They’ve sent plenty of vehicles. Parked at the edge of the trees are three police cruisers, an ambulance, a fire truck. Lights flash; sirens blare. Men and women storm into the forest, carrying medical equipment.
“Let’s go with them,” I say to Grandma.
“Lily,” she says, “you have an injured ankle.”
“I don’t care. I need to see that Henry Jack is all right.”
And so we head into the thick woods. Grandma takes one of my elbows; Trullia takes the other. They are human crutches, supporting my weight as I hobble between trees in the direction of the campfire.
Finally, there’s the orange campfire light flickering through the night. The police have Mike and Charlie and Gus in handcuffs, and Henry Jack is talking to the cops, his face even more furrowed than ever in the glow of the fire.
His face lights up when he sees me.
“Holy showman!” he says. “I was worried about you.”
“I was worried about you.”
“Guess that means you two are friends,” says one of the police officers.
Henry Jack and I both nod.
“What the heck were you doing here, with Queenie Grace?” demands Trullia.
Henry Jack waves a hand.
“Long story,” he responds. “Tell you later.”
“I didn’t do anything, Trullia,” Mike calls.
“Likely story,” Grandma retorts. “That would be why you’re in handcuffs?”
“The kid jumped on me! Charlie had to hold him in self-defense!” Mike insists, his face scrunched up.
“Yeah, right,” I retort, the handcuffs around Mike’s wrists making me brave.
“Why don’t you tell everybody what you three were doing here in the woods?” I say to Mike, my elbows still held by my mother and grandmother. “You had plans to steal Queenie Grace! To sell her and make money!”
Mike just shakes his head. Gus kicks at sticks and Charlie scratches his beard on his shoulder.
“Darn kid should go back to West Virginia where she belongs,” mutters Mike.
Trullia drops my elbow.
“You will not talk to my daughter that way!” she shouts, stepping close to Mike’s face. “I have half a mind to just slap your face!”
“Ma’am,” says one of the officers, “calm down.”
“I told you that man was no good,” Grandma mumbles, still holding my right elbow.
“And that darn elephant needs to go,” Charlie says. “It had Gus pinned on the ground! Just held him down with her hoof and kept him there!”
“Queenie Grace was protecting us!” I say.
“Oh, and that’s why she tried to crush a man,” Mike spat.
“If she wanted to crush him, he’d be flat as a pancake!” Trullia says.
The police start asking questions about Queenie Grace: How old is she? Who’s her legal owner? Has she ever hurt someone?
Grandma, small and steady, answers all their questions. She’s calm until she starts talking about Grandpa Bill and how he just died, and then she dissolves into crying.
Tears fill my eyes, too. My ankle aches and so does my heart. I’m so tired, so scared. The police ask for the address, for Grandma’s address, for the location of the elephant.
I swear I hear Grandpa’s scratchy voice inside my head, saying, Save Queenie Grace. Take good care of my girl.
“Grandma,” I say, “can we go back now, before they get to Queenie Grace? I’m afraid they’re going to take her away.”
Grandma hugs me. “I’m afraid, too, Lily.”
We get back in the car and the police are still in the woods, talking to the three handcuffed men and to Henry Jack and Faith. She showed up while the bad guys were being put in handcuffs.
Grandma Violet drives, fast and furious, and we ride in silence. When we get back to Grandma’s place, I say, “May I have some alone time with Queenie Grace?”
“Of course, honey,” Grandma says.
Grandma and Trullia go inside, and I go to Queenie Grace.
“I’m really sorry,” I say to her, reaching out and touching the skin of her trunk. “It was a bad idea, that running-away thing. It might have made things worse. But at least the bad guys can’t get you now. That’s one good thing, right?”
The elephant snuffles. My ankle hurts and so I lie down, on my back, under the stars. I keep talking, looking up at Queenie Grace.
“So I’m sorry if me being here caused any problems for you. I never meant for that to happen. I’ve really started to like you . . . to love you, Queenie Grace.”
I can see her eyes shining watery in the light of the moon. Queenie Grace lowers herself slowly to the ground. She lies right next to me, just like she did that time when I was little, when I fell off my bike. This time, though, I have no fear. All I feel is comfort, and love.
The swishing tail, flappy ears, bristly rough hairs, the snuffling sounds of her breath, the swinging trunk. We lie side by side, Queenie Grace and me. It’s a universe of elephant.
Except now, I’m not afraid. Now I can feel the heat of Queenie Grace and I can hear her breathing and I feel no fear. Nothing but love here. The universe of elephant has become my world.
I cuddle up to her.
“Queenie Grace,” I say. “You are one amazing elephant.”