Elsie looked down at the puddle, then raised her trunk and let out a happy trumpet.

“I understand,” I said to her. “If I were you, I’d feel much better, too.”

Elsie turned back to her lunch, pulling a giant clump of hay off the bale and shoving it into her mouth with her trunk. I knew that if I wanted to get her attention, it was going to have to involve hay. Here’s a tip for you: You don’t mess with an elephant when she’s hungry.

I walked over to Elsie’s lunch spot and grabbed a fistful of hay. No, I wasn’t going to eat it. Like I said, I’m more of a hot dog guy. I held the hay out for Elsie to sniff. The tip of her long trunk nuzzled my hand—it actually felt like fingers tickling my palm. You’d be amazed how gentle such a huge animal can be. She took the hay and, curling her trunk toward her mouth, popped the whole handful in at once. I listened while she chewed. Then she burped.

“Well of course that’s going to happen,” I said. “You put too much in your mouth at one time. The same thing happens to me when I’m sharing a pickle with my grandfather, Papa Pete. I love pickles so much, I shove the whole thing in my mouth at once. Then it’s Burp City.”

Elsie was more interested in the hay than in my story. I picked up another fistful and she reached out for it with her trunk. This time, I took a few steps backward, and she followed me. I took a few more steps toward the fence that surrounded her enclosure. She followed me again. I kept repeating this until we were almost touching the fence.

“That’s a good girl,” I said to Elsie. “Now comes the hard part. But I know you can do it. My mom always says ‘if you can imagine it, you can make it happen.’ Of course, I don’t know if that applies to elephants, but I’m going to be positive here and say that it does.”

I held the hay in front of me, and Elsie stretched out her long trunk. Instead of giving her the hay, I took hold of her trunk with my hands. Then she did the most amazing thing. She curled up her trunk so that it was in the shape of a hook—the perfect place for me to put my feet. I stepped onto her trunk, wrapped my arms around it, and held on tight.

“Now lift me up and put me down on the other side of the fence,” I told her. “When I’m on the other side, you’ll get your hay.”

As Elsie lifted me high into the air, it felt like I was in an elevator with no walls. Trust me, you don’t realize how tall an elephant is until you’re riding on its trunk. I looked down at the ground. That was a bad idea. It was way down there. So instead, I looked straight ahead of me and tried to pretend that what was happening wasn’t happening.

“Holy macaroni, Zip,” I heard Frankie’s voice call.

“Oh my goodness, what is going on?” Ms. Shimozato shouted.

“Elsie and I are working on a plan.”

“Whatever it is, it looks extremely dangerous,” she shouted.

“It sure does,” Ashley agreed. “Hank, are you okay up there?”

“A little dizzy. I’m glad I didn’t finish my scrambled eggs at breakfast, though. Did you guys find Nora?”

“We found someone who knew where she was and went to get her. We rushed back here to make sure you’re okay,” Ashley said.

“Zip!” Frankie called. “Can I just point out you’re on an elephant trunk?”

I tried to sound calm, like riding an elephant’s trunk was something I did every day. “Elsie is just giving me a little lift!”

“A little lift!” Ms. Shimozato cried. “You’re scaring me, Hank!”

“Believe me, you’re not the only one,” I answered.

“Get down here right now!” Ms. Shimozato commanded.

“You heard him, Elsie,” I said into her big ear. “Down, girl. Put me down on the other side of the fence.”

Elsie stood very still for a minute, then her big eyes turned to look me right in the eye.

“You can do this,” I told her. “One step forward and lower me down to my friends.”

Elsie took a baby step forward. Let me remind you that a baby step for her is like a giant leap for us. Then she started to lower her trunk. Seventh floor. Sixth floor. Fifth floor. Soon, I was close enough to the ground to slide down her trunk like a firefighter coming down a firehouse pole. As my feet touched the ground, I put my hands in the air and shouted, “We did it! Thank you, Elsie!”

To my surprise, I heard what sounded like people clapping. I looked around, and for the first time, noticed that a group of people had gathered. They were all pointing at me. A few were even taking pictures.

“That’s quite a show, kid,” a man in a Yankees baseball cap called out.

“Do you do that every day at noon?” a woman holding a baby shouted.

“I really didn’t do anything but hold on,” I said to everyone. “Elsie did the hard part, didn’t you, girl?” Elsie raised her trunk up to the sky and trumpeted loudly.

“That’s right,” I said to her. “You should be proud of yourself.”

Elsie trumpeted again.

“Oh, I get it,” I said. “You want your hay. Okay, here it is.”

I held the hay out in my hand and Elsie’s big trunk swooped down and picked it all up. Then the trunk and the hay disappeared over the fence.

“Hey everyone, I’ve got the key,” Nora called, running down the path toward us. “What’s the big emergency?”

“Hank was inside that enclosure with the elephant,” Ms. Shimozato told her. “It was so frightening.”

Nora turned to me. She looked shocked.

“You snuck in there?” she asked. “I hope you know that’s very dangerous!”

“Not if you know Elsie like I do,” I answered. “She’s my friend. Did you know that she’s a great soccer player?

“She’s an elephant. Elephants don’t play soccer.”

Luckily, I didn’t have to say a word. Elsie came to my rescue when a soccer ball came flying through the air. Usually I’m not very good at catching a ball, but this one was kicked up and over the fence, right to me. I reached out and grabbed it.

The people who were gathered let out a huge cheer.

“That’s amazing,” the man with the Yankees cap yelled.

“I want her on my team,” a kid called out.

Nora turned to the elephant enclosure. Elsie was standing at the fence, waiting for me to kick the ball back to her. I know it seems weird, but I’d swear that elephant was smiling.