Nanny X by Madelyn Rosenberg Page B

touching anything, in case of fingerprints. She was sure they’d find more, though.
    There was a lot of reading of rights and some blah blah blah about what would happen to the diamonds and whether the mayor should be forced to leave office, but I didn’t care about any of that stuff. “What’s going to happen to them?” I said. I meant the chimps, who weren’t clapping anymore. They were wearing their sad faces, like they’d just found out there really was a banana shortage.
    â€œWe’ll have to call animal control,” said Chief Grummel. “Looks like they’ll need backup.”
    Stinky had a different answer. He looked at me and Ali. “We saved the park,” he said. “And you saved me. So now I guess that means it’s time to . . .”
    â€œ
Save the chimps!
” we all said together.
    â€œSave the chimps,” Stinky agreed. “I’ll make a sign: Chimps Are Cool.”
    â€œ
Tundra
cool,” I said.
    â€œI’ll have a talk with the mayor,” Ali volunteered.
    â€œWhy not?” said Nanny X. “I think he owes us one—as long as he’s still in office.”
    Several phone conversations later, the authorities (that’s a TV word, not a reading connection word) promised to send the chimps to the David T. Jones Sanctuary for Wayward Primates. We went with them as far as the police station, where they waited in a cell with a lot of bananas for the sanctuary people to show up.
    I was hoping we could keep Howard, especially since Yeti wasn’t barking at him anymore and Yeti didn’t do that for just anyone. But Nanny X said no.
    â€œThey were meant to be wild,” she said. “He’ll be happy at the sanctuary. You’ll see.”
    But our nanny looked sad, too. Howard reached up and grabbed her crazy gardening hat and put it on his own head.
    â€œEee ee!” he said.
    He was still wearing the hat when the sanctuary people came to take him away.
    â€œHe can keep it,” Nanny X said. “It looks better on him, anyway.”
    Howard looked back at us and waved, and every single one of us waved back, including Chief Grummel but especially me.
    â€œHave fun,” I said. “Don’t drink too many coconut smoothies.”
    One of the sanctuary people reached for Howard’s hand, and he took it. I wiped my eyes, in case of crying. I thought about Howard swinging from the trees. I thought about Howard in a place where nobody was going to call him a hair ball anymore. And all of a sudden I stopped being sad, and it wasn’t just because I thought he’d have a good time at the David T. Jones Sanctuary for Wayward Primates; it was because somehow I knew I would see that chimp again someday.

21. Alison
Nanny X Calls It a Day

    After my brother cried like crazy over those chimps, and after the sanctuary people drove off in their van, Nanny X said we had to be going, too.
    Mr. Strathmore stopped us on the way out.
    â€œI want you to know,” he said in his very businesslike voice, “I’ve taken your ideas into account, and I’m going to talk to the mayor about canceling tonight’s zoning hearing. There’s no need to hurry, now that Big Adam’s business plan is off the table, and I think we have a lot more to think about. I also think we need to leave Blue Slide Park as it is.”
    We cheered, and Mr. Strathmore cleared his throat and went on.
    â€œAlso, I think creating a park for industry is a wonderful idea. It will allow us to keep moving forward, while keeping the things we love about our town the same. After all—we love it in Lovett!”
    Mayor Osbourne, who showed up at the police stationat the same time we did, said something about Applesauce King, an environmentally friendly applesauce company, but nobody was listening to him anymore. As we left the police station we passed the lady from the protest, who said she’d just heard