9780008390662

aardvarks
Across the way, I hear something.
A small squeak.
“Who lives over there?” I ask Stretch.
“The aardvark family,” he replies. “Lovely neighbors.”
Carefully, I venture across Stretch’s domain. The sky is dark as dusk.
I hear a flutter of wings overhead. It’s Mitch, the mockingbird. He’s missing
some feathers.
“Bob,” he calls, settling on a fence post. “Was that you I saw up there?”
“Yep. How are things looking?”
“Not good. Lotta damage.”
“Well, take care of yourself,” I say.
“Likewise.” He pauses to straighten a wayward feather. “Little hint, by the
way. Next time you fly, try flapping your paws.”
I make my way over a broken wooden barrier, tiptoe over some scattered
glass and twisted metal, cross the paved path, and arrive at the aardvarks.
More sounds. They’re coming from what looks like a demolished keepers’
shed. I hesitate, not sure what to do. It’s a big mess, and I’m a small guy.
Also, my head hurts. I feel dazed. Fuzzy. My ears are ringing.
I yank off some small stray boards with my mouth.