A Valiant Quest for the Misfit Menagerie

by Jacqueline Resnick

“You end up with a thirty-two percent profit margin,” Chrysanthemum offered.

  Mr. Toddle lapsed into a stunned silence. “Th-that’s correct,” he stammered. “But how did you know that?”

  “If you paid any attention at all, you would know I’m very good in math,” Chrysanthemum said primly. “So, does thirty-two percent mean they can stay?”

  Mr. Toddle looked at Mrs. Toddle.

  Mrs. Toddle looked at Smalls.

  Smalls stretched out his tongue, licking Mrs. Toddle smack on the nose.

  “I suppose if your father thinks it’s a good idea . . .” Mrs. Toddle said.

  Mr. Toddle scratched his bald, pointy head. “Who can say no to a thirty-two percent profit margin?” He slung an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. When he looked down at her, he was almost, nearly smiling. “As long as you do the bookkeeping.”

  On the other side of the fence, Smalls sat back on his haunches. The sun was warm on his back and the clovers were soft under his paws, and everywhere he looked, there were his friends, Rigby cloud watching and Wombat burrowing and Tilda grooming. And, of course, over in the yellow cottage, Bertie.

  And suddenly he could see it: how one day would bleed into another and leaves would fall and grow and fall again, and all along, they’d be together. They’d be home. He closed his eyes, letting the sound of laughter and cheers wrap around him, warm him to his bones. I’m going to like it here, he thought.

  A Different Bertie

  One Month Later

  Bertie dropped down at his usual table in the cafeteria, the clatter of trays and the roar of voices swirling around him. He’d been at Tophorn Elementary for one month now, and still he got a chill every time he walked into that room, with its high ceiling and blindingly orange tables. There were so many kids, talking, laughing, joking, and he was one of them—not serving them cola or cleaning up after their messes, but right there, smack in the middle of it all.

  “Have I told you how lucky you are to have Miss Shandelman?” Susan lowered herself into the seat across from him, her green-brown eyes shining.

  Bertie grinned at her. “Only about a thousand times.”

  “Well make it a thousand and one. Mrs. Tompkins is officially the bane of my existence.”

  Bertie pegged a grape at her. “Is she worse than Claude?”

  Susan tossed the grape back, allowing herself a tiny smirk as it bounced off his forehead. “Nope,” she admitted. It was their new favorite mantra. When school got hard or exhausting, or Mrs. Tompkins made Susan want to climb into one of Wombat’s burrows and never come out: Was it worse than Claude? The answer was always, always no.

  Bertie rooted around in his new green backpack. Rigby had gone nuts when he’d seen the color of it, throwing his front paws on Bertie’s shoulders so he could get a better look. “I made another one,” he told Susan, tossing her his latest creation.

  It was a wooden carving of a sun bear, his long tongue curling up to catch a four-leaf clover. Every detail was stunningly lifelike, as if someone had taken the real Smalls and shrunk him down to toy size. Susan studied the figure, admiring its smooth finish and clean edges, the way its warm brown eyes seemed to gaze right into hers. “It’s your best one yet,” she declared.

  “Is that Smalls?” Chrysanthemum cooed. She snatched the carving out of Susan’s hands as she plopped down next to her. “So cute! You guys will not believe what Smalls did this morning on my way out of the house . . .” She trailed off as something caught her eye a few tables over. “Ah ha!” she crowed. “Don’t look now, but Lauren Nicola is definitely checking out our table! I think she’s totally jealous that I’m sitting with the new boy and Miss-Queen-of-the-School—ahem, I mean Susan,” she corrected hastily.

  Bertie exchanged an amused look with Susan. Just go with it, he mouthed.

  “There are definitely some eye daggers coming from their table,” Susan agreed, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing.

  “I knew it!” Chrysanthemum looked triumphant as she took a bite of her broccoli-cauliflower–brussels sprout sandwich. “Oh, I meant to ask you guys. Did you see this?” She pulled a slightly crumpled sheet of newspaper out of her purple backpack. “It was in this morning’s paper.”

  Misfit Menagerie Ignites Craze! the headline read.

  Bertie’s eyes widened as he stared at it. It reminded him of the first article he’d read about the Menagerie, back before he’d ever met Smalls. That felt like a different lifetime. A different Bertie. He scooted closer to his friends. As they all bent their heads in to read—Chrysanthemum giggling and Susan’s blond hair brushing the table—it occurred to Bertie that maybe, in a way, it was.

  Misfit Menagerie

  Ignites Craze!

  * * *

  What began as an unlikely friendship between a boy and four unusual animals has turned into a nationwide craze. Bertie Candor first met the Misfit Menagerie, as they’re known, while working at the now defunct Most Magnificent Traveling Circus. Now, he and the animals—Smalls the sun bear, Rigby the Komondor dog, Tilda the Angora rabbit, and Wombat the hairy-nosed wombat—all live on the family compound outside Toddle’s Toy Emporium.

  “My grandfather and I just started carving the animals for fun,” Bertie recounted.

  “We had no idea what a frenzy they would induce,” his grandfather, Toddle’s resident carver, Stanley Candor, agreed. “Now we’re just doing everything we can to keep up with demand!”

  And what a demand it is. Every day, an estimated three to five hundred people visit the Menagerie in their home—an expansive field of four-leaf clovers. “Business has tripled since we adopted the Menagerie,” Aurelius Toddle, owner of Toddle’s Toy Emporium, told the Daily Sun. “Kids love our store more than ever!”

  His daughter, Chrysanthemum, has a theory of her own. “It’s the animals they love.”

  She has the sales data to back it up. Carvings of the Menagerie are flying off the shelf faster than any toy since the infamous “hotcake.” It’s keeping the grandfather-grandson team of Stan and Bertie busier than they could have dreamed.

  “I carve in my sleep,” Bertie joked to the Daily Sun.

  But neither grandfather nor grandson seems to mind. Stanley put it best: “We’re doing what we love, and we get to do it together.” And judging by the lines winding out the door at Toddle’s Toy Emporium, the nation is happy they are.

  Acknowledgments

  I’ve been so lucky to work with an incredible editorial team on the Menagerie series. Ben Schrank, Anne Heltzel, Gillian Levinson, and the rest of Razorbill: Thank you for being such smart, insightful, and inspiring editors. I’ve had so much fun working on these books with you!

  Josh Adams & Adams Literary: Your faith in my writing—and in me—helped me get off the ground, and I am forever grateful for that.

  Nate Resnick: Over a decade later and it keeps getting better. Thank you for being my steady ground in a thrashing world, my safety net when I fear I might fall, my gourmet chef when I would otherwise be eating cereal, my constant pep-talker and first-reader and biggest fan, and, above all, my very best friend. I’m grateful to Cornell for many things, but most of all because it gave me you.

  Susan, Fred, & Lauren Greenberg: I’ll say it every time. I could never have done this without you. Thank you for being behind me from the beginning, for cheering when I need cheering and commiserating when I need commiserating, for being my support system and my own personal PR team and my outlet after fifteen-hour days of writing. I hit the jackpot when it comes to families, and I know it.

  Maple the dog: Such great company when I’m glued to my computer for days on end, and such great inspiration when I’m writing about the friendship between humans and animals. You deserve extra bones!

  Rachel & Randy Wachtel: You’ve put up with my crazy schedule and been there to celebrate every step of the way. I don’t know what I’d do without your excited texts while you read (Rachel) and your fingernail-spitting jokes (Randy). Thank you for sur
passing everything I could have dreamed a sister and brother-in-law could be.

  Tyler & Cole Wachtel: Knowing I could read these books with you one day made writing them even more special. Only a few more years!

  Sid & Minna Resnick: I love that I got to share this whole process with you. Who’s able to say that they actually enjoy their in-laws? I’m so glad I’m someone who can.

  Monica, Eric, Kyla, & Daniel Allon: Your enthusiasm and your gifts and your presence have always meant so much to me. This year wouldn’t have been the same without you.

  Jake and Sam Greenberg: If I could have hand-picked cousins, I would have chosen you. Thank you for always being so excited and supportive, and making everything more fun.

  Sean Groman: You already feel like family, but by the time this book comes out, it will be official—and I can’t wait!

  Popi: I can’t tell you how much I value your unfailing support and constant interest in my work over the years.

  The Paper Lantern Lit team (Lexa Hillyer, Lauren Oliver, Rhoda Belleza, Angela Velez, Adam Silvera!): I’m a better writer for having worked with you all. This might not be a Paper Lantern book, but your support of me and my writing has transcended Truth or Dare, and I hope you know how much I appreciate that.

  Anne Heltzel: What would my writing world be without you?? Not just as editor, but as friend, early reader, and of course, writing date cohort. This series is as much you as it is me, and that’s my favorite thing about it.

  Lucy & Theresa Nguyen: You’ve always been there for me (even if it meant traveling to Ithaca or Manhattan!) so it didn’t surprise me that you were here for this part of my life, too. But it DID make me grateful! You’re those rare kind of friends—ones I can both dream with and count on—and I’m so lucky to have you.

  Stacey Schor: You are the only person who wrote up a list of questions for me after reading the first Misfit Menagerie, and I will never forget that! Your enthusiasm and friendship throughout this process have been amazing.

  Meryl Lozano: I can’t imagine any part of my life without you, especially not this one. Thank you for reading every book, being front and center at every event, and scrounging up kids for my trivia game. You put the BFF in BFFAT.

  Finally, to all my other friends: I’ve been so lucky to have you support me—and my books—so whole-heartedly. Caren Gradwohl, Rachel DeHaven, Ali Black, Steph Surkin, Rebecca Crawford, Alison Karmelek, Joanne Barken, Sarah Rosen, Amanda Freedman, Kim O’Hara, Lauren Benjamin, Lindsey Blumenthal, Stacy Lessen, Lauren Lower, Jocelyn Davies, Rebecca Alimena, Myra Oneglia, Maria Gomez, and all the Cornell guys (& wives!), thank you for coming out to book events and listening to all the ups and downs and reading books written for kids just because I wrote them.