Ann Martin: Mary Anne And The Zoo Mystery

It was Thursday, and we were leaving on our first zoo trip. We were off to an extremely bad start.

Alan and Logan had been making snide comments to each other in the halls, in the lunchroom, and in the yard in front of the school. I thought they were being pretty silly, but I couldn't say anything to either one of them, because I didn't want to be accused of taking sides.

"Are you going to let him sit in that seat?" Howie Johnson whispered to Alan.

"Of course he is," I said. "I'm on your team. And Logan's with me."

Alan thought about that for a few moments, then huffed off to the back row of the school bus. After he sat down, he called to me, "Once we hit the zoo, he's not coming with us. No way."

Logan turned around and smiled at Alan. "No problem. I'd much rather spend my time with some other animals — like James and Mojo."

Alan turned to Howie and whispered, "Who are they? Some guys from high school?"

Howie laughed so hard he snorted. 'James and Mojo are gorillas."

Dawn and Claudia, who were sitting directly across from Logan and me, burst into the giggles, and Alan shot them a dark look. "I knew that."

Mr. Kirkwood, who taught shop, had volunteered to be the driver of our bus. He waited outside until all of the eighth-graders assigned to our bus had boarded. Then he hopped into the driver's seat and pulled the door shut.

"All aboard!" Mr. Kirkwood shouted like a railroad conductor. "Next stop, Bedford Zoo!"

We pulled out of the school parking lot, and followed the tree-lined streets to the edge of

town. As we turned onto the highway, several spitballs zinged over our heads. I didn't have to turn around. I could guess where they'd come from.

"Oh, gross!" Shawna Riverson cried from two seats in front of me. "Alan and Howie are shooting spitballs."

Hannah Toce looked over her shoulder and snapped, "Why don't you two grow up?"

Then Claudia and Dawn both turned around and said, "Yeah. Grow up!"

Howie and Alan crossed their eyes and made faces at the front of the bus.

"Jerks," Hannah said as a general announcement to the rest of the bus. A low murmur and bobbing of heads signaled that everyone agreed with her.

Logan squeezed my hand. "Poor Mary Anne," he murmured. "Stuck with those guys for three weeks."

I wanted to tell Logan that he could help make things a lot easier if he'd stop bumping heads with Alan, but I lost my nerve. I was afraid Logan might think I was siding with Alan.

The rest of the ride was without incident, thank goodness. For a moment it looked as if we were actually going to have a pretty calm afternoon. But as the bus pulled into the parking lot, we were met by a small crowd of about

AC;

ten people, waving signs in front of the bus.

"Zoos are cruel. Don't go in there!" one gray-haired woman cried.

"Whoa," Logan said. "It looks like the animal rights people don't like Bedford Zoo."

I was worried. "Do you think we'll have to fight our way through the picket line?"

"Hardly," Logan said, chuckling. "I think this is as active as these protesters get. Don't worry, they can't stop us from entering the

zoo."

"They can't stop us," Claudia agreed, watching the group intently from her side of the bus, "but they can certainly make us feel bad."

"Kids, listen up," Mr. Kirkwood called from the front of the bus. "When you get off the bus, don't dawdle. Go straight into the visitors' center." He looked at us in the rearview mirror, his mouth drawn tight. "Is. that clear?"

We nodded silently.

He pulled forward, leaving the protesters behind, and drove to the front gate of the zoo. He stopped the bus and we filed out so fast, I think we set a field trip record. No one wanted to talk to the picketers.

Once the last student was inside the visitors' center, everyone relaxed. The walls were covered with large, colorful photos of Bengal tigers, giraffes, polar bears, flamingos, elephants, and camels. Purple-and-green nylon banners hung from the ceiling. On each banner was the profile of an animal. At one end of the room, cedar benches had been arranged in rows facing a small platform. The space was light and airy and made you feel good. I hoped the rest of the zoo made you feel the same way.

"Good afternoon," said a pleasant woman with blonde hair in a blunt, chin-length cut as she took her place on the platform. She was tanned and slender and wore a navy blue skirt and blazer. "I'm Mrs. Wofsey, the director of Bedford Zoo. As soon as you take your seats, we'll begin our presentation."

Alan and Howie grabbed the bench right in front of Mrs. Wofsey. I decided I had better join them so I said good-bye to Logan and slid onto the bench beside Howie. Alan leaned over and whispered, "Glad to see you're back on the winning team."

All of this talk of winning was getting pretty tedious but I smiled anyway. (That’s me — Miss Don't-Make-Waves.)

"Now the first thing I'd like to do is introduce my assistant, Mr. Chester." Mrs. Wofsey gestured to a short, heavy-set man in a blue blazer standing in the corner. He was bald and wore gold-rimmed glasses. He didn't smile or say hi, but just gave us a brisk nod.

'I'll bet he's a lot of fun at parties," Howie cracked. I gave him a nudge with my elbow to silence him.

"Mr. Chester and I are very proud of our zoo," Mrs. Wofsey continued. "And we're excited about some of our recent acquisitions."

The lights dimmed and a picture flashed on the wall behind her. It looked like a small television painted bright red. On the side was a keyhole.

"This is one of our new key-activated information boxes. Visitors to the zoo pay a one-dollar fee and receive a key, like this." Mrs. Wofsey held up a gold key. "This allows them to unlock our information boxes, and browse through the material. Don't worry, it’s basic background information and won't interfere with your research."

Mrs. Wofsey pulled another key out of her pocket. It looked identical to the first one. "This is my zoo key. You'll notice that the info keys are replicas of the keys the zoo employees use to enter the animal cages."

"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 crue,’ 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."