Mary Anne and the Zoo Mystery Read online

  “Whoa,” Alan murmured, leaning forward intensely. “You don’t think —?”

  Mrs. Wofsey cut him off with a steely look. “Now don’t get the idea that your keys will unlock the cages, because they won’t. The keys only look identical.”

  Alan actually blushed. I knew Logan, sitting behind us, was thoroughly enjoying Alan’s humiliation.

  “Mr. Chester is going to give each one of you your own key,” Mrs. Wofsey continued, “so that you can have access to the same information as any regular zoo visitor. I only ask that you take good care of them and at the end of three weeks, please return them.”

  I’ll have to admit, having my own key to the zoo was pretty exciting. Mr. Chester walked down the rows of benches and passed out the keys. When he was finished he turned to face Mrs. Wofsey. He looked as if he were expecting her to give him another set of orders.

  Mrs. Wofsey smiled at her assistant. “Mr. Chester, why don’t you tell the group about our most exciting project?”

  Strangely, Mr. Chester didn’t seem to share Mrs. Wofsey’s enthusiasm about anything. He just shrugged and started talking to us, saying in a flat voice, “The zoo has received a pair of gorillas on loan from San Diego. We’ll have them for four weeks.”

  “Their names are Mojo and James,” Mrs. Wofsey jumped in. “And they’re delightful. Mojo has been taught American Sign Language, and can actually communicate with her trainers — when she’s in the right mood. We’re extremely pleased to have them with us. There is one problem, however.” Mrs. Wofsey paused to clasp her hands in front of her, then took a deep breath. “Shortly before Mojo and James arrived, we began to receive disturbing notes saying things like, ‘Cages are cruel,’ and, ‘Animals should be free.’ There were enough of them to make us worry that some disgruntled person might try to let the animals out of their cages. Mojo and James are our guests and it’s of the utmost importance that we protect them, as well as all of the other animals here at Bedford Zoo. For that reason, I’ve hired extra security guards to patrol the zoo. They’ll be on duty around the clock.”

  Mrs. Wofsey hadn’t specifically mentioned the people with the picket signs but I was sure that’s who she meant the animals needed to be protected from. I’d read about animal rights activists who set laboratory animals free, so I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them did try to let the animals out of their cages.

  Then Mr. Chester stepped forward and gave us a quick rundown of the zoo regulations. They were pretty standard. Don’t litter. Don’t feed the animals. Never stick your hand in a cage. Try to be respectful and not scare the animals in any way. Even Howie and Alan found it easy to agree to follow those rules.

  “All right then.” Mrs. Wofsey clapped her hands together. “You have an hour and a half. Enjoy yourselves.”

  Howie, Alan, and I decided that we would circle the zoo and each make a list of the top three animals we would like to study.

  “Then we’ll compare notes,” I said, “and make our selection.”

  I watched to see which way Logan, Claudia, and Dawn went, and then deliberately headed our group in the opposite direction.

  Here’s the most bizarre thing about the afternoon — Howie, Alan, and I actually enjoyed ourselves. The sun was shining, and the animals seemed to have spring fever. They all looked interesting. It was going to be hard to choose just one to study. On the bus ride back to school, everyone talked nonstop about the animals. Logan and Alan didn’t say one mean thing to each other.

  The Free Babar project was now in full swing. We’d talked to all of our regular clients, and the kids were anxious to do whatever they could to save that little elephant.

  The Pike kids were particularly interested. Since their suggestion of making Free Babar buttons had been taken up by the BSC, they’d hardly talked about anything else. None of Mallory’s seven brothers and sisters thought of Thursday as a baby-sitting day. It was E (for elephant)-Day.

  Mallory met Kristy at the door that afternoon. “Come on in. The kids have been waiting for you. We’ve turned the kitchen into the art room. And the dining room is the button shop.”

  “Button shop?” Kristy peered around the door of the dining room. Nicky and the triplets, Byron, Jordan, and Adam, were all wearing visors of varying types and sitting around the dining room table. In the center of the table sat something that looked like a weird stapler.

  “What is that?” Kristy asked. “It looks dangerous.”

  “It’s my button-maker,” Nicky said, smiling proudly. “Grandma and Grandpa gave it to me, but we can’t figure out how it works.”

  “Are there instructions?” Kristy asked, joining the boys at the table.

  Jordan held up a crumpled piece of paper. “Yes. But no one can understand them.”

  “We’ve each taken a turn at it,” Mallory explained, “but so far we’ve struck out. We’re hoping you can do it.”

  Kristy examined the instructions, muttering to herself and pointing to the different parts of the stamp machine as she read. After a few minutes she looked up. “It says we’re supposed to have perfectly cut round circles of paper that will go over the metal backs.”

  Mal nodded. “We’ve got those. Margo, Vanessa, and Claire are working on the drawings in the kitchen — excuse me, the art room.”

  “Let’s go see.”

  The kitchen table was covered with Magic Markers, glitter pens, glue, and pictures of elephants. Some Babar books lay open for reference.

  “Awfully quiet in here,” Kristy murmured to Mallory as they watched the girls work.

  Mal nodded. “They take this button business very seriously. Their pictures of Babar have to be perfect. At least that’s what Margo told me.”

  Margo looked up. “I decided just to do Babar’s head. Does it look okay?”

  Claire peered over Margo’s shoulder. “It looks like a dog with big ears.”

  Margo was crestfallen. “It does?”

  “Of course not,” said Kristy. “If you make the nose just a little bit longer, it will be perfect. Also, put a bit of Babar’s green suit in the picture and everyone will know who he is right away.”

  “Especially if we write Free Babar on the buttons,” Vanessa pointed out.

  “Vanessa hasn’t drawn one elephant picture,” Margo complained. “I’ve had to do them all.”

  Vanessa was bent over her paper, working diligently. Scattered on the floor around her were crumpled pieces of paper.

  “If you’re not painting Babar,” Kristy asked, “what are you doing?”

  “I’ve written a poem,” Vanessa said, blushing slightly. She kept her arm crooked around her paper. “But it’s not ready yet so don’t anybody look.”

  Mallory patted her on the shoulder. “Come on, Vanessa, let’s hear it. It doesn’t have to be finished.”

  Vanessa thought about it for a second, then moved her arm. “You read it,” she said to Mal.

  “Babar the elephant

  Is very, very sad.

  If you help him find a home

  He will be oh, so glad.”

  “That’s really great, Vanessa,” Kristy said. “Don’t change a word.

  “Now we have two kinds of buttons to sell.”

  “Three!” Claire held up her drawing. It was an elephant with a banana almost his size next to him.

  “Three!” Kristy took Claire’s button drawing. “Good work, guys.”

  Mallory raised one finger. “We don’t exactly have the buttons yet. Remember, we can’t make the machine work.”

  Kristy rubbed her hands together. “I read the instructions. We’ll be making buttons in no time.”

  “Here.” Margo handed her the picture of the dog with big ears. “Do this one first. I made a bigger nose and wrote ‘Free Babar’ on it.”

  “Write ‘Free Babar’ on mine, too,” Claire cried.

  “I’ll do it,” Mallory said, taking the drawing and printing the words in her best calligraphy.

  “Here we go!” Kristy took
the first buttons to the dining room to assemble them in the machine.

  Mallory stayed with the girls, helping Margo draw elephant noses that were big enough, and gathering Claire’s banana drawings. She was also ready to help Vanessa with her spelling, which tended to be creative.

  Meanwhile in the dining room, Kristy tinkered with the Badge-o-matic, reading the instructions out loud as she followed them. “First, place the big ring in your palm and set the metal back, the artwork, and the plastic cover in its center. Be sure they’re dead center. Now put the thin ring on top of that, and the lid over that. Put your other hand over your palm and press the pieces together. But not too hard.”

  “This is confusing,” Nicky said.

  “You’re telling me,” Kristy muttered. She looked at the paper again. “Now place the metal backing on top, flip it over, and place the entire button in the Badge-o-matic. Press down lever.”

  Adam pushed down the lever. “Voilà!”

  Nicky held up a perfectly shaped button with Claire’s elephant in the middle. “Look! Our first button!”

  “All right!” The triplets gave each other and Kristy high fives.

  Kristy studied the instructions again. “It looks like the problem spot happens when you put the metal clasp on the back, press down with your palm, and flip the badge. That’s probably where things go wrong.”

  “No. We got confused way before that,” Nicky said.

  “Well, we know what we’re doing now,” Kristy replied. “We can declare the Badge-o-matic factory officially open.”

  Margo’s picture was done next, and then came Vanessa’s poem. In the meantime, Claire had made several more elephants and Mallory had joined in with her own interpretation of Babar. By the end of an hour they had successfully assembled twelve buttons.

  “I think we should start selling them,” Vanessa said.

  “But don’t you want to make more?” Kristy asked.

  “No!” Claire shook her head furiously. “We need money for Babar. Right now.”

  Kristy looked at Mallory and shrugged. “I guess we can do a test run. You know, just to see if anyone is interested in buying them.”

  Mal checked her watch. “We have one more hour before Mom and Dad are due home. That’ll give us enough time to cover a good chunk of the neighborhood.”

  Kristy nodded. “Why don’t we divide into two groups? You take your kids to the neighbors around your house, making sure to hit Burnt Hill Road and Elm Street. And I’ll take my group over to Bradford Court, Fawcett Avenue, and Kimball Street.”

  Vanessa found two baskets, and the kids carefully divided up the buttons, six in each. Then Byron, Margo, and Claire went off with Kristy, while Mallory took Vanessa and the rest of the boys with her.

  “Hold it!” Kristy shouted when Mallory and the others were halfway across the lawn. “We haven’t settled on a price for the buttons.”

  “One million dollars!” Claire cried.

  Mallory looked down at the basket. “A dollar?”

  “No.” Byron crossed his arms stubbornly. “They’re worth more than that.”

  Mallory shrugged. “Five dollars?”

  As usual, Kristy was the one with the best idea. “I know. We’ll say, ‘These are on sale for a suggested donation of five dollars. If you can’t afford that, we’ll take less. If you’d like to give more, that would be wonderful, too.’ ”

  “Excellent!” Adam cried, pumping his fist in the air. “They’ll probably give us ten!”

  The kids raced out of the yard with their baskets, looking like Halloween trick-or-treaters heading for their first house. Kristy and Mal made sure they guided their charges toward a few surefire wins.

  Mallory and her group stopped at the Braddocks’ house first. Haley answered the door. She already knew about the Free Babar campaign and hurried to find her mom.

  When Mrs. Braddock appeared, Matt was also by her side. She signed to him that we were selling the buttons and that he could pick one. He pointed to Margo’s and chuckled, signing something too quickly for Mal to understand. His mother translated. “Matt says he wants to buy that one because it looks like a dog with big ears.”

  Mal was glad Margo wasn’t in her group. She knew her sister would have been mortified.

  The kids knew how to sign, “See you later.” They shouted good-bye to Haley, who called back, “Next time you make buttons, let me know. I draw great elephants.”

  While Mallory’s group headed for the Prezziosos’ house, Kristy led her group to Bradford Court. Mrs. Newton was happy to buy a badge.

  “Look!” Vanessa pointed at the money they received. “She gave us a ten-dollar bill.”

  Adam and Nicky gave each other high fives. “Score!”

  Then while Mallory’s group hit the Perkinses’ house, Kristy’s went to the Marshalls’ and the Mancusis’.

  “This is amazing,” Margo cried as she skipped down the street. “Everyone is giving more than five dollars. With all this money, Babar will be free in no time.”

  Kristy checked her watch. “We have time for one more house and then we need to head back home.”

  “The Johanssens’!” Nicky raced up the walk and pushed the doorbell. Kristy and the others hurried behind him, the kids calling, “Wait for us, Nicky. We have the buttons.”

  Nicky put his ear against the door. “They’re home. I can hear footsteps and voices.”

  The kids, their best sales-pitch smiles plastered on their faces, struck a group pose in front of the door. Kristy stood behind them, her face frozen in a smile, too.

  That smile disappeared the moment the door opened. Charlotte was standing in the Johanssens’ foyer. And behind her, much to Kristy’s surprise, was her baby-sitter.

  “Stacey!” Kristy gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  “Baby-sitting,” Stacey replied. “What does it look like?”

  “But — but you’re not part of the club anymore,” Kristy spluttered. “How can you baby-sit?”

  “Dr. Johanssen asked me to sit, that’s how.” Stacey stared Kristy in the eye.

  “But the Johanssens are our clients,” Kristy continued.

  Stacey shrugged. “I guess they realized what a special relationship Char and I have, so they called me first.”

  There was a lot Kristy wanted to say to Stacey, but she didn’t, mostly because the kids were right there. Instead she said, “Well, I guess we can’t prevent you from taking jobs —”

  “I guess you can’t,” Stacey cut in. “Besides, I thought this would be a good opportunity for me to work on our biology project. I’ve decided to observe Carrot.”

  Carrot is Charlotte’s schnauzer. At the mention of his name, he came racing to the door, barking.

  “See?” Stacey gestured toward Carrot. “I guess I’ll write down that he barks when strange people come to the door.”

  That did it. If Kristy wasn’t seeing red before, she was now. She told me later that if she’d been a cartoon character, steam would have shot out of her ears.

  There was an uncomfortable silence as Kristy and Stacey glared at each other, fighting back what they really wanted to say. Finally, Charlotte broke the tension.

  “What’s in the basket?” she asked, stepping out onto the porch.

  “A Free Babar button,” Nicky replied. “Want to buy one?”

  “Sorry, Nicky,” Stacey said, in a much warmer voice than she’d used with Kristy. “Neither Charlotte nor I have any money. Why don’t you come back later when the Johanssens are home?”

  “Fine with me.” Kristy was already off the porch and walking down the sidewalk. “Come on, kids. Time to head back.”

  “ ’Bye, Charlotte!” the kids shouted. “ ’Bye!”

  “See you later,” Charlotte called back.

  Neither Stacey nor Kristy said good-bye to each other. They were both too mad.

  “Everyone wants to study either the gorillas or the monkeys,” I pointed out to Alan on Friday. We had just arrived at the zoo and
were standing near the primate enclosure. “We should pick animals that are different.”

  Alan narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. “Is Logan’s group studying the gorillas?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “But that’s not why I want to observe a different animal. It’s because I talked to Hannah Toce and Emily Bernstein and both of their groups will be watching Mojo and James, too.”

  Alan nudged Howie. “I think Mary Anne wants to let her boyfriend win.”

  “I do not,” I said huffily. “I want to win. That extra credit would mean as much to me as it would to Logan. Maybe more.”

  Science is not one of my strong points, even though I really like it. Logan, on the other hand, is a natural at it. He rarely studies for tests.

  “I think it would be good to do something really different, like choosing three different types of animals — one from the water, one that flies, and one that lives on land — and calling our report Fur, Feathers, and Fins.”

  “I want to study Mojo and James,” Howie said, stubbornly folding his arms across his chest. His face, which is covered in freckles, grew redder and redder as we talked.

  The three of us were still arguing when Logan, Dawn, and Claudia arrived. They’d been at the front gate gathering brochures about the special exhibits at the zoo.

  “I see you all are getting along quite nicely.” Logan smirked as he, Claudia, and Dawn passed by.

  “This is a private meeting,” Alan shot back. “Do you mind?”

  “Well, ex-cuuuuuuse me,” Logan replied. Then he turned to Dawn and Claudia and drawled, “That’s my idea of a fun meeting — yell at each other and turn red in the face.”

  Logan’s remarks were starting to get on my nerves. I turned to Alan and said in a voice that I hoped Logan would overhear, “Ignore him, Alan. We have to do things our own way.”

  Alan took a couple of deep breaths and then turned to Howie. “I agree with Mary Anne about Mojo and James. I mean, look, all the kids are watching the gorillas. And I think the fur, feathers, and fins idea is great — with one change.”