The Menagerie #2

by Tui T. Sutherland

  There was a giant thump from inside Logan’s closet.

  Dad swung the door back open. “What was that?”

  “Nothing!” Logan said quickly. “Must have been Purrsimmon.”

  The cat chose that moment to saunter delicately around the corner of the bed, sit down on the floor, and lick her paws. She gave Logan an arch look that said, Don’t you drag me into this. Especially after you deprived me of rooster chasing and made me spend the whole night with a bird just out of reach, you monster.

  Dad stared at the cat for a moment. Then, shaking his head, he finally closed the door and went back down the hall to his own room.

  Logan flung his covers off. His clock said 6:50 a.m.

  There was another muffled thump from inside his closet. It sounded like someone trying to get dressed in a cramped space in the dark.

  “Marco?” Logan said. “Hey. I don’t know if you know my name, but it’s Logan, from school. We were worried that something in the woods might eat you, so I brought you back to my house.”

  His closet door creaked open and Marco’s disheveled head poked out. His dark hair stuck up in tufts like wild feathers.

  They stared at each other for a minute.

  “That’s what I always say,” Marco blurted. “I mean, who would take a defenseless rooster to the woods, right? I keep saying, what if Carlos eats me, and Mom is all, but he would never, and then I’m like, you don’t know, you’re, like, a porcupine, and he’s, like, a bear, and he doesn’t like me when we’re people, so why risk your kids eating each other, like, can’t I just stay in my room and be a rooster in there? What’s the worst I could do? Poop on my sheets? Guess what, Elena already did that, and she wasn’t even a squirrel at the time, she was just potty training and mad at me, which by the way, is the worst, don’t ever live with a three-year-old.”

  He took a deep breath. “Oh my God, I’m starving. I’m missing the pancake breakfast right now. Do you think they’re worried? I don’t; I bet they’re eating bacon and laughing about how I’m probably lost in the woods because roosters have no sense of direction, like, we shouldn’t need a sense of direction, guys, because we don’t belong in the woods, hello, and none of them are thinking, hey, maybe something ate Marco, even though that is obviously what happened. I’m starving. Can we have pancakes? It’s like the only good part of the whole thing, so I should at least get pancakes. With a side order of corn, if you have any, please.”

  “I—um, I don’t know,” Logan said. “But we should stay in here until my dad leaves. I have no idea how to explain you.”

  Marco toppled out of the closet and lay on his back on the carpet, groaning at the ceiling. “Okay. But you might have to explain my corpse instead, just to warn you. When will he be gone?”

  “Soon, I think,” Logan said. He could hear his dad clattering around in the kitchen, which usually meant he’d be out the door before Logan. “Did you say something about your mom? And a bear?”

  “Not fair,” Marco moaned. “I’m too weak from hunger to keep secrets.”

  “I think the rooster’s out of the bag,” Logan joked.

  “Ha-ha!” Marco chortled. “I get it.”

  “Logan!” his dad called.

  “Back in the closet!” Logan whispered. “Quick!”

  Marco flopped sideways like it was too hard to move.

  “Hey,” Dad called again, his voice coming closer. “If you’re ready to leave in five minutes, I can drive you to school.”

  Logan stepped over Marco and stuck his head into the hallway. “No thanks,” he called back. “I’ll take my bike. I might go hang out with Blue again after school.”

  His dad laughed. “All right, but if his parents get sick of you, you can bring him back here anytime. I’ll be home for dinner tonight, if you want to invite him over.”

  “Um,” Logan said. “Okay, maybe.”

  “If I promise not to cook?”

  “I’ll ask. Bye, Dad.” Logan was about to duck back into his room when the doorbell rang.

  He ran, but Dad got there first.

  Zoe and Blue were standing on the front steps. Logan reached the door just in time to see his dad’s eyes widen when he spotted Zoe.

  “Oh, hey, guys,” Logan said. “Dad, this is Blue and—”

  “Zoe,” said his dad. “Zoe Kahn.”

  TEN

  There was a really unsettling pause. Zoe stared back at Mr. Wilde, sure she’d never seen him before. How did he know her name?

  “You, uh—you’ve met Zoe?” Logan said.

  “I’ve seen your parents around town,” said Mr. Wilde. Zoe noticed that although his face was calm, his hand was gripping the door tightly.

  “We were just going to bike to school together,” said Logan, shifting from foot to foot.

  “Right,” said Mr. Wilde. “Come on in. Logan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Zoe followed Blue into the living room and perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch.

  “I knew we should have waited till his car was gone,” Blue said, flopping into one of the easy chairs.

  “Well, you could have said so,” Zoe pointed out. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mr. Wilde might recognize her. Or that he’d act so weird if he did. Maybe she was being paranoid, though. Maybe he’d just met her parents somewhere.

  The front door opened and closed, and Logan came back into the living room with faint worry lines creasing his forehead.

  “Is he gone?” Zoe asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “I think so,” Logan said. “He wanted to know how I met you.”

  “What did you say?” If Mr. Wilde knew about Logan’s mom’s job, maybe she’d told him about the Kahns and their Menagerie, even though it was strictly against SNAPA policy to talk to outsiders about any of the locations.

  “I acted like a guy,” Logan said. “You know—‘Daaaaad! She’s just a friend! Don’t be WEEEEEIRD about it!’”

  Zoe felt herself blushing. Sure, it was a good idea for Logan to act as if his dad thought they were dating, but it still made her feel kind of funny inside.

  “And when he asked again, I just said we met because of Blue.”

  “Freaky,” offered Blue. “He definitely knows something is up with you, Zoe.”

  “Well, when he feels like telling me the truth about Mom, I’ll tell him the truth about you,” said Logan. “I mean, if you’re okay with that—I’ll check with you first, I promise. Marco!” he called. “You can come out now.”

  There was no answer.

  Logan bolted into his room, so Zoe jumped up and followed him.

  Marco was hanging halfway out the window with his foot tangled in the hedges outside. Purrsimmon sat on Logan’s desk chair, hissing.

  “What are you doing?” Zoe asked.

  “I’m escaping!” Marco yelled. He flung himself out the window, hollering in pain as he thrashed through the hedge and sprawled onto the lawn.

  Zoe and Logan ran back through the house, startling Blue into following them out the front door and around to where Marco was still lying on the grass, almost nose to nose with a gray squirrel. The squirrel put its paws on its squirrelly hips and chattered angrily at him.

  “Hey, I tried,” said Marco. “You saw me try. Now go tell Mom and Dad I’m fine.”

  The squirrel glared at him. Zoe was used to seeing human expressions on mythical creatures, but on an ordinary-looking squirrel, it was pretty unsettling.

  Marco sat up and gestured at the squirrel. “Zoe, Logan, Blue, this is my sister Elena.”

  “EEEEEEEEEEEEEKEEKEEEEK,” the squirrel shrilled in outrage.

  “And since she’s here, that probably means my brother Carlos is, too.” Marco squinted around at the neighboring houses. “Anyone see a bear?”

  “AARRBAKAKABAKRRABAK!” the squirrel shouted.

  “If you want to yell at me properly, you’ll have to turn back into a person first,” Marco hollered back. “I know what you’re yapping about, but they knew before t
hey even found me, so don’t blame me.”

  “ECKECK ECKECK ARRK!”

  “I have no idea how! Now I’m going to school, so go away!”

  The squirrel stamped off as huffily as a squirrel could. Zoe saw it dart behind the next house, and then a small black bear shambled out and ran toward town with the squirrel on its head, clinging to its ears.

  “I am so confused,” said Logan.

  “A whole family of werecreatures,” Zoe guessed. “I’ve read about those. It’s genetic, right? One werecreature married another?”

  “Yeah,” said Marco. “It’s your classic story of raccoon meets porcupine, raccoon marries porcupine, followed by a white picket fence and lots of cool werechildren, plus one not-so-cool wererooster.” He stood up and bowed, brushing leaves off his sweater. “So, wait, how did you know I was going to turn into something?”

  Zoe and Blue exchanged glances. This was the tricky part—getting answers out of Marco without giving too much away.

  “We’re kind of . . . related to some mythical-creature Trackers,” Zoe tried.

  “I didn’t know those were real,” Marco said. “Not the kind that might throw me in a cage, though, right? Man, Mom and Dad would be so mad, and at the same time, they’d be like, well, of course it was Marco who got caught; that’s so typical of him.”

  “You’re safe with us, don’t worry,” said Logan.

  “Yeah, you guys don’t have an ‘evil government facility’ vibe.” Marco grinned. “Hey, so, if I’m walking to school from here, I gotta start now. If I’m late again, Coach said I’d have to miss the next game.”

  “We’ll walk with you,” Zoe said. “We’ve got some more questions.” Like: Does anyone in your family have a taste for geese? And: Care to come exonerate a dragon?

  “We can stop at the bakery on the way,” Marco suggested, his face brightening. He patted his pockets. “And someone can buy me a doughnut. I think that’s a fair price for rooster-napping me.”

  Logan ran inside to change and get his backpack. The others waited in awkward silence. Marco reached up and tried to flatten his hair, unsuccessfully.

  “Hey,” Blue said to Marco. “Did you finish the science homework?”

  “I tried, but I fell asleep. Being a rooster three nights in a row—being a terrified rooster stuck in the woods all night long—is surprisingly tiring.”

  “Why were you in the woods?” Zoe asked as Logan rolled his bike up to them. She and Blue got their bikes and they all set off walking toward the center of town.

  “It’s my parents’ idea.” Marco shrugged. “They figure we’re less likely to get caught if we’re all in the woods when we shift. And they think it’s good practice for us to be animals in our natural environment instead of locking ourselves in cages for the full moon nights. Of course, the woods is the right place for my brothers and sisters, but not so much for me. If Carlos doesn’t accidentally eat me one of these days, I’m sure something else will.”

  “Are you going to get in trouble for telling us all this?” Zoe asked anxiously. She knew how her parents would react if she spilled all the Menagerie’s secrets to a bunch of random kids at school.

  “It’s a relief to talk to someone about it,” said Marco. “Besides, I figure you’ll tell me all your dark secrets in return, right?” He grinned and punched Blue’s shoulder.

  “Sure,” said Blue. “I’m a merman.”

  “Blue!” Zoe yelled. “Not approved!”

  Marco stopped and goggled at Blue. “You’re serious,” he said. “Like, if I throw water on you, suddenly a fish tail will appear?”

  Zoe knew that myth was one of the few things that could irritate Blue. The blond boy frowned.

  “Come on, think about that for a minute,” he said. “Could we have survived in secret for hundreds of years if you could just spill a glass of water on me and suddenly OMG A FISH TAIL IN THE CAFETERIA? Good grief. No, we control whether we have tails or legs at any given moment.”

  “Yeah, I thought I remembered you at a pool party once,” Marco said. “Guess that explains it. It’s like us werefolk; most of the time we can pick if we’re human or animal. Except from midnight to dawn during the full moon, which is just awful. I mean, why would anyone ever choose to be a rooster, right? So unfair. Victor’s an owl and Nina’s a freaking moose, but no, I got stuck with rooster.”

  “So you were born that way,” said Zoe. “You can’t turn other people by biting them, right? Not like some werewolves.”

  “Right. What are you?” Marco asked. “Wait, let me guess. Vampire?”

  Blue laughed and Zoe smacked him.

  “No, I’m human, and so is Logan. We’re just . . . involved with mythical creatures. So why aren’t you guys registered with SNAMHP?”

  “Snamp?” Marco echoed in bewilderment.

  “SNAMHP,” Zoe said again. “Don’t you know there’s a government agency for Mostly Human Protection?”

  “Called Snamp?” said Marco. “Huh. No. Mom and Dad think the government would lock us up if they caught us.”

  “Not at all,” Blue said. “I mean, as long as you go through the right channels, they’re pretty flexible about Mostly Human arrangements.”

  “They just like to know you’re out here,” said Zoe. “All werecreatures are supposed to be registered, and in exchange there are benefits, like supernatural health care, since you can’t go to a regular hospital, and discounts at were-run clothing stores. Also dental, I think.”

  “Crazy,” Marco said. “A whole secret agency for that stuff? How cool would that job be? Like, dealing with werewolves and vampires and mermaids all the time?”

  “I think there’s a lot of paperwork involved,” Zoe said. “And I have to tell you, mermaids can be a huge pain in the tail.”

  “Hey,” Blue objected mildly. “Well, okay.”

  “We’re looking for an unregistered werewolf,” Logan explained to Marco. “We think there might be one eating some of the sheep around here.”

  Some sheep . . . and one very valuable and annoying goose, Zoe thought. Oh, I hope Marco can lead us to Pelly’s murderer. She had to admit to herself that he didn’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who hung out with devious, creature-eating werewolves. Nor could she imagine him as the savior of the Menagerie.

  “Not in my family,” Marco said with a grand wave of his arms. “No wolves. Sorry. And Carlos isn’t a big enough bear to eat sheep yet, plus he’d be totally grounded for a year if he did.”

  “Wait,” Logan said, counting on his fingers. “Marco the rooster. Elena the squirrel. The bear, the owl, the moose, and your parents. That’s seven.”

  “That’s all of us,” said Marco.

  Logan looked at Zoe, and she felt a shiver down her spine as she realized what he’d remembered.

  “Last night . . . ,” Logan said. “Keiko said there were eight werecreatures in the forest.”

  ELEVEN

  Logan knew there were more important things to think about—catching Pelly’s murderer, defending Scratch, figuring out where Mom went—but he couldn’t help stopping for a moment as they walked through the school doors to think, Hey. I just walked to school with people. I have someone to sit with at lunch. I have friends. Logan half expected someone to come up and say, “Oh, there’s been a mistake. These friends aren’t for you,” and take them all away.

  “Gah,” said Marco, poking through his books in his locker. “My homework and stuff is in Dad’s car. Does anyone have a phone I could borrow?”

  Logan handed over his cell phone.

  “MOM!” Marco yelled into it over the noise of kids shouting and banging through the halls. “I NEED MY BACKPACK!” He paused. “NO! NOBODY’S DOING EXPERIMENTS ON ME!” Pause. “I’M NOT TRAPPED IN A GOVERNMENT LAB, MA! I’M IN SCHOOL!” Pause. “MAAAAAA! CAN I PLEASE JUST HAVE MY MATH HOMEWORK?” Pause. “Okay, thanks. See you soon.” He hung up and tossed the phone back to Logan. “Thanks, Logan. Gotta meet my mom outside. So I should tell her to look up
Snarp?” he asked Zoe.

  “S-N-A-M-H-P,” she spelled out. “Here, I’ll give you their website and the password to get in.” She tore a sheet of paper out of her notebook, scribbled on it for a moment, and passed it to him. “Guard that with your life, Marco. It would be very bad if the wrong people found out about the agency, although I’m sure they have ways of convincing people it’s a joke.”

  “No worries,” said Marco. “I only lose critically important pieces of paper, like, once a week or so, so odds are good I’ll make it to the parking lot with this.”

  Blue shook his head. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Hi, Blue!” Jasmin trilled as she sauntered by.

  Blue turned a bright, interesting shade of red, waved vaguely at the ceiling, and hurried after Marco.

  “Oh, no,” Zoe said, leaning against Logan’s locker. “Now he’s going to be all weird around her. I can’t believe you told him she likes him.”

  “I thought he knew,” Logan protested. He glanced up the hall and saw the school librarian, Sameera Lahiri, wrestling with a poster outside the library. “Hey,” he said, lowering his voice. “Did you tell your dad about Miss Sameera?” He and Zoe and Blue had seen her with a griffin feather on Saturday and then overheard her having a disturbing conversation, but they hadn’t had a moment to talk about it since.

  “No,” Zoe said. “I thought I’d deal with her myself.”

  As usual, Miss Sameera was wearing several bright colors: a long orange skirt with silver paisley embroidery swirls on it, plus a vibrant blue-and-purple top with bell sleeves. Her wispy dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She wrestled with the tape as if it had deeply insulted her ancestors, and Logan wondered why she looked so stressed.

  Was it anything to do with the phone call they’d overheard?

  He tried to remember exactly what she’d said. She’d been trying to convince someone that she’d seen griffin cubs here in Xanadu. He remembered her saying “I was right” and “this town is crawling with mythical creatures.”

  “Wait,” he said. “What do you mean, ‘deal with her’?”