butterfly House.

  ‘Loved doing that,’ said the Cyclist.

  ‘Why did Mr. Brand go up in the balloon?’ asked India.

  ‘To check on the colour and shape of the zoo walls and copy them in his buildings. That’s why he called his flats Butterfly Houses .Mr. Brand knew that the Expert would be visiting the Zoo today.’ said the Cyclist.

  ‘Why didn’t he just use the zoo map?’ said Art.

  ‘It’s a bird’s eye view which would be as good as a hot air balloon photo. And there are pictures to show where all the animals live. The Butterfly House is easy to find.’

  They were driving back to school.

  ‘Dino looks like a passenger.’Sam’s Dad had strapped Dino into the front passenger seat. The others were seat belted in the back. They unpinned their name tags.

  ‘D’you think Dino would count as a passenger?’ India pinned her platypus name tag on Dino.’If you were driving alone with Dino, you could go in the TRANSIT lane.’ The freeway had four lanes. To go in the fast TRANSIT lane, drivers had to have passengers. SPLURT!

  ‘Sorry Mars Bar. Dino’s going down.’ More splurty noises. Mars Bar turned around.’ That’s your problem, India. His twin is your birthday present.’ Mars Bar handed India a flat package.

  ‘Looks like the one you took on the balloon flight,’ said Art.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mars Bar.

  ‘It’s a blow up dinosaur. Pink.’

  ‘Thanks Mars Bar,’ said India.

  ‘Just what I always wanted.’

  ‘Remember your horoscope, laughed Art.

  ‘You will receive good news today. Everything will be up in the air tomorrow. Keep your eyes open for an unusual sight.’ Blown up, the pink dinosaur was an unusual sight!