by Isla Fisher
The cow’s ears flick backward and forward like the windshield wipers on a car. Slowly she starts walking toward Marge and then turns to me.
Oh my goodness. Why has this cow picked me? I don’t speak Greek. Marge passes me a sandwich and I hold it out to the cow, who is getting closer and closer. She has round curious eyes fringed with long eyelashes. My hand starts to shake a little as the cow lowers her head. I can feel hot breath and whiskers tickling my palm as she takes the sandwich inside her lips. She chews for a moment and then spits out some peanut butter.
“I told you, Jemima,” Jakey whispers, being careful not to startle her. “Even cows like only the bread!”
I can’t believe it! I am feeding a cow. I let my palm touch the velvety fur on her nose. It’s so soft.
Marge looks on proudly. Then she stands up and makes the clicking sound again. And would you believe that the cow starts following her? Marge, Jakey, and I lead the animal off the tracks and over to where the rest of the herd is standing by the trees.
I am puffed up with pride as I high-five Jakey and Marge. We did it!
When we’re back aboard, the rest of the passengers give us three cheers.
Harold looks very relieved. “Would you like to come and meet the driver?” he offers.
Jakey is so thrilled that he blows an underarm raspberry. He only does this when something is incredibly exciting, like the time he found the face paints after Mommy had hidden them.
Gerard, the driver, has a bushy mustache and seems delighted to have visitors. Particularly ones who have helped him keep his train on schedule.
He shakes our hands. “You must be the Cattle Herders who saved the day. Welcome!”
Jakey and I can’t believe how many buttons there are in the driver’s cab. Gerard shows us the brake and throttle controls. We see a big blue computer screen with control-indicator lights and another panel that reads FUEL SYSTEM. Jakey pulls the horn.
TOOT TOOT
It must all be too much for Marge, because while Gerard is explaining what everything does, she gives a big yawn.
“You know, Greek cows are very friendly by nature—not like Spanish cows,” Marge murmurs as she curls up in the corner. Her furry cap is still on, and her little legs are poking out as she promptly falls fast asleep.
Now, what happens next is the most amazing thing ever, even more amazing than all the incredible animals that we will get to see later. . . .
Finally, Jakey is allowed to hold the throttle!
I get a lump in my throat as I watch. His little tongue is poking out in concentration, and he looks so proud of himself! I can’t wait to tell Dad that Jakey drove the train.
Then, can you believe it, I get a turn too.
I can’t do a somersault yet or snap my fingers . . . but I, Jemima Button, the Cattle Herder, can drive a train!
Marge and the Zany Zoo Day
It’s me again, Jemima Button, and I have great news—we made it to the zoo!
On our long walk from the train station Marge sang a silly song that gave Jakey and me the giggles.
“There’s no place like the zoo.
You can ride on a kangaroo.
You can feed a crocodile too.
Just don’t step in animal poo.”
We have had such a fantastic day already, and now we get to see all our favorite animals!
“I can’t wait to see Oliver the Orangutan!”
My little brother is jumping over the cracks in the sidewalk.
Oliver the Orangutan is the reason Jakey loves the zoo. He’s so big and furry, and he sort of acts like a human. He and Jakey are best zoo friends: last time we came here, they had a dance-off. Whatever my brother did, the orangutan would copy him. Even the zookeeper was laughing. But when Jakey took a turn at following Oliver, it all went wrong.
The orangutan turned his bottom to everyone and started flinging his poop at the glass. That’s when Mommy decided it was time to leave. We haven’t been back to the zoo since, until today!
We join the line of people at the entrance. I don’t even mind waiting to get inside because I am so excited. Marge has let me look after the money for our tickets. I feel like such a big girl!
Did I tell you that I am doing a project in school on chameleons? They are a kind of lizard that can change color. I have brought all my colored pencils (because I don’t know which color the chameleon will be today), and I am going to sketch one.
The line is moving very slowly. “Look—I can see the giraffes from here!” I point at where two giraffes are looking over the zoo fence and chewing slowly, their long purple tongues slipping out to catch stray grass. Jakey and I watch them for a minute before I realize things have gone strangely quiet.
We turn back, and Marge is nowhere to be seen.
“MARGE?!” I call out.
“MARGE?!” Jakey repeats.
But there is no answer. Where has she gone? We walk through the line shouting loudly.
“MARGE! HERE, MARGE!” says Jakey.
“Have you lost your dog?” asks one lady very kindly.
“No,” I tell her, “we’ve lost our babysitter.”
“Have you seen her?” Jakey asks. “She’s about this tall”—he holds his hand up to my forehead—“and she has rainbow hair and she looks like an Oompa-Loompa from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”
The lady looks at us strangely, but just then I spy Marge way up ahead of us. She’s wearing sunglasses and crawling along the ground toward the ticket gates!
“Excuse me,” I cry as Jakey and I race to the front of the line. Ahead of us, Marge crawls between the legs of the man selling tickets, slides past the gates, and ducks behind a bush. She’s inside the zoo, and no one is stopping her!
We try to follow, but the man at the gate stops us.
“Is there a grown-up with you?” he asks. “Children can’t enter the zoo alone.”
‘Um, yes . . . she went, er, ahead of us,’ I stammer.
He doesn’t look as if he believes me, so I hand over the money that Marge gave us.
He studies us for a minute, tips his zoo-worker hat, and waves us through. He even gives us free tokens for animal food.
Phew, we are in!
Marge pops out from behind a bush.
“Marge, you didn’t pay for a ticket!” I scold her.
“I have a pass for the full year,” Marge says, slipping her shades off. She shows it to us proudly.
“Then why did you sneak in?” I ask.
“I’m not technically allowed back in the zoo after the last time,” Marge confesses in a whisper.
“What happened the last time?” Jakey’s eyes are as round as golf balls.
I am not quite sure I want to know the answer. Whatever it is, Mommy probably wouldn’t like it.
“Last time I was here,” Marge admits, “I accidentally opened some cages and set a few of the animals free. I released Grace the Warthog—she looked so glum! Then I freed Sam the Lion, or as I named him, Sad-Sam-Stuck-in-His-Cage.” Marge looks embarrassed. “But freedom has its price.
“Then the zookeepers organized a big search. Eventually we found Sam and Grace.
“So it was all absolutely hunky-dory, but the head zookeeper told me that I’d better not come back.”
Jakey looks as happy as can be. “Let’s let Oliver the Orangutan free so he can come home with us!” he begs.
That is the worst idea ever! I share a bedroom with Jake, and it already looks like a giant mess before an orangutan moves in.
We open up a map of the zoo. “Well, young explorers,” says Marge, “where shall we go first?”
“Let’s see Oliver the Orangutan,” Jakey cries.
“I think we should see the baby tigers first,” I suggest. Oliver is all the way at the bottom of the map, and there are amazing animals nearby that can’t be missed. Marge agrees, and off we go. I feel like skipping, so I do. Marge and Jakey join in, and we decide that’s how we will get around the zoo.
The tiger enclosure is massive, and it takes us a while to spot the babies. There are two of them, and a sign tells us that the cubs are now six months old.
“That’s about your age in tiger years, Jemima,” says Marge, watching them. “You know, I spent some time traveling with the circus years ago. They called me a tiger whisperer, because I speak tiger. And I’m very good at whispering.”
Marge shows us how to whisper to the tigers, but the cubs are busy playing together, chasing a rubber ball. They don’t seem to be very good at listening. Maybe we are not whispering about the right things. I try to think of interesting secrets to tell the baby tigers. Like that I used to believe that stuffed animals came alive when I went to sleep, or that getting new shoes made you run faster.
Our whispering gets louder and louder, and everyone at the tiger enclosure is staring at us except for the tigers. Then Marge starts hissing and growling at them! Now the cubs pay attention. They both freeze, whimper, and dart into their little cave. Marge has scared them away! The zookeeper looks angry as he heads toward us.
“Let’s move along,” says Marge in one last whisper.
We have barely continued our journey before my brother pipes up again.
“Now can we see Oliver the Orangutan?”
I tell him that we have a few other animals to see first and he has to learn patience. We say hi to the elephants and spy on the hippos having a bath. We wave at the zebras and show the flamingos how we can stand on one leg too.
When we arrive at the penguin habitat, we sit in a small crowd and watch a zookeeper throwing slimy fish to the penguins.
“Who wants to feed them some mackerel?” the zookeeper asks. All the children put their hands up, but Marge is the only adult who does.
“Ooooh, ooooh, pick me please, me, me!” Marge shouts.
“Are you a child or a grown-up?” the zookeeper asks.
“A grown-up! Please pick her,” Jakey says, jumping up and down.
The zookeeper hands Marge the bucket of fish. Marge picks up an extra-slimy one and holds it in the air. The penguins are flapping around excitedly.
Then Marge holds the fish up even higher above her head, opens her mouth, and drops the slippery fish straight in! I don’t know who gasps louder, the people or the penguins.
“Ah, I love mackerel,” says Marge. “So good for you too. All those healthy fish oils.”
The penguins and the people stare at her.
“Jakey, Jemima—fancy a treat?”
I shake my head firmly. A wet fish is not a treat—YUCK!
To everyone’s horror, Marge gulps down a few more fish. Then she carefully places two in her backpack for later and feeds the rest to the penguins, who still look a little annoyed with her.
“After that delicious lunch,” she tells Jake and me as we leave the penguin habitat, “it’s time for ice cream!”
While I am having a strawberry Creamsicle and Jakey is eating four scoops of mint chocolate chip, I look at the map again.
We’re very close to the petting zoo, which is one of the most fun things to do. Jakey and I use our tokens to buy food. Now that we are experienced Cattle Herders, we feel very sure of ourselves around the cows, ducks, sheep, and goats.
Marge perches on a rock in the middle of the enclosure, and all the animals surround us.
Jakey and I feed them and pet them. One of the cows is brown all over, and I can’t help wishing she could make chocolate milk instead of regular.
She keeps rubbing her head on my back. I want to show Marge, but she has her hands full.
She is holding a goat in her arms like a baby, covering it with kisses while singing a lullaby!
Then she kisses a duck, right on its beak. She does the same with all the sheep too, even the ones that run away. She just chases them down until she catches them and lays a giant smooch on their dusty, dirty sheep noses. Marge loves animals more than anyone I know!
As we are leaving the petting zoo, the keeper shows us where to wash our hands.
“You might want to wash your mouth, too,” he advises Marge.
“Now can we go to Oliver the Orangutan?” asks Jakey, hopping from foot to foot. “I’ve waited ages.”
“Soon, Jakey,” I tell him. I have found the reptile and insect house on the map, where I am pretty sure the chameleon lives. I point it out to Marge, and we all skip off.
It’s dark and damp in the reptile and insect house, and I have to blink a few times to see the displays. Jakey takes my hand, and we walk over to the first glass enclosure.
Right away Marge spots Katie the Chameleon. She’s bright green and scaly and clinging to a rock.
I take out my pencils to start drawing her. She’s so still and doesn’t move an inch. I wait for a more dramatic pose.
Jakey starts getting fidgety and moves on.
“Look in this window!” He gulps.
I race over to where he is.
It’s dark, but lit with a small orange light. There are some branches and rocks inside and a . . . furry-legged, big-headed tarantula spider!
“ARRGHH!” Marge shrieks. “HELP! SPIDER!”
She jumps onto my back and clings on like superglue.
“We are in the insect house—of course there are spiders!” I say. “Although actually, spiders are not insects. They are arachnids.” But Marge doesn’t seem to be listening, and everyone is staring at us. I am giving a grown-up a piggyback!
“It’s going to attack me!” Marge continues. She is surprisingly not very heavy for a grown-up.
“It’s behind the glass!” I try to calm her.
“Surely it could smash the glass with its pointy poisonous fangs!” Marge panics.
“That one isn’t even venomous,” I say, moving closer to read what’s written about it, forgetting Marge is now closer to the spider too.
“ARRGGHH!” Marge screams as loudly as she can. Then, as if the whole building is on fire, she leaps off my back and jumps over a baby in his stroller, landing on the floor with a bump. Still terrified, she springs up and dives through a whole class of schoolchildren, pushing their teacher aside and elbowing a grandfather on her way out.
When Jakey and I find her, she is still trembling in fear.
“When I lived in the palace, the king had every one of those beastly creepy-crawlies captured and banished to another kingdom.”
I am so surprised. I always imagined that Marge loved all creatures, even slugs.
“But we have to go back inside. I need to finish my drawing,” I say.
Before Marge can answer, a voice booms over the loudspeaker.
“Come one, come all to the Aviary Show,
happening right now in Parrot Cove!”
Marge claps her hands gleefully.
“I love parrots. I had one once called Lady Biscuit, but she fell in love with a badger and eloped.”
“When are we going to see Oliver the Orangutan?” Jakey whines.
“Next, I promise,” I tell my little brother. “I still have to finish my school project.”
We check the zoo map and skip our way to Parrot Cove. We take a seat in the front. Birds the color of Marge’s hair are swooshing through the air back and forth. They are so beautiful!
A hawk flaps past, collects a ring, and returns it.
A parrot chatters away.
A rainbow lorikeet sails over our heads.
We all cheer.
Once the show is over, Marge removes a bag of seed from her backpack and pours it into a little pile on her hat.
“Stay quiet and don’t move,” she tells us, and sure enough, all the birds start flying around, and some of them are landing on Marge’s head and snacking. It’s wonderful to see them so close, particularly the snowy owl, who looks like a little old man with reading glasses on.
“Now can we go to Oliver the Orangutan?” Jakey nags.
“Now can we go to Oliver the Orangutan?” a red parrot repeats.
“Now can we go to Oliver the Oranguta
n?” squawks another yellow parrot.
Soon a green one chimes in and then a blue and they are all chorusing:
“NOW CAN WE GO TO OLIVER THE ORANGUTAN?”
It is really starting to annoy me. I feel like it’s the only sentence I have heard all day. I am just about to tell Jakey off when I see something white and sticky whizzing by me. It lands on Marge’s hat!
It takes me a second to realize what is happening as another dollop falls down and lands with a PLOP on my shoulder. Oh no! The birds are pooping. Another load drops with a SPLAT on Jakey’s head.
“EWWW, RUN!” I yell.
“Getting pooped on is good luck!” Marge puffs as we make a dash to the bathroom. “Chester my meerkat once pooped on my foot during a game of hide-and-seek, and sure enough, I was never found!”
We clean ourselves up with wet wipes, and then at last we skip off to see Oliver the Orangutan. Even though he is driving me crazy, I know how much my little brother has been looking forward to this, so I don’t want anything to spoil it.
But would you believe what happens next? As we get close, we notice that the whole area where Oliver lives is empty!
He’s not on the rope swing, he’s not lying on his netting hammock, and he is not up his favorite tree. Poor Jakey starts to panic.
I suddenly see a big sign and read it aloud.
Jakey’s face is crumpling. My little brother has two rules:
1. He always wears his boots in summer and sandals in the winter.
2. He only goes to the zoo to see Oliver the Orangutan.
Jakey’s shoulders sag and his bottom lip is wobbling. I feel so bad for him. He is starting to cry, and I can tell he is going to howl. A whole class of children has arrived and seems just as disappointed.
