Zucchini Out West Read online

  “That’s great,” said Mr. Reynolds, cutting into his triple-decker stack of buckwheat pancakes. “I’m proud of you.”

  “My tooth is hanging by a thread,” said Emma.

  Billy ignored Emma’s remark. “He said I could go on a survey,” he continued. “He said I could help.”

  “It might even come out in my soup.”

  “I’ll pull it out if you want me to,” said Mr. Reynolds.

  “No thank you,” said Emma. “I don’t want to encourage it.”

  “It won’t hurt.”

  “They all say that.”

  “I wish I could have shown him Zucchini,” said Billy.

  “Why couldn’t you?” asked Emma.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Like my tooth. If I eat solid food, I might swallow it, my tooth, that is, which I don’t want, because a tooth in my stomach is too strange to think of, but if I don’t eat solid food, I might get weak and faint and hit my head on the floor and break my head bone.”

  When they went to pay their check, Billy noticed the large wooden fish hanging above the cash register. Its nose pointed downward and it held a dollar bill in its mouth. PAY HERE, it said in green letters on the side of the fish. Next to the register was a stack of postcards. The card on top showed a gray wolf standing alone on a rock. Billy thought of Margaret.

  She’d like that postcard, Billy thought.

  He decided to buy it for her. As he paid the woman behind the register (and under the fish), he had the thought that normally he wouldn’t have bought the card. He would have wanted to, but he would have been afraid.

  Maybe she already has it, he would have thought. Or maybe she has a better one. She’ll think I’m stupid. Why should I give her a present? It’s not her birthday.

  These were the thoughts he would have had, but it was different now. Somehow, after losing his shyness in the interview, it seemed still to be gone. He decided not to mail the card, but to take it back and give it to her. He wanted to see her face when she looked at it.

  Outside, Zucchini was waiting with One-Day Service in the back of the Pathfinder. Once again the mouse was treading her wheel.

  Patience, thought Zucchini as he huddled deep within his sweatshirt sleeve. That’s what I need. Either patience or a pair of tiny earplugs.

  Squeak, squeak, rattle, rattle, bang, bang, went the wheel.

  “Smell the cheese, find the cheese, eat the cheese,” said the mouse.

  Zucchini curled up in a tight ball, turning his head upside down and tucking in his paws.

  Earplugs would be nice, he thought, but they wouldn’t solve everything. I still wouldn’t be on the prairie. Why won’t Billy take me? He said he would. I have to be patient. He always keeps his word.

  The next morning they left for Laramie. There was still no word from Miss Pickett, and Billy was getting worried.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” said his father as they headed south on Route 191.

  I was thinking that too, thought Zucchini.

  He was resting on Billy’s shoulders in his traveling position. He could sense Billy’s worry.

  “Will I ever see Buck E. Benson?” asked Emma from her place in the back seat. “That’s the question.”

  “No it’s not,” said Billy. He wasn’t in the mood for Emma’s problems.

  “It is to me,” said Emma. “Everybody has a question, and that’s mine.”

  It’s not a very serious one, thought Billy. It’s not like wondering if you’ll have to give away your best friend and never see him again and never be able to explain.

  That troubled Billy more than anything else, the idea that Zucchini might have to be sent away and never know the reason why.

  Billy reached up, took Zucchini off his shoulders, and held him close against his heart.

  Hamster Host

  Two hours later Emma screamed.

  “Don’t scream,” said Mr. Reynolds.

  Emma screamed again.

  I wish she wouldn’t do that, thought Zucchini. He had been asleep on Billy’s lap, dreaming of the prairie. He had been running in the grass, flipping in circles, rolling like a doughnut, sprouting wings.

  “There he is!” shrieked Emma. She was jumping up and down in the backseat.

  “Who?” asked Mr. Reynolds.

  Billy didn’t have to ask.

  Zucchini peered through the windshield at the redbrick building with the white trim around the windows. Across the front of the building, just below the roof, was a large sign. BUCK E. BENSON’S BURGER ROOM PLAYSHOW, it said. Below the sign, shaking hands with a group of children, was an enormous hamster.

  Who’s that? thought Zucchini.

  “Buck E.!” shrieked Emma.

  “Don’t scream!” said Mr. Reynolds.

  “Turn here,” said Emma.

  Billy knew they would have to stop. They would have to shake hands with Buck E. Benson and play stupid games and eat burgers. Anything else was unthinkable.

  Zucchini stared at the giant hamster.

  I don’t trust him, he thought as they pulled into the parking lot. He’s too big, and he has hands.

  “You have to stay here,” said Billy, putting Zucchini into his traveling cage in the back of the Pathfinder.

  For once Zucchini didn’t mind.

  Emma suddenly became shy. It was the first time Billy had ever seen her like that. She held her father’s hand and hung back behind him, looking at the ground.

  “Come on,” said Mr. Reynolds. “You’ve been waiting weeks for this.”

  “I know,” said Emma, still looking at the ground.

  “Let’s go,” said her father.

  “He’s big.”

  “You knew he was going to be big.”

  “Not so much.”

  “Well, that’s the size he is.”

  “Hello there,” said the giant hamster. He was brown and furry with a fat belly, large teeth, and a polka-dot bow tie. He looked down at Emma. “You must be a kangaroo.”

  Emma stared at her boots.

  “Well, my gosh,” said Buck E. “We never had a kangaroo at the Burger Room before.”

  “I know,” said Emma. She looked up briefly at the giant hamster, then back down at her boots.

  “What do you have in your pouch?”

  “Three pretzels and a rubber chicken.”

  “Well, what do you know.” Buck E. pulled his furry sleeve away from his furry glove and checked his watch. “You should go on into the Burger Room and have yourself a good time.”

  “Say good-bye to Buck E.,” said Mr. Reynolds.

  “Good-bye,” said Emma as they started through the door. “My tooth is hanging by a thread.”

  “Well, what do you know,” said Buck E.

  “Soon it’s coming out,” Emma called back over her shoulder, but the door had already closed.

  Inside, Billy looked for a phone. He passed the burger stand and moved toward the game area. There was a line in front of a cagelike space surrounded by netting. Inside children jumped on an air mattress amidst many colored balls. At the end of the room was a stage where stuffed animals moved stiffly and sang a medley of songs about themselves.

  Emma headed for the jumping-ball cage as Billy spotted a phone. He reached his mother right away, but the news was not good. Since she hadn’t received the letter, Mrs. Ferguson had called Miss Pickett at the ASPCA. Miss Pickett was away on vacation.

  The next day in Laramie, Billy put Zucchini into the tub at the Holiday Inn. He also put in his litter tray, his sweatshirt sleeve, his food, and his water bowl. He thought the tub would be a nice change for Zucchini. He had to leave him alone for several hours.

  “I have to leave you here for a while,” said Billy. “I wish I could take you, but I can’t.”

  Why not? thought Zucchini.

  “Good-bye,” said Billy.

  Good-bye, thought the tiny ferret. Hurry back.

  Billy left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He hated to
leave Zucchini, but he had no choice. They were going to the captive-breeding center. Dr. Thorne might be there. If he saw Zucchini, he might say he was a black-footed ferret, that Billy couldn’t keep him. Billy had one more day in Wyoming, one more chance to hear from Miss Pickett. If he didn’t hear by the afternoon, he would show Zucchini to Dr. Thorne. He would have to. But not a moment before.

  What should I do? thought Zucchini as he sat in the large, slippery tub. Should I escape to the prairie alone, or should I try to be patient and wait? If I go alone, I might get lost. I might never see Billy again. I couldn’t stand that. He said he would take me. But what if something happens and he can’t? I have to get back to the prairie! It’s the most wonderful place in the world!

  Sybille

  The Sybille Research Center was located in a beautiful canyon. Hills rose sharply on either side of the simple one-story buildings and outdoor pens. Many kinds of animals were studied and cared for at the center. Billy wanted to see them all.

  Dr. Thorne was not due to arrive until after eleven. Billy had spoken to one of his assistants on the phone. The assistant’s name was Ted, and he had offered to show Billy around.

  Ted was outside when they drove up. He wore a red shirt and blue jeans and large lace-up workboots. After saying hello, he spoke about the ferrets. “We keep the ferrets in there,” he said, pointing to the single-story gray-green building on the left. There was a sign out in front.

  FERRETS

  BREEDING

  Quiet Please

  said the sign.

  “Maybe Dr. Thorne’ll let you see ‘em,” said Ted.

  I hope so, thought Billy.

  “My tooth came out and there’s a hole,” said Emma. “I can push my tongue through.”

  Ted didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He mumbled something unclear as he led them in the direction of the pens. “This here’s your Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep,” he said, stopping by the first pen. The area inside slanted sharply up a hill. Three sheep shared the space. They were large, with thick coats, and horns that curled in a half spiral. Two were standing, looking off into the distance, while the third bashed its head repeatedly into a large tree.

  “Why is it doing that?” asked Mr. Reynolds.

  “That’s what they do,” said Ted.

  Billy had read about the bighorn sheep. He knew about their shockproof skulls.

  Zucchini would like to see this, he thought. I wish he were here.

  Ted showed them many animals—moose, deer, elk, and antelope. He showed them a mountain lion named Tanya and several snakes.

  “Could I use your phone?” asked Mr. Reynolds when they reached the snakes. Snakes made him uneasy and he needed to call his agent. It seemed the perfect time to place the call.

  “Over there,” said Ted, pointing to a nearby door. He turned to Billy. “That’s it besides the ferrets,” he said as Mr. Reynolds headed for the phone.

  Just then a man pulled up in a dark-green four-by-four. He hopped out and hurried over to where Billy and Emma were talking with Ted. He wore jeans and a tan short-sleeved knit shirt. He was drinking soda from a can. “Hi, there,” he called out to Billy. “I’m Dr. Thorne.”

  “Hello,” said Billy.

  “You came a long way,” said Dr. Thorne. “You must be pretty interested in ferrets.”

  “I am,” said Billy.

  “He has one,” said Emma.

  Billy felt as if the ground had opened beneath his feet.

  “He’s black-footed,” Emma added.

  “He’s probably domestic,” said Dr. Thorne. He turned to Billy. “Where’d you get him?” he asked.

  “New York City,” said Billy. He was having trouble getting a deep breath.

  “He likes lima beans,” said Emma, “but not the skins. He spits those under the couch.”

  “If he’s from New York, he’d be a European ferret,” said Dr. Thorne, ignoring Emma’s announcement. “He’d be what they call domestic.”

  “He’s black-footed,” repeated Emma. “He has the black foot parts and the robber face and he’s in the tub at the Holiday Inn.”

  Billy’s heart was beating fast.

  “Black-footed ferrets are found out west here, or they used to be,” said Dr. Thorne. “There’s none around anymore, except the ones we released.”

  Thank goodness! thought Billy. He doesn’t believe her.

  Frannie

  Mr. Reynolds and Emma left Billy at the research center with his tape recorder and his list of questions. Mr. Reynolds would be checking the hotel for messages. If Billy’s mother had received a letter from Miss Pickett, Mr. Reynolds would call Billy at the center and let him know.

  Dr. Thorne led Billy past the FERRETS BREEDING Quiet Please sign straight toward the double doors of the captive breeding center. There were signs on both the doors.

  BLACK-FOOTED FERRET BUILDING

  No

  Unauthorized

  Admittance

  said one sign. The sign on the other door looked like this:

  Inside the doors was a small office area with a desk and bookshelves and a couple of chairs. At the far end to the right was a shower.

  “This is a ‘shower-in’ facility,” said Dr. Thorne, finishing off his soda. “We can’t risk germs getting in.”

  Billy followed Dr. Thorne’s instructions. He left his tape recorder on the desk, then showered, dried off, and moved into a small room on the far side of the shower. Here he put on one of the pairs of coveralls that were hanging on hooks along the wall. The coveralls were adult size and far too large. Billy had to roll the cuffs up many times to keep from tripping. After that he put on a pair of rubber thongs, which he took from a cardboard box by the door. The thongs were large as well. They were hard to keep on his feet, but Billy didn’t mind. Soon he would see the black-footed ferrets.

  Billy was ready. He opened the door and stepped into a brightly lit room. Video monitors lined one wall. On each screen ferrets could be seen, sleeping, playing, resting, or eating in their individual nest boxes. Sitting at the video controls was the veterinarian in charge. She had dark hair and wore a red shirt. She turned around when she heard Billy come in. “Hi,” she said. “Come on in.”

  Billy moved farther into the room. Charts hung on the wall listing the names of the ferrets, their breeding schedules, and their progress. Scarface, Dexter, Cody, Rocky, Frannie, Cora, Rebel—colored marking pens listed them all.

  “Have a look,” said the veterinarian at the video controls.

  Billy approached the monitors.

  “Here’s a new litter,” said the veterinarian. The screen in front of her showed a mother and four babies.

  “How old are they?” asked Billy.

  “Three days,” said the veterinarian.

  Billy didn’t have his list, but the questions came easily. “How big were they when they were born?” he asked.

  “Half the size of my thumb,” said the veterinarian.

  A moment later Dr. Thorne came in. He showed Billy the sheets listing what each ferret ate, the isolation room for the sick ferrets, and the surgery room. On the far side of the surgery room was a door. In the door there was a window. “Look through there,” said Dr. Thorne.

  Billy stood on tiptoe and peered through the glass. There were five rows of cages with lights above. Suddenly, up from the tunnel in the cage nearest to the window came a black-footed ferret.

  “That’s Frannie,” said Dr. Thorne.

  She stared at Billy with sharp, inquiring eyes. She looked exactly like Zucchini.

  Later Billy and Dr. Thorne sat in the front office, drinking soda from cans. There had been no word from Miss Pickett. Billy’s father had not called. Billy had waited as long as he could.

  “What if somebody had one?” Billy spoke suddenly, blurting the question out.

  “Had what?” asked Dr. Thorne.

  “A black-footed ferret,” said Billy. His heart was beating fast.

  Dr. Thorne opened anoth
er can of soda. “It would be unlikely,” he said, pulling the metal ring, then pushing the aluminum tab back into the can. “There just aren’t any.”

  “What if somebody did?”

  “We’d isolate it. We’d study it to be sure it was healthy.”

  Billy could feel his heart thundering behind his ribs. “Would you release it?” he asked.

  Dr. Thorne shook his head. “We wouldn’t know where it came from. We couldn’t determine its effect on the breeding chain.”

  “Where would you put it?” asked Billy.

  “We’d probably send it to a zoo.”

  “Oh,” said Billy. Tears were beginning to press up behind his eyes. He took a deep breath. Then he spoke. “I might have one,” he said. The minute he said it, he wished he hadn’t. He felt his life would never be the same.

  Dr. Thorne took a long sip of soda. “It’s probably European,” he said. “Domestic ferrets sometimes look like black-footed ferrets.”

  “I know,” said Billy, “but mine has short hair and he’s soft and his tail is only black at the tip.”

  “Have you got a picture?”

  Billy took his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and took out his favorite picture. It was the one where he was holding Zucchini at the ASPCA.

  Dr. Thorne studied the picture. “Sure looks like one,” he said.

  Billy felt as if he couldn’t get enough air. Dr. Thorne looked up from the picture. “Where is he?” he asked.

  “At the Holiday Inn,” said Billy.

  “I’d like to take a look at him.”

  Billy felt numb.

  “Can you bring him by tomorrow?”

  “O.K.,” said Billy. He felt a giant wave of fear.

  Choice

  Billy was thankful to find Zucchini waiting for him in the tub when he returned to the hotel. Although Billy had left the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door, he had worried just the same that somehow he might have been let out.