Sure, I'd been there before. And yes, Cassie's mom was head veterinarian, so I could get in anytime I wanted. But who cared? Any field trip was better than sitting at a desk, zoning out at a blackboard. Right? I mean, when I was younger, we went on a field trip to a factory that made bread and Twinkies. They didn't even give us any Twinkles, but did I care? No. Because being out, moving around, seeing new stuff, is always better than hard desk chairs.
Cassie didn't agree.
"My mom's going to give a little presentation on endangered species,"
Cassie said as we sauntered along with the rest of the class. "A presentation. To us."
We were in a big enclosed exhibit area. It was like a huge glass dome over all these different habitats. We were walking along at a slight downhill angle on a winding pathway between leopards and tortoises and Komodo dragons and pythons - all the animals that couldn't be exposed to cold weather.
I was enjoying myself, sipping a Mountain Dew through a straw. And checking out the occasional good-looking guy.
"Why do they even have a python exhibit?" I asked Cassie. "All they ever do is lie there. That snake might as well be fake. He could be plastic.
Now, leopards, sure. They move around. They give you dirty looks. But pythons?"
"She thinks she has to be entertaining," Cassie said, still worried about her mother's presentation. "It's dangerous when Mom tries to be entertaining. See, she'll think she has to be cool and all. She'll start talking about The Fudgies,' or 'Snoopy Diggity Dog,' or 'Boys Eleven Men,' or 'Nice Is Neat.'"
I laughed out loud, practically spraying Mountain Dew from my nose.
"Okay, The Fugees,
Snoop Doggy Dogg and Boyz II Men I get. But what's Nice Is Neat?"
Cassie looked guilty. "NIN. You know, Nine Inch Nails? I wanted to get the new CD but I was broke, so I told my mom NIN stood for Nice Is Neat."
I grabbed Cassie's arm and turned her around. "No way. You? That sounds like something Marco would have thought up."
Cassie quickly looked down at the ground. Then she started laughing.
"Okay, it was Marco's idea. He said, 'What parent can possibly resist a rock group named Nice Is Neat?' See, Marco wanted me to get the CD so he could make a tape. . . . Anyway, it worked."
"Cassie, Cassie, Cassie. When you start taking advice from Marco, the end of civilization is very near. Besides, you and Nine Inch Nails? Do you even like the band?"
Cassie made a face. "Actually they're a little depressed and grim and harsh for me. Although it would be perfect for my mood today."
Cassie shook her head, worried again. "I know she's going to bring it up. She's going to say something like, 'Saving endangered species is cool - like listening to Nice Is Neat.' I'll have to change schools.
I'll have to move to another town."
She grabbed my Mountain Dew and took a swig. "Why, Rachel? Why, of all the places we could go on a field trip? Why do we have to come to my mom's work?"
We leaned against the railing above the crocodile pit. About half the class had wandered on ahead. About half were still behind us. And now we were mixed in with a class of yammering, noisy kindergartners, all wearing name tags.
"I don't know," I said to Cassie. "Just your bad luck, I -" Right in front of me, not ten feet away, some dumb little boy was climbing up on the railing. "Hey! Hey! Get down off there, you -"
Suddenly, he was gone.
Over the edge.
Into the crocodile pit.
?Aaaaahhhhh!"
The little boy screamed and suddenly everyone was silent.
Then, a split second later, everyone was yelling. Me, Cassie, adults, the teachers and parent volunteers with the kindergarten.
"Help! Help!"
"He just fell in!"
"I couldn't stop him!"
"I didn't even see!"
"Tyler! Tyler! Are you all right?"
Cassie grabbed my arm to get my attention. She stared into my eyes, making sure I heard her. "I'll get help. I'll be right back. Don't do anything dumb, Rachel. Don't!" She sprinted away.
I leaned far out over the railing. Everyone was pushing to get a view of the kid named Tyler. But no one could see him. He had fallen straight down and rolled into a shallow alcove at the base of the wall.
The way the habitat was set up, there was a sort of island in the middle. Around it was a moat or stream or whatever you want to call it.
Just below me, at the bottom of the wall, was a second dry area. I guess that's where the crocodiles went when they didn't want people staring at them.
There were six crocodiles in that pit. All six were lying peacefully on the center island, surrounded by the water. They had all been sleeping.
They'd been as still and boring as the sleeping python.
But now I saw one crocodile eye open. It was a large brown eye with a black slit for a pupil. It was a sly, ruthless eye.
If the crocodiles moved for the kid, it would all be over long before help could come.
Another croc opened his eye and turned his head toward the boy.
"Oh, man," I groaned. I took a deep breath. I didn't have any morph that could take on a fifteen-foot-long crocodile. Not my grizzly bear morph.
Not even my elephant morph, probably. And even to save a life, I couldn't morph in public.
Which just left two choices. Do nothing, and
let the crocodile hurt the kid. Or do something really dumb.
I chose dumb.
"Look! Over there!" I screamed as loud as I could, pointing wildly.
Every head turned to look. I jumped onto the railing, balanced myself like the amateur gymnast I am, then leaped for the branch of a fake, concrete tree overhanging the pit.
I grabbed the branch. Just like the uneven parallel bars, only it tore at my palms. I swung, then dropped to a lower branch.
I scraped my right forearm bloody, but I caught the branch, killed my speed, and dropped the last ten feet to the floor of the crocodile pit.