RARE BEASTS (7 page)

Ellen tugged on a pigtail and said, “Business,
indeed
!”

Mr. Marvin Matterhorn
Looks at us with so much scorn
Cares not why his kid’s forlorn—
He’s such a selfish dad!
We know what it’s like to be
Abandoned to our roguery
Just wait until those kids come see
The pets they might have had!

Edgar pointed at the cars passing by them. “Everyone around here seems to be concentrating very hard on getting to where they are going.”

Ellen nodded. “If no one will notice us here, let’s keep moving.”

So they continued on, Ellen struggling with the rusted handle to make the turn onto Rio Road.

“Blast it, Edgar, why didn’t you oil these axles and hinges when we had the chance?”

“Well, why didn’t
you
?” The twins made hideous faces at each other. Though it was a contest they often kept up for hours, they had a more important mission today. They turned their attention back to rolling the ungainly cart. Not far down the street they found a spot at the edge of a small park. While they were getting the display ready, they noticed some movement on Sydney Street, a short block
away. Two small boys, a few years younger than the twins, were crawling out of a culvert beneath the road. The wide-mouthed metal pipe was used to drain water after thunderstorms so the street wouldn’t flood, and the area around the culvert was often a swampy mess.

Crusty sludge and small bits of trash covered each boy from head to toe. It looked as if they had been crawling through culverts for some time now, and a thick coating of sewer slime made their hair color and the patterns on their clothes unidentifiable. But the twins clearly saw their puffy red eyes and the tear streaks in the grime on their faces.

“Brother, aren’t those the Turkle boys? Burl and Seth? They cry when the sun goes behind a cloud!”

Edgar squinted, now recognizing the Turkles beneath the filth.

“Why, yes they are, Sister. I guess they can’t find their pretty pooch. Serves them right!”

The twins watched as the two boys overturned rocks, picked through every small bush, and sorted through the trash littered about. After taking one last look into the culvert, the boys finally shrugged and trudged a short way up Sydney Street before disappearing inside another sewage pipe.

Edgar stood silent for a moment, staring after them with envy. He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

“Ah,
sewers
. It’s been a while since we’ve spent any quality time exploring them, Sister.”

Ellen elbowed him in the ribs.

“There will be plenty of time to renew our acquaintance later, Brother. The sewers aren’t going anywhere, you know, and we have work to do.”

Edgar rubbed his side, sighed again, and turned back to the cart.

“Rare beasts for sale!” he bellowed.

While the morning sun was still low in the sky, a truck pulled up in front of the Exotic Animal Emporium, belching black smoke as it came to a stop. On the side of the truck was a peeling picture of a smiling cow eating a piece of Swiss cheese, with the words “Nod’s Limbs Dairy” stenciled across the top.

A tall, powerfully built woman climbed down from the cab and looked at her rusty vehicle. Thick smoke poured out of its front and back ends.

“Aw, nuts,” she said.

The twins watched her walk over to a pay phone at the corner of the park. She wore a clean white uniform with a black bow tie and a white cap. With her head held high and her chest puffed out, she looked like she was marching in a one-person military parade.

Either the person she was calling didn’t answer, or the phone was out of order, for she suddenly slammed the phone back onto its cradle. She looked back at her truck and muttered something the twins couldn’t hear.

Ellen loudly cleared her throat.

“Ahem.”

Elsie Miller turned and looked surprised to see the twins and the elaborate cart full of creatures.

“Good morning, youngsters! What a beautiful day for you to be playing outside!

“And lookie here, aren’t these just the
cutest
little things you’ve ever seen!” she said, approaching the particularly freakish Lollimop. The Lollimop bobbed its green polka-dotted head and clucked.

“But you two,” she said as she leaned down close to the twins and pinched their ashen cheeks. “You look a little pale. You should drink more milk!”

Each sibling disliked being pinched by the other, so, needless to say, they both hated being pinched by someone else. Ellen was ready to give Elsie Miller a nasty pinch of her own when Edgar stomped on her foot and whispered, “Watch it! Don’t drive away the customer!”

The dairy driver carefully studied the animals from top to bottom, sometimes lifting them off the table to inspect their undersides.

“Maybe you two can help me out,” said Elsie as she checked under the tail of a bright orange Canterlamper. “I can’t seem to find udders or nipples on any of these here critters. Everyone knows you can’t make milk without udders or nipples! Down at the dairy, we’ve got plenty of cows, but we’ve found that goats make pretty good milk, too.

“Goats!”
she continued. “Who would’ve thought? And I’m a milk connoisseur! If people like goat’s milk and goat cheese, who’s to say they won’t like other kinds as well? I’ve got half a mind to start my own side business, selling milk and dairy products from other animals—it could be profitable. And I could get my own truck.”

Elsie tugged doubtfully at a protrusion on the stomach of the Lollimop that looked remarkably like a bulb from a string of holiday lights. The Lollimop scratched at the cart uncertainly and clucked again.

“So…do any of these odd little critters make milk?”

Ellen scratched her forehead and said, “Milk? Sure! Some of them make milk. In fact, the most exotic of our animals produce the most delicious milk. That’s why they’re the most valuable!

“See that Mildewilder down there? Mmmm,
mmm
! And it’s only
three thousand
dollars
. Think of all the exotic milk you could sell with your very own Mildewilder! You’d make back your investment in no time.”

“Well, I think I’d like to sample some exotic Mildew-whatever milk! I wouldn’t be a milk expert if I didn’t try some, would I? But I’m sorry to say the Nod’s Limbs Dairy can’t afford three thousand

dollars, and I certainly can’t afford it on my own. If the dairy had that kind of cash, I’d make them fix my truck first! Just look at that heap of junk.”

Elsie Miller glanced at the smoking vehicle and shook her head.

“Do any of your less expensive animals make milk?”

“Well, maybe the Mildewilder
is
a bit out of your league,” Edgar sneered. “That’s all right, I’m
sure
we could sell it to some
other
dairy who can appreciate the lucrative opportunity available with Mildewilder milk.”

He pointed at a small, pink, feathered creature a bit farther down the line. “How about a Grobble? Its milk is not quite as refined as a Mildewilder’s, but it is more affordable. Only twenty-five thousand dollars!”

The dairy driver lifted her cap and ran her fingers
through her hair. “
Affordable?
Are you
serious
? Do you have something for maybe, say, twenty dollars?”

Edgar shuddered, realizing that neither the Nod’s Limbs Dairy nor Elsie would make them rich.

“Our most inexpensive creatures are one thousand dollars and not a penny less, and we have no milk makers for under two thousand dollars! So if you’re not buying, please move your broken-down truck away from our emporium. That black smoke is scaring away all our customers and choking our animals.”

Elsie shrugged and turned to leave when Ellen appeared with a glass full of dark, cloudy liquid.

“Before you go, please try some of our splendid Mildewilder milk, on the house!” she said sweetly.

Elsie eyed the glass warily.

“No, missy. I don’t drink chocolate milk. Spoils the palette.” Elsie puffed out her chest. “Only pure milk for me.”

“This is pure
brown
milk,” said Ellen. “You know how some chickens lay brown eggs? It’s the same idea. But if your palette isn’t sophisticated enough…”

“I have top-class taste buds!” said Elsie. She took the glass, swished the liquid around, and sniffed it. Finally she put it to her lips and drank down the whole thing in one gulp.

“YUCK!” gagged Elsie. She spat and coughed and rubbed her mouth. “This is the worst milk I’ve ever tasted! I’d rather put vinegar on my cereal!”

“That’s a shame,” said Ellen sadly. “Kings and queens the world over enjoy a good glass of Mildewilder milk. You should probably stick to boring old cow milk.”

“Well, I never cared much for namby-pamby royalty anyway.”

Elsie feigned a smile and Edgar gasped. The woman’s teeth were so black it looked like she had a set of toothless gums. He clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from bursting with laughter.

“My goodness, Elsie, you have such a lovely smile,” Ellen said. “If I were you, I
’
d plaster that grin across your face all day long.”

“Why, thank you. Brush, floss, gargle, floss!” Elsie said. “But I’ve dillydallied with my dairy deliveries long enough. Good luck to you both.” With that, Elsie Miller climbed back into her rusty truck and drove off, explosive backfires of exhaust fading as she disappeared over a hill.

“Ha! That smoke is almost as dirty as her teeth!” said Ellen, pulling out a flask filled with brownishpurply liquid. “Courtesy of the digestive juice from
one of my carnivorous plants. Elsie will need some extra-strength toothpaste tonight!”

“Or steel wool!” Edgar exclaimed, and the twins sang:

“Elsie wants some milk that’s clean
But she drives that foul machine
Coughing smoke
—
it’s as obscene
As her not-so-pearly whites.
Silly milkmaid took a drink,
And now her teeth are black as ink
—
Still, our selling record stinks!
When will the buyers bite?”

The twins finished their song and collapsed against each other, cackling and chortling. With a few last snickers, Ellen cast a fresh eye on their location.