The One and Only Bob Read online

  More people gather. I see Maya next to Ruby, which makes me feel better.

  “Name’s Xena,” says the shepherd.

  “Bob.”

  I nudge Ivan’s fingers with my nose. Nothing.

  “And this is Ivan. My best bud.”

  “Sorry to hear it,” she replies, and I don’t like the sound of her voice.

  With great care, and far too slowly for my taste, rescue workers begin removing chunks of the wreckage and tossing them to one side.

  Xena and me, we mostly stay outa the way, but every so often I lick Ivan’s hand, just so he knows we’ve got him covered.

  I glance over at Maya and Ruby. Maya is wiping tears from her eyes while she strokes Ruby’s ears. Ruby is giving Maya a comforting trunk-hug.

  Good ol’ Ruby. Wise beyond her years, that gal.

  I check the crowd again. Still no sign of Julia or George. And that’s when a sickening thought hits me like a bite to the belly.

  What if Ivan isn’t the only one under the rubble?

  dragon

  More police cars and ambulances arrive at the park. A handful of keepers stream in, too, looking frantic and confused.

  The weirdest thing of all? Wandering through all the destruction are random park residents. Animals. Birds. Reptiles.

  Residents who most definitely do not belong in Gorilla World.

  A police officer is chasing an armadillo.

  A great blue heron watches the mayhem from her position atop a giraffe statue.

  A wallaby pokes his nose out of a bush, his saucer eyes catching the fire engine lights.

  “Nets!” someone yells. “We need more nets!”

  An older gentleman holding a blue umbrella lets out a bloodcurdling scream. “Dragon!” he cries. “I swear to you I just saw a baby dragon!”

  “Sir,” says a keeper named Malik, “no worries. That’s actually a Gila monster. His name is Gilligan.”

  A paramedic raises his hand. “They have, like, venom, don’t they?”

  “They say a healthy adult won’t die from it.” Malik shrugs. “Although they’ll be in some serious pain.”

  “Wonderful,” the paramedic mutters.

  I glance over my shoulder to see Sara running toward Maya. I can’t hear her words, but I can definitely see the worry in her eyes.

  Xena’s ears tip forward. “They’re getting the cutters and the jaws of life.”

  “Jaws?” I repeat. Don’t like the sound of that.

  “Spreads metal. They’re probably getting close. C’mon. We need to get outa the way.”

  “I ain’t going anywhere.”

  “I hear ya,” she says, and I can tell from the weary sound of her voice that she’s had this conversation before. “But the best thing for Ivan right now is to let the humans do their thing.”

  I think about it. Figure she’s right. I give his fingers one last lick. They don’t move.

  Nothing. Nada.

  We pick our way to the bottom of the debris pile. “Hang in there, Ivan!” I call. “We love ya, buddy!”

  I know it’s crazy, but I listen anyways, hoping for a sign, any sign, that he’s still with us.

  hugging

  I run to Kinyani. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “He’s gonna make it.”

  I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

  From there, I head over to Maya and Sara and Ruby. Maya has a radio handset in one hand and, for some reason, a young, squirmy meerkat in the other.

  Sara kneels down and hugs me tighter than any sweater she’s ever knit. “Bob,” she cries, “what happened to your nose? And look at your paw!”

  Some dogs don’t like to be hugged that way.

  I’m one of them.

  But Sara needs to do it. I can tell somehow. So I let her.

  Isn’t so bad, really.

  loose

  A new police officer joins us. “Officer Williams.” She nods at Maya. “You’re with the park, right?”

  “Yes. I’m Maya.”

  “This . . .” Officer Williams pauses. “We need to get this under control ASAP. Winds are gonna pick up, and we haven’t even hit the eye. Storm surge could be an issue. This one’s moving slow.”

  “We’ve got a skeleton staff here,” says Maya as the meerkat attempts to eat her earring. “Early reports say maybe a third of the habitats are damaged or destroyed.” She shakes her head. “We’ve got some injuries, some possible fatalities, too.”

  “Human?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Anything loose that could be a . . . you know, problem?”

  Maya presses her lips together. “Yep.”

  “Such as?”

  “A couple Florida panthers. Gray wolves. Python, maybe. Possibly an alligator or two. American alligators, not Chinese.”

  “I don’t care if they’re from Canada. If they eat people, we’re in trouble.”

  “They don’t. Typically.”

  “Typically,” Officer Williams repeats. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

  Sara loosens her grip on me ever so slightly. “Maya,” she asks, voice trembling, “have you heard anything on the radio from George and Julia? I keep calling, but the cell towers are down.”

  “Nothing yet,” Maya says. “But I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “Nearest shelter’s over at Lincoln Elementary,” says Officer Williams. “You could check there.”

  Sara frowns. “They were probably here right before the tornado hit.”

  “We’re searching the park, ma’am,” says the officer. “We’ll find them if they’re here.”

  “Everybody, clear out,” a firefighter with a megaphone yells from a spot near Ivan. “Could be danger of more collapse. We’re working on this last metal beam.”

  I look to see if Ivan’s fingers are moving.

  Nothing.

  “Hold on, Ivan!” I yell.

  Nothing.

  Sometimes nothing is the worst sound in the world.

  Ruby lets out a little elephant cry, and then I realize maybe that’s the worst sound in the world.

  cpr

  The wind dies down to a whisper, as if the world is holding its breath along with the rest of us.

  “Do you have any vets standing by?” asks Officer Williams as two more ambulances screech to a halt nearby.

  “Yes.” Maya nods. “Not sure when they’ll get here, though.”

  Officer Williams waves down an ambulance crew member. “You ever give CPR to a gorilla?”

  “Primate’s a primate, I guess,” he says, but he doesn’t look too sure. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re waiting on equipment, but we’re stretched pretty thin. Lot of structural damage on the north side of town,” says Officer Williams. “They’re going to get a chain on that last beam, try pulling it free with one of the cars.”

  “Somebody under there?”

  “Gorilla, we think. Not sure what else. Or who else.”

  I look at all the cement. All the wood and metal. Nobody could survive that. Not even a silverback gorilla with the strength of eight men.

  And yet. Ivan’s fingers moved.

  And then they didn’t.

  Several minutes pass. The rain slows a bit, along with the wind. The crowd watches as three firefighters attach a long chain to the metal beam next to Ivan, then hook it to a tow bar on the rear of a police car.

  “Back up, folks!” calls the megaphone guy. “Farther!”

  The chain clanks, the car growls, the wheels squeal.

  Grinding. Groaning.

  Progress. Just a bit.

  The big chunk of metal has definitely moved a whisker or two.

  More grinding. Wheels dig holes in the ground. Mud flies like thick brown rain.

  A lurch. A snap.

  Clanks and rumbles as the big beam jerks free.

  The rescue workers move in, digging with their bare hands. Cement and dust and metal and bits and pieces of Gorilla World are everywhere.

  But whe
re is Ivan?

  no

  No movement, nothing.

  But after a few more minutes, one thing is clear.

  A gorilla-shaped mound has appeared. Covered by dust and dirt and debris and splattered with rain.

  It just lies there.

  I’ve lost a lot in my life.

  My whole family. Stella.

  But Ivan? No. It can’t happen.

  Not Ivan.

  miracle

  The mound sits up.

  gorilla ghost

  Ivan emerges from a cloud of dust like a jumbo-sized ghost.

  He blinks several times. Coughs. Shakes. Stretches a little.

  He’s holding a banana.

  Which he proceeds to eat.

  Everyone, and I do mean everyone, cheers.

  wolf on the run

  I scramble over to Ivan, and he gives me a look that says, You’re the best, Bob.

  “I thought you were a goner,” I say, licking some banana goo off his chin.

  “Me too.” Ivan seems a little dazed. His eyelashes are white with dust. “What happened, anyway?”

  “Tornado.”

  “Ruby okay? Kinyani? Julia? George?”

  “Haven’t seen Julia or George yet. Kinyani’s over there, carrying on.”

  A paramedic holding a box of medical equipment approaches us nervously.

  “I’ve got this!” calls a woman I recognize as one of the park veterinarians. The paramedic looks happy to step aside.

  The vet gently but firmly pushes me out of the way. “I’ll be back,” I tell Ivan.

  I run to Kinyani. “He’s good, totally good.” The look of joy in her eyes makes me want to give her an affectionate nose nudge.

  Almost.

  From there I join Ruby and Maya. “I was so scared, Bob!” Ruby whispers.

  “Me too,” I admit. “Me too. But he’s fine. I promise.”

  We watch a pair of otters dart past, chased by a guy with a net. One of the firefighters who’d been clearing debris yells, “We’re clear here. No sign of other victims.”

  Sara closes her eyes and I can smell her relieved tears.

  While Maya listens to her walkie-talkie, trying to take stock of the damage to the park, Officer Williams’s police radio hisses and crackles with new problems, new flooding, new dire predictions.

  “Copy that,” she says into her radio. Even with the chaos and noise, I’m close enough to the radio to catch the tinny sound of frantic barking.

  “We’ve got a unit reporting the animal shelter down the street’s flooding,” Officer Williams says. “Also we’ve got trailer park damage on Twelfth Street, an oak down at Nelson Avenue blocking traffic, and a big rig overturned near the fairgrounds. And that’s just for starters.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice something airborne. It’s graceful and bold, like a huge, wingless bird.

  The crowd gasps.

  It’s Kimu.

  He lands on the hood of Officer Williams’s squad car. His eyes are glazed, his coat wet and shimmering.

  “We’ve got a 10-91 here,” Officer Williams whispers into her receiver. “Confirmed. Seems there’s a, uh, wolf on top of my vehicle.”

  Slowly she reaches for the pistol on her hip. “Please advise.”

  shots fired

  Several officers raise their guns. The tranquilizer dart guy takes aim too.

  “No!” Maya yells. “No guns!”

  Kimu blinks, eyes darting right and left, then leaps off the car with such grace and speed it’s like he owns the wind.

  Two shots ring out. Silence follows.

  “Was he hit?” someone asks.

  Maya closes her eyes. “I sure hope not.”

  “I sure hope so,” someone else says.

  jungle

  As I watched that leap, watched Kimu fly, I didn’t know what to think.

  Part of me was like, Go for it, dude.

  And the other part of me was thinking, It’s a jungle out there.

  a situation

  Officer Williams climbs onto a picnic table. Someone hands her a megaphone so she can be heard over the din.

  “Folks,” she yells, “listen up. We’ve got a handful of animal control workers coming over, but several roads are already flooded out, and the weather guys are saying Gus is gonna take his sweet time. Meantime, park supervisors, call in more help, but only if your workers can get here safely.”

  The unmistakable roar of a big cat rolls over us like slow thunder.

  “Any more tranq guns?” Officer Williams asks the park director, who’s just arrived.

  “Three in reserve,” she answers.

  “Nets?”

  “We have a dozen.”

  “Okay, then.” Officer Williams’s radio crackles. I can hear more shouting, more barking dogs. “Shelter’s flooding,” she says.

  “Yeah, that’s happened there before,” the director says. “Usually just a foot or two of water.”

  “Okay, public safety is where we start.” Officer Williams wipes rain from her forehead. “We need to get the word out that these animals are on the loose.”

  “Of course,” says the director. “We have protocols in place. But we need to be careful how we word this. People might overreact, might—”

  “Ma’am,” a firefighter interrupts, “I see a python in my backyard, I’m sure as heck gonna overreact.”

  “First things first,” says Officer Williams. “Triage in the main office. Check wreckage for any survivors, human or animal. Fan out with tranq guns, get an inventory on how many animals are loose.”

  I wonder how it’s possible that Officer Williams can seem so composed. The air reeks with fear, from animals, birds, people.

  From me.

  And yet she doesn’t seem worried about herself. Just other people. Weird, the way some humans stick their necks out for others. Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, does it?

  Again, the crackle, the hiss, the barking. My ears perk up for a minute. Was that a familiar voice? Maybe someone I know is in the slammer?

  “I’m going to the shelter at the elementary school,” Sara says. Her hands are trembling, but her voice is firm. “To look for George and Julia. Just in case.”

  She strokes my head and I’m happy to let her. I wonder if I should tag along with her, see if I can help out. Now that I know Ivan and Ruby are safe.

  Hiss. Crackle. Meow. Bark.

  I hear it again. My ears go on alert. My body goes rigid.

  No. It’s impossible.

  never

  Some barks you never forget.

  one place

  I know what I have to do.

  Despite the turmoil all around me, the noises, the smells, the fear, the confused humans, the frantic animals. Despite my worry about Julia and George.

  I know there’s one place I need to be.

  a split second

  I want to tell Ivan and Ruby. But Ivan is still being poked at by the rhymes-with-pet-threat.

  Although, come to think of it, she doesn’t seem like much of a threat. In a movie, she’d be one of the good guys.

  To my annoyance, Sara picks me up. I hate being picked up. Unless it’s my idea. Then it’s totally cool.

  “Maya,” she says, “you let me know, first sign of George and Julia, okay?”

  “Promise,” says Maya, and she places her hand on Sara’s shoulder.

  Humans, always with the touching. Although I kind of get it, under the circumstances.

  “You can’t take Bob to the school shelter. They’re not allowing any more pets,” Maya points out. “And the animal shelter is flooding, it sounds like. Why don’t you leave him here? I’ll put him my office. He’ll be safe.”

  No way is that on my agenda.

  Sara nods. “Good idea.”

  She starts to hand me over but hesitates when she realizes Maya still has a meerkat wrapped around her neck.

  It’s just a split second, but a split second is all it takes to escape when y
ou’re Bob, untamed and undaunted.

  on my way

  “Bob!” Sara cries.

  “Grab that dog!” Maya yells.

  I spent a good part of my life running from a certain guy named Mack, and I still have my moves. I twist and spin and dip, and before you can say Yes sirree Bob, they’ve given up.

  I backtrack, slip under a bench, and make my way to Ruby. “Ruby,” I whisper, “I gotta go. Something important’s come up. You and Ivan see if you can find George and Julia.”

  “I want to come!” Ruby says, stomping her right front foot in a huge puddle.

  “You need to keep an eye on Ivan,” I say. “Make sure Kinyani doesn’t drive him loco with her sobbing. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  I don’t wait for an answer.

  I’m off into the wild, into the world filled with wind and rain, with wolves and alligators, with a voice that could rip my heart in two.

  Three

  looking

  Ivan used to ask me what I did when I wasn’t hanging out at the Exit 8 Big Top Mall and Video Arcade.

  I wasn’t like the rest of the animals. Caged, trapped.

  I told him I was scrounging for food. And he never questioned it.

  When you think about it, though, where’s a better place to find food than the floor of a mall at the end of the day?

  Yeah. I wasn’t looking for food.

  I was looking for her.

  For Boss.

  what if

  At first, I didn’t admit it to myself.

  You know how it is when you wish for something so bad you’re afraid to say it out loud, ’cause what if it never happens?

  It was like that.

  I knew the odds were crazy long. I knew I was nuts.

  And yet.

  I went out, day after day, searching for her.