by Stuart Gibbs
Li Ping’s first day on display was the Friday before Memorial Day weekend. After being delivered from Flora Hancock’s estate, the panda had spent a month in quarantine, and during that time, Pete Thwacker and the PR department had whipped panda fans everywhere into a frenzy. Advance ticket sales for FunJungle had soared. Every hotel within thirty miles was booked solid for the entire summer. The Texas legislature had given serious thought to declaring Li Ping’s debut a state holiday.
It might as well have been. Half my class called in sick so they could go see the panda. So did a good number of teachers. And ours wasn’t the only school where that happened. Many businesses reported a severe lack of employees as well. Everyone headed for FunJungle—if they weren’t already there: Thousands of people had camped out at the front gates Thursday night so they could be the first in line on Friday. Only half an hour after FunJungle opened, it broke its attendance record.
When Summer and I finally arrived at the park after school, guests were still streaming through the gates, even though it was nearly a hundred degrees. (Central Texas was experiencing record heat, but J.J. wasn’t concerned. The hotter it got, the more seven-dollar sodas he’d sell.)
Summer insisted we go directly to Panda Palace. In the past, on a broiling day like that, she would usually have detoured into the Emporium to grab ice cream bars for us, but since our discussion, she’d stopped grabbing food without paying for it. (I had never told her about Marge’s plan to use the “evidence” of shoplifting against her; the mere threat of bad publicity had worked well enough.) And if there had ever been a day to skip the lines, that was it. In the heat, the air-conditioned Emporium was mobbed. But Summer barely noticed. She was too determined to see Li Ping.
Despite our connections, we hadn’t been able to see the panda while she was quarantined. Even J.J. hadn’t been able to. The best we could do was watch her on a closed-circuit camera, but that wasn’t much better than people could do on the Internet. Being so close to Li Ping for so long and not getting to see her in person had been kind of torturous, so we’d been awfully excited for this day. And yet, while I’d expected lots of people to come for the panda’s debut, I hadn’t expected a horde like this.
“Panda Palace is going to be crazy crowded,” I warned Summer. “Maybe we should wait until after closing to visit.”
“No way,” she replied. “I’ve waited long enough. We’re seeing that panda.”
I couldn’t really argue for anything else to do in the meantime. We’d both seen every exhibit at FunJungle a thousand times, and we couldn’t go swim with the dolphins. Dolphin Adventure had reopened to the public—but it was booked solid for the next few months.
Once Summer and I had determined how the dolphins had learned to steal bathing suits, the trainers had quickly taught the dolphins not to do it, then reinforced that behavior. Summer had kept her promise to Xavier and Violet; she had convinced J.J. that they’d meant no harm by sneaking into the dolphin tank and shouldn’t be prosecuted. Instead, a different punishment had been worked out for them: Each had to do forty hours of volunteer service at FunJungle—although it was up to them to decide where to do it.
Violet had opted for Dolphin Adventure, where she was helping tend the animals. She was working hard but loving it. (She got to swim with them a lot as part of her job.) Not surprisingly, Xavier had chosen Panda Palace. Starting that afternoon, he would be a “junior panda ambassador” at the exhibit, answering guests’ questions and dispensing fascinating panda facts. Over the previous weeks, he had spent plenty of time with the panda keepers, learning as much as he could from them. Neither Xavier nor Violet seemed to regard their service as much of a punishment at all.
As Summer and I neared Panda Palace, we spotted Xavier heading that way as well. Despite the heat, he was wearing a tuxedo again, although this one fit him much better than the one he’d worn the day Li Ping had been kidnapped. “Hey guys!” he called to us. “Have you seen Li Ping yet?”
“We’re on our way,” Summer said.
“If we can get through the lines,” I added.
“Don’t worry about that,” Xavier said smugly. “I’m a panda ambassador. You won’t have to wait in line if you’re with me.”
“I never have to wait in lines,” Summer reminded him. “Seeing as my family owns this place and all.”
“Nice tux,” I said.
“Like it?” Xavier spun around to model it for us. “Someone in the costume department here found it for me and said I could have it! Cool, huh?”
Summer and I shared a look. In truth, it looked ridiculous, no matter how well it fit him, but we didn’t say anything.
We topped a small rise and Panda Palace came into view. The sheer size of the crowd stopped us in our tracks. A massive line filled the entire plaza in front of the exhibit, then disappeared in the direction of Monkey Mountain.
“Jeez,” Summer gasped. “That must be two hours long.”
“More,” Xavier corrected. “I’ve been told it’s nearly three.”
I noticed Emily Sun standing in the shade of a jacaranda tree nearby, fanning herself with a FunJungle map. She seemed pleased by the enormous crowd that had turned up to see Li Ping. In fact, she was even wearing a set of Li Ping ears herself. I didn’t point her out to Summer, though. Since J.J. had recovered Li Ping, his business interests in China hadn’t suffered, but Summer was still annoyed at Emily for threatening her father in the first place.
My friends and I headed on toward Panda Palace. As we got closer, I spotted Marge O’Malley patrolling the line. After I’d stood up for her, she hadn’t been fired—although J.J. and Hoenekker both felt she couldn’t work in security anymore. She had caused way too many problems in that department. However, J.J. had cleverly invented another position for Marge that sounded like she was still in security, even though she wasn’t: director of crowd control operations. The job was perfect for her. It took away the things that had made her a menace—her Taser, her golf cart, her ability to arrest people—but still allowed her to do what she liked to do most: act like an authority and boss people around. At the moment, she was strutting along and barking orders like a drill sergeant. “Once inside the exhibit, no food or drink is allowed. Please deposit all unconsumed food and drinks in the proper receptacles by the entrance. And be aware that, once inside the exhibit, there is to be no flash photography, banging on the glass, or any other pestering of the panda. Violation of any of these regulations will result in your being forcibly removed from the premises.”
A velvet rope between two pylons prevented the guests at the front of the line from entering Panda Palace until Marge let them through. A family of four stood just behind the rope; both parents looked exhausted from their prolonged wait, while their two young children—who were covered from head to toe in FunJungle panda merchandise—bounced up and down with excitement, thrilled they were finally about to see Li Ping.
Summer and Xavier headed directly for the entrance, right in front of all the people in line.
“Wait,” I warned them. “We probably shouldn’t cut right in front of everyone.”
“But I want to see Li Ping,” Summer told me, “and there’s no way I’m waiting in that huge long line.” Then she took my hand and dragged me toward the entrance.
As I’d feared, the father at the velvet rope completely flipped out. “Hey!” he shouted at us. “There’s a line! Go on back and wait like everyone else!”
Xavier flashed his official FunJungle badge. “I don’t have to wait,” he said. “I work here.”
“Yeah, right,” the father snapped. “You’re just a kid.”
“I’m an official junior panda ambassador,” Xavier announced proudly, pointing to the job title on his badge.
The father didn’t seem to believe this, but before he could argue any further, Marge hustled over. “What seems to be the problem here, folks?”
“These troublemakers are trying to jump the line,” the father explained.
> The mother, meanwhile, looked very embarrassed about her husband’s behavior. “Just let them go,” she said. “They’re only kids.”
“We have kids!” the father exclaimed. “They waited for three hours like good citizens! I’m not about to let some rule-breakers waltz right in before us!”
A month before, Marge probably would have leaped at the chance to bust me for line-jumping. Or anything else she could think of. While Xavier really was a junior panda ambassador and Summer was the owner’s daughter, I didn’t have any clout to slip through ahead of everyone else. But today Marge turned her attention to the father and put an arm around me. “Sir, this boy is no rule-breaker. In fact, there wouldn’t even be a panda here right now if it wasn’t for him. When Li Ping was stolen, Teddy here figured out who’d taken her.”
The two children looked at me, wide-eyed in amazement, as did a few other people in line. However, the father didn’t buy it. “Him?” he scoffed. “Then how come I didn’t hear anything about it on the news?”
Marge gave the guy the type of withering stare she used to reserve for me. “You really think the government’s going to admit that a kid figured out who stole the panda when none of their agents could? The FBI would still be grilling the wrong people if Teddy hadn’t come along.”
Xavier gaped at Marge, shocked she was giving me praise like this. I was a bit surprised myself, even though I knew the reason behind it. Molly O’Malley, who’d been so dismissive and disdainful of us, had received a ton of bad press as the agent who botched the big panda case. Marge had been thrilled to see her sister screw up in such a huge way—although I’d never expected her to give me credit for helping make it happen. And in public, no less.
The father backed down, cowed by Marge’s defense of me—and probably aware that his wife would be very annoyed with him if he pushed things further. As it was, the wife seemed very impressed by what Marge had said about me. “Did you hear that?” she asked her children. “This young boy helped rescue the panda!”
“Wow!” exclaimed her son.
“Thanks for saving Li Ping!” said her daughter.
Summer teasingly threw her arms around me and cooed, “My hero!”
The children giggled at this.
“Just hang tight a few more minutes,” Xavier told them. “Soon you’re going to see one of the most amazing animals on earth!”
Marge ushered us toward the entrance. “Right this way, kids.”
Xavier and Summer headed into the exhibit. But before I could follow them, Marge grabbed my arm and held me back. “Hold on there, Teddy.”
For a moment, I thought she might reveal that I really was in trouble after all. Instead, she pulled me aside and whispered, “I never got to say it, but . . . thank you. I owe you big for how you stood up for me with the top brass.”
“Well, you did save my life with the polar bear.”
“Yeah, but I was also a major pain-in-the-rear to you all last year. You could’ve gotten rid of me for good, but you looked out for me instead. And you helped me show up my sister. I saw her at our parents’ house last weekend. The FBI’s really peeved at her because of this whole panda fiasco. They’re relocating her to some department way out in the sticks. It’s a major demotion. You should’ve seen how devastated she was! It was hilarious!” Marge broke into laughter thinking about it.
Summer peeked back out of Panda Palace, wondering what was holding me up. I signaled I’d be right there and that she could go on ahead. She eagerly slipped back inside.
I returned my attention to Marge. “If you really owe me big, then I need a favor.”
“Name it.”
“You know those recordings you have of Summer shoplifting stuff? Destroy them.”
Marge frowned, as though she wasn’t pleased I’d thought of this. But then, she sighed and gave in. “Done.”
“Really?”
“One thing you should know about me, Theodore. I’m good on my word.” Marge gave me a pat on the back and an honest-to-god smile.
The sounds of a ruckus came from the line. Some teenagers were trying to cut. Marge vigilantly turned that way. “Looks like we’ve got a situation,” she announced. “Don’t worry, folks. I’ve got this.” Then she hiked up her belt and strode over to handle the trouble.
I hurried inside Panda Palace.
Li Ping was in the first viewing area, although I couldn’t see her right away. Even though Marge was limiting the number of visitors inside Panda Palace, the room was still packed. People were stacked four deep against the glass, oohing and aahing with delight.
Xavier had already taken his place at a small podium, where he was professionally relating information to the crowd. “All of you are very lucky,” he was saying, “as Li Ping is wide-awake and in a playful mood right now.”
I spotted Summer at the glass, riveted to the panda, and wove my way through the crowd toward her.
“She’s perfectly happy in there all by herself,” Xavier went on. “In the wild, pandas are extremely solitary, only meeting up with other pandas for a few days a year, if that. So when our male panda arrives here, the two of them won’t share an enclosure. Instead, Shen Ju will be on display in the exhibit next door.”
I squeezed in beside Summer.
In the exhibit, Li Ping was playing with a large plastic ball, rolling it around with her front paws.
“Look at her,” Summer said. “Isn’t she the cutest thing ever?”
Li Ping’s ball got away and rolled right in front of us. The panda bounded over to it, so we were only inches away from her on the other side of the glass, close enough to see right into her dark brown eyes.
“She’s beautiful,” I agreed.
Summer turned to me, her smile shifting to a look of concern. “What was all that about with Marge?”
“She just wanted to thank me again for helping keep her job.”
Summer kept staring at me shrewdly, as her father often did, like she knew there was something more to the story. “She wasn’t upset at you?”
“Nope.”
“So everything’s cool?”
“Yeah,” I said, taking her hand. Standing there with my girlfriend, watching one of the most amazing animals on earth, it didn’t seem that life could get much better. “Everything’s perfect.”
Li Ping Is Not the Only Panda in Danger!
The giant panda is the most endangered member of the bear family. There are fewer than 2,500 of them alive on earth.
Thankfully, over the past few decades, the Chinese government has been extremely aggressive with panda conservation. According to the World Wildlife Fund, the most recent National Giant Panda Survey revealed a 16.8 percent increase in wild panda numbers over the past decade (up to 1,864 estimated individuals), as well as an 11.8 percent increase in the panda’s geographic range, with the addition of twenty-seven new panda reserves.
But even though these numbers are encouraging, giant pandas still need our help. Hunting and habitat loss are still threats to pandas who live outside conservation areas. Furthermore, when you protect giant panda habitats, you also end up protecting many other, less well-known (but equally fascinating) animals that share those places: creatures like the takin, the serow, the red panda, and the awesomely named golden snub-nosed monkey.
If you want to help, a good place to start is with the World Wildlife Fund (whose mascot is a panda) at www.worldwildlife.org. Or you could go to www.panda.org.cn to learn about the Chengdu Panda Research Base in China and how you can support their work there.
The World Wildlife Fund also does a lot of work to confront the serious issue of animal trafficking. As I indicated in this book, the illegal wildlife trade is decimating animal populations all over the world—and the United States is one of the top importers. Every year, traffickers sell thousands of live animals that have been illegally taken from the wild—as well as parts of larger animals, which have been killed for them, like ivory from elephant tusks or rhino horns. You can help by refus
ing to buy any products made from endangered animals—and if you’re in the market for an exotic pet, make sure you’re buying one that has been bred or obtained legally. (I know you’re probably not buying a panda or a tiger, but even buying a bird, reptile, or fish that has been illegally taken from its habitat can have drastic effects on those species.) Ask dealers if they can provide paperwork to prove where their animals have come from—or see if their company has a sustainability plan. If they don’t, you might want to take your business elsewhere.
If you’re concerned about trafficking and want to know what you can do to help stop it, visit www.worldwildlife.org/pages/stop-wildlife-crime or www.traffic.org.
Finally, here’s a list of other organizations that do great work protecting endangered species and habitats:
The Nature Conservancy: nature.org
The Center for Biological Diversity: biologicaldiversity.org
Greenpeace: greenpeace.org
Thanks!
Stuart Gibbs
Acknowledgments
I am indebted to many people for their help with researching this book.
Rachelle Marcon at the San Diego Zoo gave me a wonderful behind-the-scenes tour of the zoo and the panda exhibit, while Julie Breslow, Larry Hanauer, and C.J. Hanauer did the same for me at the National Zoo in Washington, DC. On the dolphin front, the fine folks at DolphinQuest on the Big Island of Hawaii introduced me to a few of these wonderful animals and answered all my questions about them. My intern, Emma Soren, dug up a lot of fascinating and incredibly useful panda facts for me. Greg Lesser offered great insight into how jurisdiction might work in a case like this. Giavanna Grein, who specializes in fighting illegal animal trafficking at the WWF, didn’t merely advise me; she also brought me in to meet with a lot of incredibly impressive people in the WWF’s animal crimes division. I offer huge thanks to Ben Freitas, Bas Huijbregts, Nilanga Jayasinghe, John Probert, Rachel Kramer, Crawford Allan, Robin Sawyer, and panda conservation specialist Karen Baragona for their insight—and for the amazing work they do every day to protect wildlife.
