Tiger Town (7 page)

“But you said you’d come and see the animals this morning,” Nick said as Mom drove way too fast up Mr. McCurdy’s bumpy driveway. I held on to the edge of the seat with both hands to keep from bouncing in the air.

“I wish I could, but I’m late for work.”

“But you promised,” Nick insisted.

“I know, but I wasn’t planning on sleeping in when I made that promise.”

“You wouldn’t have slept in if you hadn’t been out so late last night,” Nick snapped.

Mom hadn’t gotten in until a lot later than she’d originally thought. We’d been “tucked in” long before she came home.

She stopped the car behind one of the trucks. It was blocking her from driving any farther. “I’ve already apologized for that,” Mom said. “I didn’t mean to be so late last night, but I just lost track of the time.”

“I’m surprised you could even fit behind the wheel of this little car to drive us,” Nick said. “Any meal that lasted for four hours must have put a lot of weight on you. Is that why you were so late? Because you had to digest the food before you could drive home?”

“Nick, we did a lot more than eat.”

“What do you mean by that?” Nick demanded angrily.

“We talked. We talked for hours! I had no idea that the two of us had so much in common.”

“You have a lot in common with the acting chief?” Nick asked in amazement.

“Why does that surprise you so much?” she asked. “Lawyers and police officers have a lot in common.”

“The only thing I can see is that he arrests crooks, and you try to get them off. That hardly seems like a good thing to have in common,” Nick argued.

“Nick, give it a rest,” I said. “Come on, let’s get to work.” I started to get out of the car, stopped and glanced at Mom. “You’re only going to work for a few hours, right?”

“Just a half day. I’ll be back to see the animals in a few hours.”

“That’s great,” I said.

“Yeah, we’ll see you then, I guess,” Nick said. “Unless you run into somebody else you’ve got so much in common with that you forget we’re here.”

“Nicky, please don’t be like that,” Mom begged.

He slammed the car door and walked away without answering her.

“I’ll talk to him,” I offered. “He’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, Sarah.” She leaned across and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I can always count on you.”

“We’ll see you this afternoon, right?” I asked.

“No question.”

I was just getting out of the car when I hesitated. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Of course I like him! He can be a little bit annoying at times, as you well know, but he’s my son —”

“I didn’t mean Nick.”

“Oh, you mean Martin.”

I nodded.

“He does seem very nice.”

“Are you going to see him again?” I asked.

“I hope … but we’ll see. He said he’d call. I hope he does.”

“If he’s smart, he’ll call, and if he doesn’t, he’s stupid. You don’t want a stupid person to call, anyway,” I said. “So, either way, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Sarah, you’re such a sweetheart. I really appreciate all your support and encouragement, although at times it makes me feel a little guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Yes, guilty. Here I am, the mother, and you’re the one offering me words of encouragement. Shouldn’t I be the one helping you deal with insecurities and self-esteem issues around dating and boys and —”

“That’s okay,” I said, cutting her off before she could say anything else that might be even more embarrassing.

“You know, if you have any questions about boys, I’d be more than willing to listen —”

“I don’t have any questions. None. Period.”

“Sarah, it’s okay to ask questions. You’re a young lady, and it’s quite natural for you to be aware of boys.”

“I’m aware of them,” I said. “I’m aware that most of them are seriously stupid.”

My mother let out a big sigh. “Sarah, just because your father made some bad decisions in leaving us, doesn’t mean that most males are stupid.”

“I didn’t say that!” I protested.

“It’s okay to be mad at him.”

“I’m not mad at him!” I snapped. That was at least only half a lie. I wasn’t as mad at him as I had been when he left us — it had been over a year now. Time heals all wounds. I’d read that someplace. Of course, I’d have to live to be around two hundred years old before I was completely free of all that anger.

“It’s just I’ve noticed that sometimes you treat males like they’re little boys.”

“What males have you seen me around?” I asked.

“Well, sometimes you don’t treat Nick very well.”

“Nick
is
a little boy! My little brother! And he is stupid most of the time, like he’s being now!”

“It’s just that sometimes you have an attitude around males. Like you think they’re going to show bad judgement.”

“I don’t act like that!”

“You often did with your father.”

“That’s because he was showing bad judgement!”

“I thought you weren’t mad at him?” my mother said.

I took a deep breath. There was nothing worse than having a mother who was a lawyer — except having a mother who was a lawyer who was getting ready for a big trial. “I
was
mad at him, back then. Now I’m not. And I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

My mother looked as if she wanted to say more, but she didn’t. She was waiting for me to speak, and that wasn’t going to happen.

“I should get going now, I guess,” Mom said.

“Yeah … see you later.”

I climbed out and closed the door. Mom jockeyed the car back and forth a few times so she could turn around in the narrow lane behind the truck. It certainly was a big truck — wait — where was the second truck? Mom honked as she started up the lane, and I waved to her, then hurried off to the house. Not only did I want to talk to Nick, but I wanted to know who was gone and where he’d taken the truck.

I knocked on the door and then entered. Mr. McCurdy had told us to feel free to walk in, but it always felt better to announce I was coming. I found Nick sitting at the kitchen table with Calvin. The chimp was eating out of one of the Chinese food containers from last night. I’d made so much to go along with the takeout food that there was still some left over. Even though Calvin was using his fingers instead of utensils, I couldn’t help noticing that he was still less messy in his eating habits than my brother.

“Is Mr. McCurdy here?” I asked.

“I’m in here, Sarah,” he called from another room. I was always amazed at how well he could hear when he wanted to.

“What happened to the second truck?” I yelled out. “Did Vladimir take it some—”

“No need to holler, Sarah,” Mr. McCurdy said, walking into the room.

“Sorry. Did Vladimir take the truck?”

“Yep.”

“Where did he go to?”

“To the dump.”

“What’s he dropping off?”

“He’s not dropping off. He’s picking up.”

“At the dump?”

“Sure. We need lots of things to make the pens for the cats, and people dump off lots of good stuff,” Mr. McCurdy said.

“Stuff you can use to make a cage?”

“That’s where I got all the things to convert Buddha’s cattle stall into a cage.”

“I guess it’s good we’re here to help. What can we do?” I asked.

He turned to my brother. “Nick, are you through with the Chinese food?”

“We’re all done,” Nick said. Both he and Calvin were sitting at the table wearing empty takeout containers on their heads like hats. I certainly hoped they were finished.

“I want you to go down to the barn and get enough chickens for all the cats in the trailer.”

“I don’t know if I can carry that many,” Nick said.

“Bring the chimp. He could practically carry the whole freezer.”

Nick stood. “Come on, Calvin, let’s go.” The two of them started off.

“Good-bye, stupid boy!” Polly called out as they left the room.

I looked at the parrot sitting on top of the cupboards. “That wasn’t nice, Polly,” I said.

“Shut up, stupid girl,” Polly squawked.

Mr. McCurdy chuckled.

“Even if you think I’m stupid, Polly, I still think you’re smart,” I said. I’d decided I wasn’t going to get into any arguments with a parrot. No matter what that parrot said to me, I’d just compliment him back.

“Ugly girl,” Polly said.

“You’re a pretty bird, Polly.”

“Stupid, ugly girl,” Polly squawked.

Mr. McCurdy laughed. “Believe me, Sarah, it doesn’t make any more sense for you to reason with him than it does for Nick to argue with him. Just let him be, okay?”

“I was just trying to —”

Suddenly the back door blew open. “Help! Help!” Nick screamed as he ran down the hall, screeching to a halt in front of us. “The buffalo have gotten out!”

“What are you talking about?” Mr. McCurdy demanded.

“The buffalo have broken out of the pen!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! I just saw them walking up the lane as I was going to the trailer to feed the cats!”

“Come on,” Mr. McCurdy said as he headed for the door. Nick rushed down the hall past him, and I ran to keep up. We’d hardly gotten out the door when I caught sight of the buffalo. The three of them were behind the trailer, slowly ambling down the driveway. Calvin was sitting beside the trailer, a couple of feed buckets at his side.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“We’re going to get them back in their pen. But first we have to make sure none of the other animals escaped.”

“Like my girls!” I ran up the lane toward the pen. “Sarah! Samantha!” I yelled. The buffalo were on the lane on the other side of the pen, and as I rushed forward they startled and began racing away from me. I shouldn’t have run. And I shouldn’t have been yelling. They disappeared around a bend in the lane. Luckily it was a long driveway. There was still quite a distance to go before they’d reach the road.

“Nice going, Sarah,” Nick said, voicing what I already knew.

“I didn’t mean to scare them. I didn’t think … I was thinking about my girls.”

Mr. McCurdy walked up after us. “Forget the buffalo for now. We’ve got to repair the leak in the bottle before we try to put any more water into it.”

“What does that mean?” Nick asked.

“It means we’ve got to fix whatever way they got out to stop the others from leaving and to make sure the buffalo don’t get back out that way again after we’ve caught them,” Mr. McCurdy explained.

We followed him as he cut across the field toward the pen. At first I couldn’t see much — were any of the deer still inside the enclosure?

As we got closer, I caught sight of a deer at the far end among the trees. Then I saw another and another and another. I spotted both of my babies. I did a quick head count. All the deer were still in the pen. Thank goodness!

It became apparent how the buffalo had escaped. The place where they’d entered the pen — where the fence had been tied together — was open. The hole wasn’t big, but it was large enough to let out a buffalo. There were big black clumps of buffalo fur all along that section of the fence. The buffalo were still shedding parts of their thick winter coats.

“I figure the buffalo weren’t even trying to get out,” Mr. McCurdy said. “Probably just rubbing up against the fence ’cause they felt itchy and pushed so hard they snapped off the straps holding the fence together.

“We can fix that,” Nick said. “Put on a lot more straps to make it tighter. I can do it.”

“Not now.” Mr. McCurdy said. “We just need to put on a couple of straps, so the deer don’t get out, but we can open it up fast to get the buffalo back inside when we drive ’em back this way. Does that make sense?”

“A lot of sense,” Nick said. “Except for the part about driving them back. How exactly are we going to do that?”

“Shovels,” I said under my breath.

“Shovels?” Nick exclaimed. “We’re going to shovel them back?”

“No, of course not! But we’re going to use shovels and rakes. Remember at the camp how you waved around a rake so we could go into the pen and help the deer without the buffalo charging us?”

“Of course I remember,” Nick said.

We’d had to go into the pen with Vladimir when my little deer were being born because their mother was having trouble. We’d waved shovels in the air to keep the buffalo at the far end of the pen. If it had worked there, it should work here … shouldn’t it?

“Mr. McCurdy, your tools are all down in the barn, aren’t they?” I asked.

“Pretty much.”

“Nick, go and get a couple of shovels and a rake and come back fast,” I said.

“What will you two be doing?” Nick asked.

“We’ll fix the opening and then work our way down the road to find the buffalo. Then we’ll all drive them back,” Mr. McCurdy said.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Nick said.

As Nick hurried down the lane to the barn, Mr. McCurdy picked up a piece of metal from the ground — one of the straps that had popped off under the weight of the buffalo. He muscled the fence into place and began tying the two sections together. Bending down, I grabbed two more pieces of the strapping and handed them to him. He secured those in place, as well.

“Let’s go and do a little buffalo hunting.”

As we started up the lane, Calvin came over and joined us. He grabbed Mr. McCurdy’s hand.

“Where’s that brother of yours?” Mr. McCurdy demanded.

“He should be here soon.”

“He should be here now!” Mr. McCurdy snapped. “We don’t have time to wait for him. Let’s get going.”

We walked quickly along the lane, Calvin still holding on to Mr. McCurdy’s hand. If things hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed at the sight of the two of them.

We took the first bend in the lane, but the buffalo were nowhere to be seen. I scanned the fields, first one side and then the other. If they hadn’t left the driveway, they had to be farther along — closer to the road.

“The farther they get, the farther we have to drive them back,” Mr. McCurdy said. “I wish Vladimir was here.”

“So do I. He’s big enough that he could practically pick up the buffalo and carry them back.”

“But not all at once,” Mr. McCurdy said. “He’d have to make at least three separate trips to carry —”