The Koala of Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

huh. Anyway, Letty, AnnaLee Harris will be your interviewer, and she’ll start off the segment with a brief Koala Kate eulogy, then she’ll introduce you. Make sure to say you’re heartbroken about Kate and how wonderful she was to work with and what a tragedy blah-blah-blah, then tell Bess to pass you that bear thingy. Once she does, give the viewers some basic information about him.”
    “My helper’s name is Bernice , Suzi. And the koala’s a female named Wanchu. She’s not a bear, she’s a marsupial.”
    “Whatever. Then we’ll break for commercial, which will be two-and-a-half minutes. When we come back, AnnaLee will ask you some follow-up of questions about the bear.”
    This time I let the mistakes slide. With Bernice paying close attention, Suzi prattled on, listing the order in which she wanted the animals introduced. After the ‘bear thingy,’ she wanted the ‘striped thingy’—I took that to mean the numbat; and then the ‘disgusting fat thingy’—probably the poor wombat. Last up would be the ‘baby kangaroo.’
    Sighing, I said, “He’s an adult wallaby, Suzi. His species tops out at two feet high.”
    “Uh huh. So let the baby kangaroo hop around some, ’cause our viewers like to see animals in action, not just laying there like they’re dead or something.”
    I assured her I’d let the wallaby give a few hops, if he was awake. He’d been snoring when we lugged him in from the van.
    “Then give him a good kick to wake him up, just don’t let the viewer see it. They tend to overreact to that sort of thing.”
    Bernice frowned. She didn’t like the idea of a kicked wallaby any more than I did.
    I gave Suzi my best glare but she was so busy looking at her watch that she didn’t notice. Bernice and I started to settle back down on the brown vinyl couch but were interrupted in mid-squat when Suzi said, “Commercial. Let’s get those fur balls out there. Stay at my side until I tell you to move.”
    She opened the Green Room door and ushered us into the studio.
    The studio was so dark I could see little in its cavernous space, only the set itself where AnnaLee Harris, wearing enough makeup to sink the Titanic all over again, sat under glaring lights on a small sofa. She was holding a book up to the camera. Across from her sat a bewildered-looking elderly man, whom I took to be the author.
    “As Mr. Greenwald here has so movingly pointed out,” AnnaLee was saying, an unsettling smile on her face. “ Growing Up on an Arkansas Chicken Farm, which he will be signing today at noon at the Book Beast in San Sebastian, makes delightful reading for those who wish to return to those less-pressured days of yesteryear…”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t say less pressured…” the author began, then a voice in the darkness interrupted him. “And we’re out for commercial!”
    The smile left AnnaLee’s face as she turned away from the author like he no longer existed. “Next!” she snapped to Suzi.
    Suzi rushed forward, hauled the author off the sofa and pushed him toward the Green Room. Once he’d disappeared, muttering to himself, she said to Bernice, “Give whatshername the bear now.”
    “Teddy. Koala.” Bernice opened Wanchu’s cage.
    As Bernice picked her up, Wanchu gave a grunt and opened her eyes. Where in the world am I ? she appeared to be thinking. When Bernice handed her to me, she snuggled against my neck and fell back asleep.
    “Get over there,” Suzi said, shoving me toward the sofa. “You’re on in thirty seconds.”
    For a moment, I panicked. “What’ll I say?”
    “Follow AnnaLee’s lead. And for God’s sake, do what you’re told. If you don’t, she’ll take it out on me.”
    Another shove, and suddenly there I was, sitting on the sofa with twenty pounds of dozing koala wrapped around my neck, staring at a red light on a camera that seemed to be looking up my nose.
    “Five, four, three, two…” Suzi counted.
    “Welcome back to Good Morning, San Sebastian !”