humphed at me and readjusted her beret.
“Agatha, he’s a cute little guy, but we can’t keep him hidden forever. And leaving him alone seems like a bad idea.” I’ve heard about maids at hotels, always wanting to come in and tidy up. I wasn’t going to have their blood on my hands.
Agatha shrugged. “Yeah, okay. But we’re not handing him over unless it’s really Twitchett.”
“Trust me, it’ll be him. He distinctly said the words ‘Señor Slappy.’” And that’s not the kind of thing that slips out by accident.
I’d considered trying to lose Agatha somewhere before the meet-up at the zoo until I realized that even if I did, she knew both the time (three o’clock) and the place (zoo). Even if she didn’t know the specifics, it’s not a big zoo; she’d figure it out. Besides, if I didn’t trust someone, I’d totally lose it. So I went ahead and told Agatha the whole story about Señor Slappy and what Twitchett had said on the phone. Once she got done rolling around on the floor laughing like an idiot, she agreed that that was probably where we should look for him.
It was definitely easier packing a happy, singing jackalope than a crabby, anxious one. All I really had to do was flop Jack into the Dora suitcase and step aside while he let loose with a megaburp. I hesitated before zipping him up. It was probably the last time I was going to see the little guy. My last look at a mythical creature. I swallowed hard and zipped the zipper. The last thingI needed was to get sentimental. Especially over a tiny killer I couldn’t keep anyway.
Agatha eyed the suitcase critically. “I should’ve gotten you another backpack,” she said. “That thing is way too distinctive.”
“Yeah, too late now,” I said. “Besides, in just a little while, it won’t even matter anymore.”
“I guess,” Agatha said. But she still was giving the Dora suitcase dirty looks. I don’t know why. I was the one toting it around looking like a loser.
We headed out, just like we were regular hotel patrons, which I guess we were, but wow, it felt weird.
The woman at the front desk gave me a confused wave as I went past, and the tuxedo guys even held the door for us. I could get used to this.
It was only about a ten-minute walk to the zoo, so before we knew it we were sitting on a bench, watching Señor Slappy target his next victims.
The sea lion pool is in the middle of the zoo, and it’s one of the prime attractions. Most of the sea lions weredoing laps underwater, only surfacing to blow snotty water around. But Señor Slappy was hovering near the edge of the tank, doing his best to smile at a woman with two little daughters. They didn’t suspect a thing.
Señor Slappy was going all out, rolling on his back and waving his flippers, doing his best to be the cutest darn sea lion on the planet. And it was working. The mom with the daughters was laughing and getting closer and closer to the railing—the railing that was right up at the edge of the water. This was going to be good.
“Any time now,” Agatha said, scanning the area. She didn’t seem to be paying attention to Señor Slappy. I looked around too. For a second I’d forgotten what we were there for.
I just wished Twitchett would show so we could get this over with. I was going to be sorry to say goodbye to Jack, but sorry in a “Yeah, see ya” kind of way and not in a “We’ll write every day” kind of way. The last thing I needed was some stinking jackalope hanging around all the time, even if he could help me skip out on curfew forthe rest of my life. But still, I had a twinge or two. I’m not made of stone. I tried to make myself feel better by thinking about Twitchett’s reward.
“There he is!” Agatha jumped to her feet and pointed to the other side of the sea lion pool. (More proof that Agatha’s spy skills could use some improving.)
I peered across the pool. She was right. It was definitely Professor Twitchett.
Talk about working on
“Agatha, he’s a cute little guy, but we can’t keep him hidden forever. And leaving him alone seems like a bad idea.” I’ve heard about maids at hotels, always wanting to come in and tidy up. I wasn’t going to have their blood on my hands.
Agatha shrugged. “Yeah, okay. But we’re not handing him over unless it’s really Twitchett.”
“Trust me, it’ll be him. He distinctly said the words ‘Señor Slappy.’” And that’s not the kind of thing that slips out by accident.
I’d considered trying to lose Agatha somewhere before the meet-up at the zoo until I realized that even if I did, she knew both the time (three o’clock) and the place (zoo). Even if she didn’t know the specifics, it’s not a big zoo; she’d figure it out. Besides, if I didn’t trust someone, I’d totally lose it. So I went ahead and told Agatha the whole story about Señor Slappy and what Twitchett had said on the phone. Once she got done rolling around on the floor laughing like an idiot, she agreed that that was probably where we should look for him.
It was definitely easier packing a happy, singing jackalope than a crabby, anxious one. All I really had to do was flop Jack into the Dora suitcase and step aside while he let loose with a megaburp. I hesitated before zipping him up. It was probably the last time I was going to see the little guy. My last look at a mythical creature. I swallowed hard and zipped the zipper. The last thingI needed was to get sentimental. Especially over a tiny killer I couldn’t keep anyway.
Agatha eyed the suitcase critically. “I should’ve gotten you another backpack,” she said. “That thing is way too distinctive.”
“Yeah, too late now,” I said. “Besides, in just a little while, it won’t even matter anymore.”
“I guess,” Agatha said. But she still was giving the Dora suitcase dirty looks. I don’t know why. I was the one toting it around looking like a loser.
We headed out, just like we were regular hotel patrons, which I guess we were, but wow, it felt weird.
The woman at the front desk gave me a confused wave as I went past, and the tuxedo guys even held the door for us. I could get used to this.
It was only about a ten-minute walk to the zoo, so before we knew it we were sitting on a bench, watching Señor Slappy target his next victims.
The sea lion pool is in the middle of the zoo, and it’s one of the prime attractions. Most of the sea lions weredoing laps underwater, only surfacing to blow snotty water around. But Señor Slappy was hovering near the edge of the tank, doing his best to smile at a woman with two little daughters. They didn’t suspect a thing.
Señor Slappy was going all out, rolling on his back and waving his flippers, doing his best to be the cutest darn sea lion on the planet. And it was working. The mom with the daughters was laughing and getting closer and closer to the railing—the railing that was right up at the edge of the water. This was going to be good.
“Any time now,” Agatha said, scanning the area. She didn’t seem to be paying attention to Señor Slappy. I looked around too. For a second I’d forgotten what we were there for.
I just wished Twitchett would show so we could get this over with. I was going to be sorry to say goodbye to Jack, but sorry in a “Yeah, see ya” kind of way and not in a “We’ll write every day” kind of way. The last thing I needed was some stinking jackalope hanging around all the time, even if he could help me skip out on curfew forthe rest of my life. But still, I had a twinge or two. I’m not made of stone. I tried to make myself feel better by thinking about Twitchett’s reward.
“There he is!” Agatha jumped to her feet and pointed to the other side of the sea lion pool. (More proof that Agatha’s spy skills could use some improving.)
I peered across the pool. She was right. It was definitely Professor Twitchett.
Talk about working on
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