mother said, “since they can’t be with their mother —”
“That’s why I had to bring them home. They have to be fed every few hours.”
“All night?” Nick asked.
“All the time,” I said.
“You were up all night feeding them?” my mother asked.
“Not all night,” I said. “I got some sleep.” Not much more than a few minutes at a time, I thought, but I had gotten some sleep. “They probably want to eat again.”
“Can I help?” Nick asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Please?”
“Well … I guess you can,” I said. I was actually going to ask him to help, because two kangaroos really required two sets of hands, but this way was even better — now he thought I was doing him a favour instead of it being the other way around.
“Thanks!” he cried.
“There are a couple of bottles over on the dresser,” I said.
Nick stood, took a step, then stopped. He lifted his foot and looked at the bottom. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at a dark smear on the bottom of his foot.
I knew exactly what it was.
He touched it with his hand. “
Ugggh
… it’s … it’s —”
“Kangaroo poo,” I said.
“That’s awful! That’s disgusting!” Nick squealed as he hopped around the room on one foot.
“It’s not awful. It’s fantastic!” I said.
“How can me stepping in poo be fantastic?” Nick demanded.
“Because you can’t poo unless you eat, so I know that at least one of them is getting enough milk,” I explained. “It’s hard to know for sure if they’re getting enough to eat because so much gets spilled or smeared on their fur, the floor or my clothes.”
“I’m glad you’re happy, but that doesn’t change the fact that this is disgusting!” Nick wailed.
“Don’t be such a big baby. Go and wash off your foot and come back. And if you’re not back soon, I’m not going to let you help.”
“Okay, okay,” Nick said, hopping out of the room.
“You better hurry up and feed them or we’ll be late,” my mother said. “I assume we have to deliver them to Mr. McCurdy’s on our way to drop you two off at school.”
“Actually,” I said, pausing and taking a deep breath, “I was hoping you could drop me off at Mr. McCurdy’s place, too.”
“You mean instead of going to school?”
I nodded. “I haven’t been away all year, and it’s not like I can’t afford to miss a day or two.”
“Two?”
“I meant later on, if I was sick or something, not that I’m not going to go to school tomorrow. Well …?”
“I guess a day would be okay.”
“Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it.”
“Besides, it sounds like you were already doing a lot of work learning about kangaroos. Where did you learn all of those things?”
“Some I knew already. I did some surfing last night,” I said, gesturing at the computer on the desk in the corner of my room. Actually, I didn’t have much choice. One of the other things I’d learned about kangaroos — after they kept me up most of the night — was that they were nocturnal.
“Now you better get moving,” my mother said. “I still have to get out of here on time to get to work and get your brother to school, so if you want a ride you’d better hurry.”
“I’ll hurry … and thanks.”
Chapter 5
“Good afternoon, Sarah,” Mr. McCurdy said. “Did you have a nice little nap?”
“It was good, but I don’t think it was that little.” I’d slept for close to two hours. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“Napping is good. But you still look tired,” Vladimir said. “Go back to sleep if you wish.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
I probably would still be sleeping if one of the roos hadn’t tried suckling my nose. It was a rude awakening — my eyes had popped open and I’d found myself eyeball to eyeball with a kangaroo. I now understood why my mother had thought they were rats. For a split second when I opened my eyes I’d thought my nose was being gnawed by a gigantic
Stephen Schwegler, Eirik Gumeny
Stephen Coonts; Jim Defelice