I love it here: our wonderful new home at the sanctuary. All the green, the trees! It is so big . . . big like me. Big like my baby, Little Gray.
I look up at night, and I see Bill the Giant in the sky. I hear his voice. And I rejoice, to know that he is still here. People never really leave, and neither do elephants.
There’s a kind lady who works here, an old lady with a minty smell. She has yellow hair and fancy cat’s-eye glasses, and her cheeks are rosy with blush. Her name is Donna, and she knows exactly what we elephants are thinking, how we are feeling. Donna reads our minds, just takes a quiet peek inside the mysterious brains of Queenie Grace and Little Gray.
And today, Donna is here. So is Lily, and Lily’s kind father, and Violet, and Trullia. Henry Jack, too. They are all here, a ring of family, a circle of happy.
Queenie Grace now loves Lily’s father, too. There is always the chance to love someone new.
Donna peers quietly into my eyes, and I feel our connection: stretching back and forth. She looks into the eyes of my baby Little Gray. Her eyes shine behind her glasses.
“What the elephants want to say,” Miss Donna announces to the humans, “is that they are very happy. They love this place, and they are thrilled that they can still paint. They say, ‘That’s not work, it’s fun!’ They are grateful to retire together, and to feel such a huge love for their young mahout Lily Pruitt.”
Lily stretches both arms wide, to touch both me and Little Gray at the same time. She reaches so hard it’s like she’s trying to hug the earth, this whole big mysterious world full of surprises.
“I love both of you,” Lily says to us. “And I think we need to give Baby more of a name.”
Donna smiles. She knows Little Gray’s name, because she sees it in my heart and mind.
“What are you thinking would be a good name for the baby?” Donna asks Lily.
Lily looks at my child. She squints, thinking. I concentrate, sending brain waves of the name into Lily’s heart and mind.
“Well, she was once littler than Queenie Grace, and she’s gray,” Lily announces. “Let’s call her ‘Little Gray’! I don’t even know where that name came from. It just popped into my head from out of nowhere.”
“It’s perfect,” says Donna with a knowing smile. “Just perfect.”
Donna and I exchange a glance. Little Gray and I each wrap a trunk around Lily’s shoulders and hold her close. We will always watch over her, keep her safe. That is what Bill expects, and I like to please my best friend. My best friends.
“You know how they say an elephant never forgets?” Lily says. “It’s more like a girl never forgets an elephant, once they’ve met and gotten to know each other.”
“You should write a new Manual for Mahouts,” says Henry Jack. “And put that in the book.”
“The elephants agree that you should write a book,” announces Donna. “And they say thank you, Lily. Thank you for saving them.”
“Thank you,” Lily says to my baby and me. “You sure did save me, too.”
Oh, I know: This much is true. Because, you see, we elephants know more than most people believe.