How to Outfox Your Friends When You Don't Have a Clue (6 page)

Despite spending years away, salmon return to the rivers in which they were born to spawn.

—Animal Wisdom

CLICK.

Late that night, a sudden noise—a
loud
noise—jolted me out of sleep, making my heart hammer in my ears.

“Huh?” I lurched up in bed, blinking at the inky darkness of my room. Darwin's cage was still covered, so the noise hadn't come from him. Go figure something always has to wake you up when you're having an amazing dream of being at the Academy Awards with Ryan Gosling.

I tugged my comforter closer to my chin as something in the hallway clattered. What was going on out there? Was it Daz? Chills ran up my spine as I peeked at my bedside clock. The time—twelve forty-two in the morning—flashed in neon red.

Click.

There it was again.

Were we being
robbed
?

I snuck from my bed, stepping on the tips of my toes to avoid all the creaky spots in the floor. Opening my door the teensiest crack, I peered down the hallway to see if Daz's door was open. It wouldn't be the first time Daz got up to no good in the middle of the night.

But Daz's door was shut tightly. Shadows and light from the living room window swayed and twisted on the wall like ghosts.

I inhaled sharply, gripping my doorknob tighter. Should I go look? Or was that the first thing that a murderer would expect? How could I get my parents' attention without alerting whoever, or
whatever
, was inside?! In movies the first person to get axed is the idiot girl who goes out and asks who's there.

I didn't have time to decide.

“Ana!” A sharp voice cut through the darkness. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Mom appeared out of nowhere in the hallway, buttoning up the top button on her khaki work shirt.

“Mom!” I clutched my chest, checking that I still had a pulse. “What's going on? I heard noises…”

“Everything's okay,” she said in a rough voice. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Tufts of hair stuck out above her ears like whiskers. “I got a call from a friend. I need to go in the zoo for a bit.”

“What's wrong?” I asked. Mom never went into the zoo at night unless there was trouble. Usually
big
trouble, like if one of her animals is sick or hurt.

She shook her head. “I'm afraid there's been an accident,” she said. I could tell by the way she avoided my eyes that she was trying not to worry me, but that deep eleven wrinkled between her eyes gave her away. “An animal has been brought in. Hit by a car.”

“Oh no! Why are they calling you? Is it going to be okay?” I couldn't stop the string of questions from pouring out. Mom usually worked with the lions at the zoo, so unless it was an actual
lion
that had been hit by a car, why would they need her? And that didn't seem likely, seeing how we don't exactly live in Africa.

“I can catch you up later, hon.” She checked her watch anxiously. “I need to get there quickly. Where did I put my jacket?” She started down the hallway, rubbing her temples as she searched.

I bolted back into my bedroom and pulled on some jeans and a sweater. “Hang on,” I yipped. “I can come with you! Maybe I can help!” I hated the idea of some poor animal—whatever it was—lying there hurt. Already my throat felt tight, like someone was strangling me with sharp fingers.

Mom had found her jacket and was zipping it up. “It's very late, Ana,” she said. “You should go back to bed—you've got school tomorrow.” She picked up her keys and headed for the door.

“I'm already dressed! And you
know
there's no way I'll be able to get back to sleep. I can help!” I tried to look as mature as possible, channeling teenagery assertiveness into my voice.

It must have worked because Mom's shoulders slumped. “Fine,” she conceded. “Go tell your father you're coming with me and meet me in the car in exactly thirty seconds,” she said. “Dress warm and bring a scarf. It's freezing out there.”

A few minutes later, Mom and I were zipping away in her truck.

“So you don't know what it is? What got hit, I mean?” I asked, watching the trees fly by us in the white light of our headlights.

Mom was chewing her lip, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “I want you to make sure you stay back, well out of the way, okay? Wild animals can be unpredictable, especially when they're hurt,” she said, clearly distracted by her own thoughts. Her eyes swept back and forth, watching the road carefully as we drove. The highway looked eerily creepy this late at night. Like the start of practically every horror film Liv and I would sneakily watch on the Scream Channel when her parents weren't listening.

“I promise,” I said, squishing my chin deeper into my scarf. “But what is it?”

She glanced down quickly at the speedometer, drumming her fingers impatiently on the wheel. “A fox,” she said. “Someone hit a fox.”

Mallard ducks are known as “dabbling ducks.” To eat, they tip upside down in the water with their rumps in the air.

—Animal Wisdom

When we pulled into the veterinary center at the zoo, I shivered at how dark and empty everything looked. The sporadic swish of flashlights lit up the misty darkness as we parked the car.

“Is it going to be really bad?” I asked as I hopped out of the car. It was sort of surreal to think that the world stayed so busy when I was tucked away asleep in bed. Was every night so exciting?

Mom threw her keys in her pocket and wrapped an arm around me. “I'm not sure, hun. Cars can do a lot of damage.”

My mouth went dry. “But why you guys? I mean, aren't there people who do this that don't work at the zoo? Wildlife re…re-
somethings
?” My eyes stung under the fluorescent lights of the clinic as we stepped inside.

“Rehabbers, yes,” Mom said, shutting the door tight behind us.

Instantly, I spotted a steel table with something furry and red on it. Most of it was covered by a thick, blue blanket, but I could easily make out two black, furry paws sticking out the back. A fluffy white-tipped tail hung limply off the side of the table.

Chills tingled up my spine.

He was bigger than I'd expected.

“I'm good friends with the wildlife caretaker at the rehab center we're connected with, and she asked if I would help out tonight since she can't be here for an hour. We'll transfer the fox there once he's stabilized,” she explained. “I haven't worked with local animals in ages,” she said. “But I have to do
something
…” She trailed off.

A swell of pride surged through me as the group inside the clinic lit up to see Mom walk into the room. It can be easy to forget that Mom was more than the person who made horrible Kraft mac and cheese and washed our socks, but at times like this, when she was stepping up and being awesome and saving wild animals and stuff, it made my heart feel extra big and proud of her.

“Jane.” A man with a thick beard and a red flannel shirt reached out to shake her hand. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

Mom smiled. “No problem, Eli,” she said. “This is my daughter, Ana. She's going to stay out of the way and watch,” she said, for my ears only. I nodded solemnly. I had a feeling this wasn't exactly the time or place to whip out a camera to film everything for my documentary, but holy hedgehogs, I was dying to capture this.

His hand was warm compared to mine. “Nice to meet you, Ana,” he said. “You're the spitting image of your mom. Let's get to it?” He approached the table.

“You bet,” Mom said.

And instantly, she transformed.

Instead of being my mother, she turned into a machine. But I don't mean a robot machine. I mean a “let's save this animal” machine. She tossed her jacket onto the hanger on the wall with one arm as she turned on the faucet to scrub her hands with the other. Making sure I was several feet away, she lifted the blanket from the fox's face. Instead of her usual lighthearted, goofbally look, her eyes were fierce and focused.

A breath of awe escaped me as I watched the fox's side rise and fall. I'd seen plenty of animals up close, especially living at the zoo. But usually I was separated from them by thick glass and lots of fences, especially if they had fangs. But this? This was something else entirely. Even though it looked completely unconscious, with heavy pants coming from its open mouth, it still felt so
wild
. The thick fur on its back was rusty orange-red, with a white blaze peeking out in between its front legs.

“Foxes are incredibly adaptable.” Eli kept me company at the side of the room. “Lots of animals can't survive in populated areas, but foxes don't seem to care. They'll steal food from garbage cans just as soon as they will find their dinner in the wild.”

A ripple of excitement rushed through me. I'd known foxes lived around us, especially outside the city and in the mountains. But I never realized how
beautiful
they were, practically stalking through our own backyards with their sharp eyes and fluffy tails.

“Do they get hit by cars a lot?” I asked. My heart blipped with fear as the fox's tail flicked ever so slightly.

He frowned. “They're usually very good about staying hidden, but with more and more people developing in their natural habitat, we're noticing more incidents. Sometimes they find themselves on our properties, snooping through our garbage or getting cornered by dogs.” He frowned.

“Don't worry.” He nudged me, winking. “Your pets are safe.”

I grinned. “I have a loudmouth parrot,” I told him. “I'm pretty sure Darwin would talk so much the fox would
beg
us to take him back.” I watched closely as Mom leaned down to inspect each of the fox's black paws. She pressed gingerly on the center of each paw. His sharp claws extended slightly.

“Whoa.” I breathed.

Eli grinned with appreciation. “Pretty cool, huh?”

I nodded, my heart racing. Everything was so quiet, but the excited buzz in my head nearly made me bounce on the spot.
This was so cool.

We watched as Mom moved on to check out the fox's face and neck.

“His pupils are dilated,” she said, shining a flashlight at the fox's face. “I think he's got a concussion. Everything else but that leg looks okay. No signs yet of internal bleeding,” she said. “Miraculously,” she added. Her eyebrows lifted hopefully. “Let's make sure he's still not in any pain, clean out that cut, and stitch him up.”

I took a few steps forward, trying to spot the leg she was talking about. A thin trail of blood was seeping slowly onto the steel table, pooling from what looked like a three-inch gash on the fox's forearm. I cringed. It looked so painful. I rubbed my own arms nervously.

“You're going to give him stitches?” I gaped at her. “Yourself?”

Mom wrung her hands and began riffling through the drawers by the sink. “It needs to get done, and Alex, our tech, can help,” she said, gesturing to a woman with a dark bob of hair on her left. Alex gave me a small smile. For someone who routinely worked with big zoo animals, she looked remarkably teensy. What did she do when polar bears needed their shots?

“Don't worry, hun,” Alex assured me. “He'll be asleep and won't feel a thing. Your mom will be safe too,” she added, winking.

I held my breath as I watched them prepare the fox for his stitches. His eyes were covered again with a towel, and a bottle of clear liquid was squirted over its leg. I bit my lip as deep streaks of red ran off with the fluid, onto the towel placed on the floor. It was scary, but more than
anything
I wished I could be working beside her, helping to save this poor animal's life.

Tufts of black fur fell to the floor as Mom used a little electric trimmer to shave the fox's leg around the cut. My heart seemed to clench tighter and tighter. Seeing such a wild animal lying on a table completely knocked out seemed wrong. He should have been out, running through the forest, leaping over rocks, or chasing rabbits. What would it be like to be so free?

I crossed my fingers and wished that he would get better.

“You may not want to watch this part,” Mom said, as she set a tray of stitching supplies down. “He's not feeling any pain, but it's not going to be pretty.”

“It's okay, Mom,” I said. The truth was, despite being totally scary and horrible, it was also seriously
fascinating
, seeing how they did everything and how animals looked up close like this. Before today, I wasn't sure what I wanted to be when I grew up. Maybe a filmmaker like Grandpa?

But now I was wondering if maybe I could be a veterinarian.

Or both?

I imagined myself in green scrubs, bustling around a clinic like this. Saving animals, giving injections, getting to touch such amazing creatures.
Hopefully
not getting my head ripped off.

My fingernails dug into my palm as I watched Mom and Alex, stitching the raw pink skin of the fox's leg together. What started out looking horrific and dangerous turned into something neat, tidy, and clean.

Bad to good.

Sick to healthy.

Just like that.

When they finally wrapped the final strip of bright-blue dressing around his paw, I relaxed.

“Wow.” I breathed. “That was
amazing
.” I took another step closer.

Mom grinned, but there was a thin line of sweat that had started beading down her temple. “Do you want to touch him?” she asked. “He's out like a light.”

“They feel really cool,” Alex said, persuading me.

I didn't need much coaxing.

“Heck yes, I do,” I said.

I approached the table, feeling a well of heat build up inside of my chest. Even with Mom working with the lions at the zoo, I'd never been able to touch any of them, mainly because they're all adults and would likely tear my face off. And sure, I'd touched crocodiles, but they're so scaly. This was different. This was
wild
.

I leaned closer to the fox's face. His eyes were still half-open in his sleepy daze, and the warm, rusty-orange color looked like it was lined perfectly with black eyeliner. His nose was surrounded by a smattering of wiry, black whiskers.

“He's so beautiful,” I said, petting him lightly on the shoulder. His fur was thick and soft, warm against my skin. “Is he going to be okay?”

Alex nodded. “We were lucky they only clipped him with their car. It could have been a lot worse. Now that he's been examined and stitched up, we can take him to the rehabilitation center to heal. Then when they're sure he's okay”—she stroked his paw gently as she talked—“they'll release him.”

I sucked in a breath. “He'll be nearby! Mom, can I come and visit him? And can I go with them when he gets released?” I begged.

Beside me, Eli snickered. “Oh, she's your daughter all right,” he said.

Mom stretched her arms above her head, then bent down to touch her wriggling fingers to the floor. “I think we can figure all that out when it's not…” She paused, looking at her watch. Her eyes widened. “Two twenty-five in the morning,” she said. “You have to be in school soon, kiddo!”

Now, normally when I was stuck heading to school after a long night without sleep, I'd be pretty upset. But this time, I couldn't even pretend. Some nights are worth looking like a zombie the next morning, even though I knew Ashley wouldn't let me hear the end of it about the dark circles under my eyes.

But tonight? It was
definitely
a zombie-worthy night.

On the way home, I couldn't keep the smile from my face. Rolling down the window to feel the cold air on my face, I leaned against the side of my seat.

“What are you so giggly about over there?” Mom asked. It wasn't just me who was feeling extra jazzed—she was now tapping the steering wheel to the beat in her head when she asked.

“What you guys did with that fox,” I said. “It was amazing. I think it might be neat to do that…as a job, I mean.” I trailed my fingertips out of the window, letting the wind's cold chill start to numb them.

“You want to be a veterinarian?” she asked. Her eyes flicked over to me as she drove. “I think you'd be a great one. It's lots of schooling, but you've definitely got what it takes.”

I rolled the window back up, poking my fingers with my other hand as the feeling rushed back to them in hot waves. “I like the idea of taking something so…
broken
,” I said. “And fixing it. You turned that awful gash into something clean, and from there he can heal and live his life again, you know?”

She nodded. “I thought about being a veterinarian in school. My first few years were actually pre-vet.”

I tilted my head at her. I didn't know any of this. Why was it so hard to picture parents being
young
, without having kids? It was like opening a book and finding nothing but blank pages. It felt downright
wrong
. I wondered what Mom did for her thirteenth birthday.

“But there is more than one way to help save animals too,” she noted. “Your father and I like to think we save them by helping them live happy lives, studying them, and teaching others about them. Your grandfather does the same thing.” She grinned cheekily. “Only
he
does it in front of a worldwide audience on the big screen. He always was a drama queen.” She clicked her tongue.

“Hey,” I ventured. The idea had been sizzling away in my head since I'd met the fox, but now was the first time I'd had a chance to ask. “Do you think that maybe I could help them out?”

Mom blinked, still staring ahead at the road. “Who?”