RARE BEASTS (11 page)

Since everyone was fixated on the fight, no one remained around the Exotic Animal Emporium to notice the hungry Mondopillar make its move. Its flexibility made it inevitable that the Mondopillar would eventually wriggle out of its bonds. Slowly, it began to move down the length of the cart, smelling delicious things with its tongue.

The other animals were still leashed in place, and from the Mondopillar’s perspective, all the puppies and kitties and bunnies were laid out like an all-youcan-eat buffet. The giant snake slithered forward, and the helpless little creatures in its path could do nothing to save themselves.

The Mondopillar first reached the miniature Hamble, the itty-bitty kitty painted three shades of purple with a shiny red nose and pointy antlers on its head. The Mondopillar opened its great jaws wide and swallowed the Hamble in one big gulp, continuing toward the roly-poly feathered hamster the twins had named a Druffle.

Then, just as the oversized eating machine was about to inhale a second savory morsel, the Mondopillar froze in its track.

The Hamble’s antlers had caught in the Mondopillar’s throat. All kinds of loud, nasty wheezes and coughs came from the python as it choked and gagged.

Now, Edgar and Ellen were yelling at the top of their lungs as they fought, and the roar of the surrounding crowd was very loud indeed, but the vile sounds made by the distressed snake were even louder. Everyone turned to see the source of the fearsome racket, the fight temporarily forgotten.

As the crowd watched, the Mondopillar coiled its body, raising itself high in the air and thrashing wildly about. Its head swayed from side to side and then reared back, and suddenly, with one tremendous
“grrahhkk!”
the snake dislodged the Hamble trapped in its throat.

Tufts of purple fur; a round, red ball; and splinters from what had been antlers arched through the air
in a spray of snake spittle, followed by a slimy kitty with mismatched eyes that looked awfully glad to be outside of the python.

“Chauncey!” screamed Donald Bogginer when he recognized his pet. Donald picked up the kitty and hugged him tightly.

“These aren’t valuable exotic animals! They’re our pets!”

The children swarmed over Engine Number 7. They grabbed water hoses and sprayed the cart and its contents from top to bottom. All the dyes, paints, and decorations washed away, and an exuberant cheer erupted from the crowd as the animals were revealed. The boys and girls were thrilled to see their pets, but not as happy as their pets were to see them!

While some of the children ran to the cart, a few remained on the truck. They increased the water pressure and took aim at the causes of their misery.

The water hit the twins full on.

“Glug!”
yelped Edgar.

“Blarp!”
gargled Ellen.

The blast knocked the pair completely off their feet, and turned the ground beneath them into a swampy mess.

One by one, the children gathered up their pets from the table, laughing and cuddling as the animals licked and nuzzled them. And one by one, they stomped past Edgar and Ellen, who wallowed helplessly in the mud pit.

“
This
is for Freckles!” said Stanley Mulligan, thumbing his nose.

“And
this
is for Blumpers!” said little Annie Krump, yanking Ellen’s pigtail as she splashed by.

“And
this
is for our Mr. Poo Poo!” declared Peter Pickens, kicking mud as he marched past carrying the tail end of the reptile. Penny, holding its front end, paused a moment as if to consider allowing the snake to make a meal of its captors. As the Pickens children carried their pet away, Mr. Poo Poo stuck his long, slithering tongue out at the twins.

And to make matters even more miserable, Von Barlow’s jar of fire ants had shattered in the chaos. They scurried through the slop and all over Edgar and Ellen, taking tiny, painful chomps out of them as they went.

“Ow!”
Edgar yelped at each bite.

“You and your stupid fire ants!” cried Ellen, slapping herself in a fruitless effort to combat the insects. “Are you happy now?
Ouch!
”

After every child reclaimed his or her pet, after every child tromped past the mud-soaked twins, some with their executive parents in tow, after the firefighters rolled up their fire hose and drove Lucky Engine Number 7 out of sight, and after the crestfallen Dr. Felix Von Barlow wandered away down the street, Edgar and Ellen were left alone with the ants in the cold, foul mud.

Covered with bruises, scratches, and bites, and dripping with oozing filth and mangled holiday decorations, Edgar and Ellen trudged back home and through the front door without bothering to wipe their feet. They didn’t wipe their hands, arms, or legs, either, so as they slunk through the dank house they left trails of mud and dirty glitter in their wake.

“We sure learned a valuable lesson today, Brother,” said Ellen, yawning.

“You’re right, Sister,” said Edgar. “The next time we disguise a bunch of stolen animals, we’ll make sure not to use water-based paints and cheap glue— that stuff washes right off!”

Exhausted, Edgar and Ellen slowly climbed the dark stairs. Halfway up the third flight, an eerie feeling crept over them. They turned and there, cloaked in the shadows of the stairwell, Heimertz stood silently, his toothy smile flashing in the darkness. The twins scurried up the steps.

Near the top, they passed the den where Pet was again perched atop the wingback chair, intently watching a rerun of the very same nature show that had given them the idea for the Exotic Animal

Emporium in the first place. One glance at the program caused Edgar and Ellen to grimace and look away.

“
Arrgh
, animals! I
hate
animals, they’re more trouble than they’re worth!” moaned Ellen. “If we never ever see another puppy, kitty, bunny, or hamster, it’ll be too soon!”

“And don’t forget giant Burmese pythons,” said Edgar, “or rather,
do
forget giant Burmese pythons!”

One last song escaped from them as they slunk along, with all the glee of a funeral dirge:

“Our plans, our scams—for naught we sought
Exotic beasts that no one bought.
A wasted day—we still have not
A dime to spend on future plots.
But all those goody-goodies will
Soon find themselves more miserable
When we return with coffers full
And schemes more diabolical.
Just wait, just wait, for back we’ll be
To cause more pain and misery.”

With that, the twins marched past the den, up the stairs, and through the trapdoor to bed, leaving a filthy trail of footprints and handprints behind them.

Pet was left alone in the den, the light from the television casting deep shadows in the dark room. Once again, Edgar and Ellen hadn’t stayed long enough to hear Professor Paul’s final words on exotic animals:

“This odd creature is possibly the rarest animal on the planet, and sightings of the elusive beast are few and far between. It is not known for sure how many still live out there in the wild, and this scarcity makes them easily the most valuable exotic animals in the world.”

On the snowy black-and-white screen, the camera zoomed in on a tattered page from an old zoology book, showcasing a creature that looked very much like a dark, matted, greasy hairball with one yellowish eye.

Pet descended from the chair. Its dark, matted, greasy hairball of a body shambled off to bed, its single yellowish eye casting a faint glow as it disappeared into the shadows.