Danny Pogue said, “The top of this box ain’t even locked.”
“So what’re you waiting for?” said his partner. “Pop goes the weasel.”
After the rat attack, the Whelper family rode in edgy silence until they arrived at the Amazing Kingdom of Thrills. They parked the red LeBaron in the Mr. Bump-a-Rump lot, Section Jellybean, and took the tram to the main gate. There they came upon a chaotic scene: police cars, an ambulance, TV trucks, news photographers. The ticket turnstiles were all blocked.
“Swell,” said Terry Whelper. “Beautiful.”
“Maybe they’re filming a movie,” his wife suggested. “Maybe it’s not real.”
But it was. The center of attention was a supremely tanned young man in a blue oxford shirt with a dark red club tie, loosened fashionably at the throat. Once all the TV lights were on, the man started to read from a typed sheet of paper. He said he was a spokesperson for the company.
“This is a message for all our friends and visitors to the Amazing Kingdom of Thrills,” the man began. “We deeply regret the incident that disturbed today’s Summerfest celebration. We are proud of our security arrangements here at the park, and proud of our safety record. Up until today, there had been—and I say this unequivocally—no serious crimes committed within our friendly gates.”
In the swell of the crowd, Terry Whelper felt his wife’s chin digging into his shoulder blade. “What do you suppose he’s talking about?” she said.
The man in the oxford shirt continued: “We believe there was no way to anticipate, much less prevent, what happened this afternoon in the Rare Animal Pavilion.”
Terry Whelper said, “This oughta be good.” A large woman wearing a damp cotton blouse and a Nikkormat around her neck turned and shot him a dirty look.
The man at the TV microphones was saying, “At approximately 2.15 p.m., two men entered the compound and attacked one of the wildlife exhibits with a sledgehammer, breaking the glass. One of our park employees courageously tried to stop the intruders, but was overpowered and beaten. The two men then grabbed a box of specimens from the exhibit arena and ran. In the confusion, the suspects managed to escape from the park, apparently by mingling with ordinary tourists aboard the Jungle Jerry Amazon Boat Cruise.”
Jason Whelper said, “Specimens? What kinda specimens?”
Jennifer announced, “I don’t want to go on the Jungle Jerry anymore.”
Terry Whelper told the children to be quiet and listen. The tanned man in the blue shirt was saying that the park employee who had so bravely tried to stop the crime was being rushed to the hospital for X-rays.
“Hey, look!” said Jason, pointing.
Somebody in an oversized polyester animal outfit was being loaded into the ambulance.
“That’s Robbie Raccoon!” cried Jennifer Whelper. “He must be the one who got hurt.”
All around them in the crowd, other tourist children began to whimper and sniffle at the sight of Robbie Raccoon on the stretcher. Jason swore he saw some blood on Robbie Raccoon’s nose.
“No, he’s going to be fine,” said Gerri Whelper. “See there, he’s waving at us!”
And, indeed, whoever was inside the Robbie Raccoon costume managed a weak salute to the crowd before the ambulance doors swung closed.
“It’s gotta be ninety-eight degrees out here,” marveled Terry Whelper. “You’d think they’d get the poor guy out of that raccoon getup.”
Terry Whelper’s wife whispered urgently to the nape of his neck, “Not in front of Jennifer. She thinks he’s real.”
“Oh, you’re kidding,” Terry said.
Under the TV lights, the tan young spokesperson finally was revealing what had been stolen in the daring robbery.
“As many of you know,” he said, “the Amazing Kingdom of Thrills is home to several endangered varieties of wildlife. Unfortunately, the animals that were stolen this afternoon are among the rarest, and most treasured, in our live-animal collection. In fact, they were believed to be the last two surviving specimens of the blue-tongued mango vole.” Here the handsome spokesman paused dramatically. Then: “The animals were being kept here in a specially climatized habitat, in the hope that they might breed and keep the species alive. Tragically, that dream came to an end this afternoon.”