I could hear someone talking through the walls.
“The big man’s back.”
I’d been lying awake for hours, running the events of the day through my head. Father took me out the back door of the gatehouse with Manray. When we got back to our house, I told him I was fine. That’s when he gave me the Paw. Tim was furious and said I screwed up and almost got myself killed so I shouldn’t have it. But Father said he was proud of me.
We ate and washed and prepared for the Welcoming Gala, which I usually loved. But that night, the music seemed muted, the food tasted bland, and I couldn’t focus on a single thing anybody said or did all night.
Because the jaguar told me, “Yes.”
But now there was someone in our house, and I was scared.
“Just be quick about it.”
“You think they’re asleep?”
Robbers are dangerous out here. No policemen, no protection. We post guards around the walls of the resort at night, but there’s no one at our home; Father prefers privacy. The men are always saying he should post a guard at the door. Lots of criminals from Georgetown hide out in the jungle, and this is a good place to sack, filled with rich guests.
“It’s getting late. We should make a move.”
I flung off the sheets. The night air was cool and it raised bumps on my skin. If they were in the house already, it might be too late.
“Go and tell us if it’s clear.”
I put my hand to the Paw in my front pajama pocket, and it gave me courage. I leaped out of bed, ran to the big door at the end of the hall, and frantically knocked.
On the other side, I heard a curse and the sound of a turning lock. Father opened the door in sleeping clothes. His hairy legs were bare beneath white shorts, his eyes squinty, and his mustache flattened on the side he’d been sleeping on.
He collared me and closed the door behind us, opening the oil lamp he kept hanging from the bedpost and turning the spark stone. A golden light leaped across the room.
A big bronze ring that hung on an iron hook glowed brightly. They were Father’s keys to the zoo. He ran his fingers over them and sat across from me.
“Sound it out slow,” he said.
“RR—rh—rh-rh—” I stuttered, and stopped. Father seemed patient tonight, or maybe he was still just half asleep. I minded my mouth contacts. Lips, tongue, teeth, air. “RR—ro—oo—”
It hurt. My lips curled and I was fighting myself, I could tell. It never worked if I fought myself.
Father blinked the sleep out of his eyes and put his hands on my shoulders, reassuringly. He had enormous hands that could crush me if they wanted, but he was always gentle.
“Rob—rob—ers.” I pointed at the door, and Father’s eyes widened.
“In the house?” he whispered.
I pointed to my ear and nodded. Father shot his attention toward the door. The wood looked thin. He passed me the oil lamp and threw the pillow off his bed. Beneath was an ornate oak box.
An ivory-handled revolver was cushioned inside, a gift from some nobleman. Father brandished the gun and pushed open the bedroom door.
When we got to Tim’s room, he was still asleep. It’s nearly impossible to wake him up without pulling him out of bed, so that’s what Father did.
“Huh! What’s it?” Tim gasped as he hit the floorboards. He spotted me first. “Marlin! I’ll kill you, you peeve!”
Father knelt and put a hand over Tim’s mouth.
“Marlin’s heard intruders,” he whispered.
“Sure it’s not voices in your head?” Tim said, pushing Father’s hand away.
“Quiet.”
“I was quiet before you barged in,” Tim mumbled.
Father glared at him, and Tim cast down his eyes. He’d forgotten who he was talking to. Father pushed us both behind him, and the three of us made our way into the hall. Father kept the pistol close to his side and told me to hold the lamp high. We descended the stairs and checked the dining room. It was empty. Then the parlor and the kitchen. No one was there.
I felt a pinch at my back. “Ah!” I cried.
Father spun on me with the gun. The Jungle Look flashed for a moment, and I thought he’d shoot me. Then he lowered the gun.
“Silence,” he slowly mouthed. Behind me, Tim was trying to hold his chuckling back.
We checked the library, the back way, the sunroom, the washrooms, and the closets. Father tested the bolts on the front and back doors. Both were engaged and undamaged.
“No signs,” he said with a sigh.
“I’d hoped there were thieves,” laughed Tim. “Then we could hand them Monkey Talker here as a hostage.”
Father just looked tired. Tim laughed some more.
“Th-th-th—” I stuttered.
“I think we’ve had enough excitement for the night,” Father said. “Let’s go back to bed.”
“That’s it?” Tim said. “That’s all he gets for waking us up in the middle of the night, with a new load of guests just arrived, to chase his imaginary friends?”
Father considered it for a minute. Then he held out his hand. “I’m sorry, Marlin.”
“N-nnn-NNN—” No, I tried to say.
But he just looked at me with tired eyes.
I put my hand over my breast pocket, shivering slightly.
“Never more than a day.” Tim shook his head in mock sympathy.
Father pushed my hand away and pulled the Paw out of my breast pocket. He passed it to Tim, who crowed triumphantly.
“Next time you have a nightmare,” Tim whispered to me, “just wet your bed.”