by Arthur Slade
“They aren’t really going to let the bears out, are they?” she asked.
“Sounds like it,” I said, running toward the North American habitat area.
“But someone could get hurt!” Robyn raced to keep up.
“Which is why we have to stop them,” I answered.
“Good idea, Trev,” Nick puffed. “We can take those guys, no problem. They look like they eat nails for breakfast. Really, they’re totally harmless.”
Robyn glared at him. “Would you stop being such a chicken?” she said. “What do you want to do, sit back and do nothing?”
“No, but we could call security, instead of risking our own necks every time something goes haywire,” Nick said.
Nick had a point. We always seemed to be getting ourselves into sticky situations.
We reached the grizzly-bear enclosure. It was built on a slope, with trees, rocks and a small pond. At the top was the feeding area. I couldn’t believe what I saw.
The guy with the shaved head had climbed over the safety fence and was fumbling with the lock on the steel gate. The skinny dude with stringy hair had climbed partway up the steel bars of the gate. He perched there, yelling, “Born free, live free” at the top of his lungs. The bear inside the enclosure swung its head from side to side, grunting. He didn’t look happy.
A zookeeper rushed up just as we did.
“Keep back, kids,” he warned us. He leaped over the safety fence and reached up, snagging the boot of the guy on the bars. “Get down from there, you idiot,” he yelled.
The skinny dude responded with a kick that sent the zookeeper flying. He crashed against the safety fence with a strangled hiccup, and then wheezed as he tried to suck air back into his lungs.
I started toward the fence. Just as I reached the zookeeper, the third guy, the one in the torn T-shirt, called down from the top of the slope.
“Dude, I think I’ve got it!” He stood near the upper gate, where the zookeepers entered to place food in the enclosure.
“No!” The zookeeper struggled to his feet.
I dashed up the side of the enclosure. Just as the T-shirt guy swung open the gate, I leaped with all my strength, tripped and landed with my full weight on both the guy and the gate. The gate clanged shut, locking automatically.
The guy looked at me with irritation. “Now I’ve got to start all over again,” he said.
I didn’t wait to hear more. I headed back toward the first gate where the skinny dude was still perched on the bars. The bear in the enclosure was up on his hind legs now, snorting. He swiped with one paw, coming close to the skinny dude’s pant leg.
“Get down!” the zookeeper yelled. “Before your backside becomes that bear’s lunch!”
The skinny dude looked frightened. “I think my boot’s stuck,” he whimpered.
The bear took another swipe, catching the edge of the guy’s jeans. They tore easily. The bear grunted deep in his chest. Now terror stood out on the skinny dude’s face.
“Help!” he shrieked. “Get me down!”
“Fall straight toward us!” the zookeeper shouted. “Quick, we’ll catch you. Don’t try to climb down.” To me, he said, “Brace yourself!”
The skinny guy spread out his arms and fell backward. His boot was wedged between the bars so tightly that it pivoted in place, but wouldn’t budge. His foot slid out of the boot. The weight of his body crashed into mine. The three of us thudded to the earth, and then we scrambled over the safety fence before the bear could paw at us through the bars.
Two policemen and a security guard grappled with the other two guys. They were facedown on the concrete path. The officers snapped handcuffs over their wrists and hauled them to their feet.
The zookeeper wiped his face with his sleeve. “Robyn, how are the bears doing in there?” he asked.
“They seem okay. The male backed off, and the female is still up near the top. I used the walkie-talkie to get someone to check that the upper gate is locked properly,” she answered. “They’re doing that right now.”
“Good. Thank you,” the zookeeper said. The crowd began to drift away.
“Neil, these are my friends, Trevor and Nick. Guys, this is Neil Warner, the zookeeper I’m working with this summer,” Robyn said.
He turned to me. “I owe you some thanks. That gate is usually impossible to open without an access key, but the lock is supposed to be repaired today. It was just my luck that these nuts decided to pull a stupid stunt today of all days.”
“You mean the bear can get out anytime it wants?” Nick said, his eyes wide.
“No. The gate is still secure, but the latch could be opened from the outside. The key mechanism isn’t working,” answered Neil.
“Why would someone try and let a bear out of its cage anyway?” Nick asked. “That’s so stupid.”
Neil shrugged. “Some people don’t believe in keeping animals in captivity for any reason.”
“Opening the enclosure doesn’t solve anything,” said Robyn. “Someone could get hurt, including the bear.”
“I know,” said Neil as he glanced up at the boot wedged between the bars of the gate. “This time, we were lucky.”