Chapter Ten

THE JERBOA

“D-d-d-don’t hurt me!” stammered the creature, trembling with fear beneath Dawn’s sturdy paw. “P-please! Let me go!”

“Pah!” scoffed Bismark, placing his hands on his hips. “Do not liberate that dangerous beast!”

Dawn kept her paw firmly planted. She needed no advice.

“D-d-dangerous?” echoed the animal. “That’s impossible! I’m t-t-t-tiny!”

Tobin squinted. The creature was indeed tiny. From his head to his haunches, he was only half the size of the sugar glider. In fact, with his oversized ears, puny body, and long tail, he looked like a miniature, malnourished mouse—hardly the profile of an animal napper. But still, there was something strained about the way he spoke that made the pangolin suspicious.

“P-p-please,” begged the creature. He sniveled and coughed. “My t-t-tail. Look out for my tail!” Nervously, he eyed Dawn’s rear paw. “It’s very s-s-sensitive.”

But the fox still did not move. “Bring me something to tie him,” she instructed the bats. “We will secure this stranger until we know more.”

“Right away!” said the bats. They stripped the surrounding greenery and quickly wove together a cord out of stalks and vines.

With the creature restrained, Dawn finally lifted her paw. “Who are you?” she asked, leaning in. Her eyes narrowed to slivers.

“I’m J-J-Jerry,” he said, tilting away from the fox. “J-J-Jerry the g-g-gentle jerboa.” The animal delivered a shaky smile that strained his cheeks and jaw.

Not convinced, Dawn leaned in even closer. “Can you tell us anything about a missing wombat?”

“And kiwis,” added Tobin.

“Oh, k-kiwi,” said Jerry. “I love kiwi. Delicious and high in water c-c-c-content. The seeds g-g-get stuck in my teeth, though.”

“Not the fruit!” snapped a bat.

“The bird,” said another.

Dawn locked eyes with the jerboa. “We are investigating a wave of animal disappearances,” she said. “Do you have any information?”

Jerry squirmed in his bonds. “I c-c-can’t think,” he sputtered. “These v-v-vines are c-c-cutting off my circulation.”

With a sigh, the fox motioned for the bats to loosen the rope.

“M-m-much better,” said the jerboa. The animal stretched and rose to his feet.

Cora let out a gasp. “His legs,” she whispered, drawing close to Tobin.

The pangolin nodded. The creature had long hind legs, spindly and bent backwards at the knee, like a flamingo’s.

“L-l-l-let me think,” he stalled, shifty eyes darting from one animal to the next. “W-w-well,” he continued, “I h-h-have heard a good deal of c-c-c-commotion recently….”

Dawn glared at the creature. “Out with it,” she demanded.

“Don’t play stupido!” Bismark chimed in. “We saw you at the scene of the crime. Practically caught you red-pawed!”

“R-r-right,” stammered Jerry, a bit flustered now.

Cora stepped toward him, tears misting her eyes. “Please,” she begged.

Tobin padded to his wombat friend’s side. “Her brother was taken,” he explained. “Is there anything you know that could help us?”

“I don’t know anything! I s-s-swear!” stammered Jerry.

“Then why were you down by the river?” pressed Dawn. “We saw you watching us from the bushes.”

Jerry eyes darted to the ground. “I was h-hiding,” he said. “I was so s-s-scared.” “My family was taken, too,” he muttered. “I thought maybe y-y-you were the n-n-nappers.”

Bismark placed his hands on his hips. “Tell us more! Give us evidence of your innocence!” he demanded, flashing his cape. “Pronto!”

“Prong toe?” asked the creature, scrunching his nose in confusion.

“No!” said the sugar glider. “‘Pronto.’ It means, ‘hurry up and tell us what you know’!”

“I’m sorry,” said Jerry, twiddling his paws. “I have a hard t-t-time understanding all you b-b-bats.”

“For the last time!” wailed Bismark, clenching his fists. The sugar glider spun around, showcasing his long furry tail. “I am none other than Animalia, Chordata, Mammalia, MAR-SUP-IALIA!”

“He’s not a bat,” Tobin said, translating the rant.

“Not at all,” agreed Cora.

“Marsupial,” muttered the bats. “Definitely a marsupial.”

“Jerry,” said Dawn, undistracted, “if your family has been taken, will you join in our search? We need all the eyes and ears we can get.”

All eyes bore down on the little rodent. His long tail twitched.

“Why y-y-yes,” he stammered, “of course.” The jerboa nervously shifted his weight. “Anything I can do to help.”

Dawn studied the sky. The moon was on its way down to the horizon. “Let’s go,” she commanded, “while we still have some time before daybreak.” She eyed the tiny creature. She did not trust the jerboa. She did not trust him at all.