Look out for numero uno. That’s my motto for a reason. It’s kept me alive this long.

then, to my surprise

Some fool blurts, “I’ll go find him.”

And apparently it’s me.

yay

“We’ll go,” Ivan says.

“Yay! More swimming!” Ruby cries.

“It’s not safe, Ruby,” I say. “You have to stay here. I promised Akello I’d watch out for you.”

“I made it this far,” she says, donning her elephant pout face.

Ivan and I sigh. It’s exhausting, all this responsibility, this worry. This love.

“Promise to stay close?” I ask.

She holds up her trunk. “Elephant’s honor.”

“’Cause Akello will make dog soup outa me if anything happens to you.”

“Yuck!” Ruby giggles. “Hey, did you know I can almost do a somersault in the water, Uncle Bob?”

Ivan taps politely on the door to the doughnut shop. But even a polite knock from a gorilla sounds like a visit from a wrecking ball.

The door opens a crack.

I think two or three people may have fainted, but we can’t stay to find out.

I hop onto Ivan’s shoulder, and the three of us head off. I glance behind me to see Boss standing on the pavement, watching us.

In the darkness and rain I can’t read her eyes. But I’d like to think there’s hope in them.

traffic stop

We slog up a slight hill and round a corner. The traffic lights are out, and nobody seems to be on the streets—that is, until we cut through a stand of palm trees and come across some police officers in a slow-moving squad car, its blue and red lights circling.

“Attention,” one of the officers announces over a loudspeaker. “This area is under a mandatory evacuation order. Do not—”

The announcement stops, and so does the car.

“Uh-oh,” says Ruby.

“I think they spotted us,” I say.

“We’re kind of hard to miss,” Ivan points out.

The car moves closer, so close that I can see dropped jaws and bulging eyes.

The car brakes to a stop. The driver’s side door flies open and one of the officers jumps out.

The other officer, a skinny young guy, follows suit, but he looks annoyed. “What are you doing?” he says. “Don’t be a hero! We coulda stayed in the car where it’s safe.”

“I am looking,” says the driver into her radio receiver, “at a gorilla and an elephant, and the gorilla has a tiny dog on his shoulder, and no, I have not been drinking.”

“They said the park got hit by the tornado,” says the skinny officer, carefully aiming his pistol.

“We can’t exactly shoot a gorilla,” the driver says, and I like the way she’s thinking.

“Try me.”

“What’s his crime, exactly?”

“Jaywalking?”