RARE BEASTS (6 page)

H
ELP
!
I can’t find Hodgekiss!
Have you seen my brown bunny rabbit?
–Kyle, 555-9896

L
OST
!
MY CAT
Answers to the name Blumpers
Mostly black with white feet and a pink nose
Please call Annie at Annie’s house, 555-1722

There were dozens of posters in a rainbow of colors, each one crying out for a different missing pet and featuring a crayon drawing or blotchy photograph. Edgar and Ellen rumbled past flier after flier, oblivious to all of them, including the one which warned:

Edgar and Ellen stopped the cart about a hundred yards down Ricketts Road, where the street intersected with Cairo Avenue, one of several streets in the small town named after much more impressive cities.

Cairo Avenue led north into Nod’s Limbs’ business district and people on their way to work drove right past the intersection.

“How does this spot look to you, Sister?” Edgar asked.

“Fantastic, Brother,” she answered. “Business-people make
oodles
of money! I can’t wait to get a great big pile of it!”

They pulled back the theater curtain, revealing the animals. The display looked a bit like a summertime lemonade stand, except instead of pitchers of refreshing lemonade, the twins had expensive and gruesome beasts. The two stood in front of their stand, bellowing like carnival barkers and waving their arms madly.

“Roll up!” yelled Edgar, “Roll right up and witness the marvels of the animal kingdom!”

“Come see for yourselves!” called Ellen, “See what has never been seen before!”

Cars cruised through the intersection, but not one came close to stopping. When too many vehicles passed by for Ellen’s liking, she told Edgar to stand on his head, flap his legs, and squawk like a parrot.

“Why not you, Sister?”

“Because, Brother, my pigtails get in the way and you have a flat head to help you stay balanced.”

A line of cars screeched to a halt in front of the squawking, pajama-clad, upside-down boy. Once they had established that Edgar was not, in fact, a member of some strange circus come to town, the drivers noticed the cart on the side of the road.

Several men and women got out of each car, all of them dressed neatly in business suits. They walked up to the wagon and began looking over the merchandise. A small black poodle shrouded in silver tinsel recognized a family member in the crowd and began to whimper and scratch, but the swarm of people paid it no mind.

The driver of the first car, a short balding man wearing a pinstriped suit and sunglasses, stepped to the front.

“Hey, are you two the owners of these bizarre things, or merely the owners’ agents?”

When the twins didn’t answer right away, he stamped his foot impatiently.

“Well, which is it? Speak up, I haven’t got all day,” he said.

“Owners, sir!” Ellen quickly said. “Each one of these magnificent creatures is from our own personal collection!”

“Well then, good! Good, good, good!” the balding man said. “Excellent! No need to dicker with a representative when you can do business with the owner face-to-face! Allow me to introduce myself.”

The man reached inside his jacket and with one smooth, practiced move, snapped out a small white card and presented it to Ellen. Edgar looked over her shoulder and they both read what was engraved on it in bold black type:

M
R
. M
ARVIN
M
ATTERHORN
Executive Business Executive

When they looked up, every adult had pulled out his or her business card and was offering it to the twins impatiently. Edgar and Ellen collected them all, each one printed with the person’s name and the title “Business Executive” or “Assistant Business Executive” or “Junior Business Executive.”

“Well, we haven’t got all day. We’re carpooling
to work,” said Mr. Matterhorn. “Very efficient, carpooling!”

The businesspeople behind him murmured, “Very efficient, indeed!”

Mr. Matterhorn removed his sunglasses and whipped a monogrammed
MM
handkerchief out of his pocket. As he cleaned the lenses, he continued:

“What we need are animals, pets for our kids who can’t seem to stop their blasted crying. We were all up half the night searching high and low, trying to find the cats and dogs that ran away yesterday. And each and every one of us had a miserable night’s sleep. Do you have
any
idea how lack of sleep affects our on-the-job performance?”

“Our performance, indeed!” agreed the others, nodding solemnly.

“Well, as I said, we need pets, and it certainly looks like the two of you have got them,” Mr. Matterhorn observed. “Although these creatures look rather peculiar.”

“That’s because they’re exotic animals, sir,” said Ellen. “Not anything like them in all the world!”

“Exotic? Is that right?” Mr. Matterhorn replied. “Well, I know it’s popular to have something that’s ‘one-of-a-kind,’ but I prefer things to be as similar
as possible. Easier to manage. Good management is everything. If something goes wrong, replace it with a duplicate and everything continues to run smoothly! Very efficient!”

“Very efficient, indeed!” chimed in his colleagues, who were now poking and prodding the strange little creatures.

Mr. Matterhorn nodded. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we, and make a deal? This odd little critter would make my daughter Mandy forget all about her missing bunny rabbit,” he said, examining a Boingabonga. “After all, bunnies don’t have long yellow snouts and antennae like this thing. What is your asking price?”

“It’s right there on the sign,”Ellen pointed out. “Our price for a Boingabonga is fifteeen hundred dollars.”

“Fifteen hundred dollars! Isn’t that a bit steep?” exclaimed Mr. Matterhorn.

“Fifteen hundred dollars is a steal! Our animals are exotic animals, and according to all the experts,
exotic
animals are
valuable
animals,” Ellen responded.

“Besides, these animals are from our own personal collection,” she said, trying to drum up sympathy. “We hate to part with our treasures, but we must, now that our poor family has fallen on such hard times.”

Mr. Matterhorn adjusted his sunglasses. “I’m sorry to hear you’re in financial trouble. I make it my business to avoid that type of problem. But dealings like these require some negotiation, young lady. You can’t expect us to hand over that kind of money for a
pet
! We just need something to keep our kids quiet. What do you say to—let me think for a moment— five dollars?”

“Five dollars?” repeated Ellen. “I say five dollars is an awful lot less than fifteen hundred!”

“All right, then. Ten.”

Ellen shook her head and glared at Mr. Matterhorn.

“You drive a hard bargain, miss, but you have to learn how to negotiate!” said the executive, beads of sweat forming on top of his hairless head. “You’ll never get
anywhere
in business if you don’t learn how to negotiate! Twelve dollars, and that’s my final offer!”

Ellen faced the crowd, doing her best to seem taller than she was. “My brother and I are not here to negotiate, we’re here to sell. These are valuable, exotic animals! And if you won’t give us what they’re worth, then you should leave!”

Mr. Matterhorn looked annoyed. “To be quite frank, there is no way we are going to pay you
that
kind of money for any of these little monsters. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t sell a single one.

“And this is an odd place for you to set up shop, isn’t it? The people passing through here are going to work! And people who work as hard we do, do it to
make
money, not
spend
it. Don’t forget the three rules of retail: Location! Location! Location!”

“Isn’t that just one rule?” asked Edgar. “Repeated three times?”

“That’s because it’s so important, young man!You’re lucky we’re here at all!” bellowed Mr. Matterhorn.

Ellen grimaced. “Well, you just don’t realize what you’re missing. Imagine, walking away from these delightful animals!”

Mr. Marvin Matterhorn’s mouth formed a hard line across his fleshy face. “Oh, we’ll come out on top of this deal—we always do. I’ll keep my eye out for you on our way home this evening. I’m sure you’ll have dropped your ridiculous prices by then!”

“Ridiculous, indeed!” the chorus echoed.

Mr. Matterhorn held his pose for several silent seconds as if to give Ellen one more chance to change her mind. Then with a loud “Humph!” he stomped back to his car.

The other businesspeople followed, uttering a collective “Humph!” as they turned away from the Exotic Animal Emporium and marched to their cars. Doors slammed shut, seatbelts clicked, and the vehicles departed.

Ellen glowered as she watched them disappear down Ricketts Road. Then she noticed Edgar standing there, smirking.

“What are you smiling about, chowderhead?” she fumed. “You didn’t help me try to sell these things at all, and now we’ve lost all those customers!”

“Oh, stop your whining!” Edgar retorted. “Those windbags don’t pay attention to their own kids, so I figured, why would they pay attention to me? While you were dealing with them, I put extra-strength glue on all their seatbelt buckles! They’ll be stuck in their cars all day long—so much for their important business deals.”