Welcome to the Jungle by Matt London Page A

coconut from which a straw, three wedges of pineapple, and seven paper umbrellas stuck out.
    The old lady pushed an inflatable turtle with a plate of cookies on its back across the water. It ran aground near Sprout, who passed the plate to Evie. “Y’all know I ain’t much for sweets.”
    â€œOf course, dear. I understand.” The old lady shooed the Big Game Huntress away. “Elizabeth, be a dear and fetch Mister Sanchez a wheatgrass smoothie. We take our smoothies very seriously around here.”
    The Big Game Huntress stalked away with a gray cloud over her, muttering, “I never should have hunted penguins at that Condo Corp ski resort and fallen in with these people. Sure, the money’s good, but give me a break. I’ve punched a tiger—I didn’t take this job to wait on cubs.”
    Sprout bowed his head to the old woman. “That’s mighty nice of you, ma’am. I thank you kindly.”
    â€œOooh! Such nice manners. You were raised right, young man.”
    â€œHow do you know our names?” Rick asked suspiciously.
    The old woman raised her sunglasses to inspect Rick with her sharp blue eyes. “I’m a very resourceful lady. One must be, to remain the super secret Chairwoman of the Board of the Condo Corporation.”
    Evie gawked in disbelief. “Then you’re . . .”
    â€œVenoma Condolini, at your service. But you can call me Grandma. Or Gran. Most of my grandchildren call me Granny.”
    Still trying to puzzle it out, Evie said, “Grandma . . . Condolini? Then Vesuvia is your . . .”
    Grandma Condolini’s face brightened at the mention of Vesuvia’s name. It was the first time Evie had ever seen anyone do so. “Oh! You know my granddaughter?”
    She insisted the children have a seat and eat a cookie, and then another, and then have a nice chat. They pulled off their shoes and socks, rolled up their pant legs, and dangled their feet in the warm water. The Big Game Huntress came back scowling with a tall glass of green sludge, which Sprout slurped joyously.
    â€œYou must forgive my chief of security,” Grandma Condolini explained. “She is quite humorless, but very good at her many jobs—catching trespassers, for instance. Yes, don’t bother explaining. We’ve been monitoring you ever since you landed your flying tree in my jungle.”
    â€œ
Your
jungle?” Rick asked confrontationally.
    â€œWhy yes,” Grandma Condolini said. “I own all this land. That’s why I chose it as the place to build New Boca.” She held out her arms, as if taking in the enormous bouncy chamber around them. “Isn’t it just grand?”
    â€œThis place is weird,” Evie said.
    Grandma Condolini pointed a finger at her. “You could do with a lesson in manners from your friend here, little missy. Do not disrespect your elders. Now, what exactly are you doing here?”
    â€œWhy should we tell you?” Evie folded her arms over her chest. She wasn’t about to be polite to Vesuvia’s grandmother, of all people.
    â€œWhy? Why, because if I don’t know, then how can I help you?”
    â€œHelp us?” Rick sounded as confused as Evie for once. “You expect us to believe
you
would help
us
? You chopped up the rainforest to build this place. A robot gorilla attacked us in
your town.
And your granddaughter is a complete psychopath.”
    Grandma Condolini nodded. “Ah. Now I see why we have gotten off on the wrong orthopedically corrected foot. How did Vesuvia wrong you?”
    â€œYou mean besides tormenting me at school?” Evie asked.
    â€œAnd kidnapping us?” Rick added.
    â€œAnd sinking our submarine and killing our friend?” Evie felt a deep pain in her heart remembering the untimely death of her father’s former research partner, Doctor Grant.
    With a heavy sigh, Grandma Condolini said, “Oh dear me.