Chapter 32 Thursday, 0900 hours (9 AM)
The police came and took us in a van to a large police station and put us all together in a big room so they could find out who was a Calfer and who wasn't. It was pretty obvious that we kids weren't. But the police weren't so sure about Jeff's dad and especially about Rom.
After a while the police let us go and Chaba was outside the police station waiting for us. He's my granddad, and also the Ithaca-Pack Alpha-Wolf. I think I told you that already. It was nice of him coming all the way down to New York City to make sure we were okay. But then, it's sort of his job, making sure we werewolves don't get into trouble.
Then a taxicab came for Jeff and his dad, and we had to say goodbye. It was sad because now we were good friends. He's my only non-werewolf friend. I told Chaba that I'd like to keep being friends with Jeff and talk to him a lot on the phone. Chaba said it was long-distance and I shouldn't expect to talk very often. But Jeff's dad said not to worry about it. He'd pay for all the phone calls and we kids could talk as much as we wanted.
I think Jeff's dad is rich. My dad's not rich. He says that's because he's a professor of Lycanthropic Studies, although I have to call it 'Veterinary Studies'. Jeff's dad said we're rich too, but in other ways.
Anyway, Jeff and his dad invited us to come back to New York City for a visit, and Chaba said we could. I think we'll even go to the zoo again.
Then the police gave us another ride in a van. They drove me, and Rom, and Paul, and Talby, and Janos, and Zoltan, and Wolfred back to our van. (the guys wanted me to mention all their names.) It was good being back in our old familiar van.
As we drove back home, a lot of the pack talked about the zoo, but I didn't want to. With all the death I'd seen there, human and otherwise, it was almost enough to make me become a vegetarian (Just kidding!). Anyway, I was still tired, and I slept most of the way.
So that's it, Mrs. Winthrop.
The Story Of My Trip To The Zoo.
by Kit (Cat) Eotvos.
Fifth Grade. Mrs. Winthrop's Combined Class.
Ithaca Pack School
p.s. Please Mrs. Winthrop. Don't tell my dad about the Lycanthrozine, at least not for a couple of weeks.
p.s. (again) My granddad helped me write some of this. He knows about the Lycanthrozine too, but he's nice. He won't tell.