I scramble over to Ivan, and he gives me a look that says, You’re the best, Bob.

“I thought you were a goner,” I say, licking some banana goo off his chin.

“Me too.” Ivan seems a little dazed. His eyelashes are white with dust. “What happened, anyway?”

“Tornado.”

“Ruby okay? Kinyani? Julia? George?”

“Haven’t seen Julia or George yet. Kinyani’s over there, carrying on.”

A paramedic holding a box of medical equipment approaches us nervously.

“I’ve got this!” calls a woman I recognize as one of the park veterinarians. The paramedic looks happy to step aside.

The vet gently but firmly pushes me out of the way. “I’ll be back,” I tell Ivan.

I run to Kinyani. “He’s good, totally good.” The look of joy in her eyes makes me want to give her an affectionate nose nudge.

Almost.

From there I join Ruby and Maya. “I was so scared, Bob!” Ruby whispers.

“Me too,” I admit. “Me too. But he’s fine. I promise.”

We watch a pair of otters dart past, chased by a guy with a net. One of the firefighters who’d been clearing debris yells, “We’re clear here. No sign of other victims.”

Sara closes her eyes and I can smell her relieved tears.

While Maya listens to her walkie-talkie, trying to take stock of the damage to the park, Officer Williams’s police radio hisses and crackles with new problems, new flooding, new dire predictions.

“Copy that,” she says into her radio. Even with the chaos and noise, I’m close enough to the radio to catch the tinny sound of frantic barking.

“We’ve got a unit reporting the animal shelter down the street’s flooding,” Officer Williams says. “Also we’ve got trailer park damage on Twelfth Street, an oak down at Nelson Avenue blocking traffic, and a big rig overturned near the fairgrounds. And that’s just for starters.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice something airborne. It’s graceful and bold, like a huge, wingless bird.

The crowd gasps.

It’s Kimu.

He lands on the hood of Officer Williams’s squad car. His eyes are glazed, his coat wet and shimmering.

“We’ve got a 10-91 here,” Officer Williams whispers into her receiver. “Confirmed. Seems there’s a, uh, wolf on top of my vehicle.”

Slowly she reaches for the pistol on her hip. “Please advise.”

shots fired

Several officers raise their guns. The tranquilizer dart guy takes aim too.

“No!” Maya yells. “No guns!”

Kimu blinks, eyes darting right and left, then leaps off the car with such grace and speed it’s like he owns the wind.

Two shots ring out. Silence follows.

“Was he hit?” someone asks.

Maya closes her eyes. “I sure hope not.”

“I sure hope so,” someone else says.

jungle

As I watched that leap, watched Kimu fly, I didn’t know what to think.