CINDERELLA, P. I. AROUND THE WORLD Join Cinderella, P. I. in EIGHT NEW ADVENTURES. Along with our clever detective, search for a missing Prince Charming–not her own, but Snow White’s–in “Cinderella and the Mysterious Blonde.” Other missing persons include a Muse, Cinderella herself, and two kids–Cinderella’s own younger son and her little girl. Investigate a surprising development in “Cinderella and the Tooth Fairy” plus mischief and mayhem in “Cinderella, Bewitched,” “Cinderella’s Matchless Case,” and “Cinderella and the Man in Charge,” all twenty years, three kids and a few extra pounds after the ball.
CASE # 19 – CINDERELLA AND THE MAN IN CHARGE
“You must be Mr. Dirk,” I said as the young man took my
right hand between his cool, smooth hands. “I understand you need my help here
at the zoo.” Mr. Dirk pulled me toward him. I didn’t mind because he was quite
personable, younger though shorter than Prince C, with even features and slick
brown hair that matched his brown uniform, its creases crisp. Glancing down, I
noticed that he was barefoot. That’s odd, I thought.
Mr. Dirk and I stood near the entrance to the Kingdom Zoo.
Of course, my family, animal-lovers all, scattered the instant they hit the
gate. Prince C with Sophie, our youngest, on his shoulders, the two of them
looking like a totem pole, went off to see the bears. Our oldest child Artie,
along with his girlfriend Cinderannie, she of the piercings and totally black
wardrobe, went somewhere else, but Boxy, our middle child, right on the cusp of
adolescence, hung around a while to toss fish to the seals in their big pool
near the front gate. “Arrrf! Arrrf! Arrrf!” barked the seals before Boxy took
off, too.
Now I must admit that I wasn’t thinking much about my folks,
not even my husband, Prince C. By then, I was enchanted by Mr. Dirk’s big dark
eyes. “What is this all about?” I asked.
“Hey, Ma, look at me. No hands.”
I whirled around when I heard the voice and a thumping on
the ground. Boxy galloped by on an ostrich. The bird flapped its wings. The kid
flapped his arms. Behind them ran an attendant, flapping a leash. Reminded of
my marital status by my son, I sprang away from Mr. Dirk. Then I shouted,
“Watch out” as Boxy on his mount almost ran down some dwarf sightseers. But
they jumped to safety in the geranium beds on either side of the path. “I must
apologize for the behavior of my son, Mr. Dirk. I’ll just go after him and–”
I noticed that Mr. Dirk had luscious eyelashes, lying like
silken brown butterflies on his cheeks. Then he opened those gorgeous eyes
again, smiled and I thought, Oh no, he’s even got a dimple on his right cheek.
As if I were under a spell, he led me to a bench. We sat,
knees facing each other. I wore a frilly yellow frock, sandals more comfortable
than they looked, and a straw hat with a wide brim to keep the sun out of my
eyes. Good thing, too, because I was already dazzled by Mr. Dirk.
Just then, close by, an elephant trumpeted, and there came
Artie and Cinderannie, riding way up high in the tasseled box on the gray back.
They waved before they went back to smooching. The elephant, its harness held
by its keeper, plodded on.
I scooted away from Mr. Dirk as Prince C, with Sophie in
front of him, rode up on a tall, trudging camel led by a guy in a tan burnoose.
I fanned my blush away with my hand.
When they’d passed, I felt Mr. Dirk’s warm breath on my neck
and got goose bumps. Up I jumped. “Why don’t we walk around the zoo? That way
you can show me the problem you need my help with.”
Mr. Dirk wasn’t much with words, but as he guided me along
the paths, I got the picture.
Sure, the two young gorillas played hide and seek around the
corner between their outer cage and their inner one, but they’d have had lots
more fun if they could scamper around in their larger habitat that had plants
and rocks and real tree branches. A barred door shut off that part, though.
Further on, a lioness nursed her two cubs. As we passed, she
glared at me with her golden eyes and bared her teeth as if to warn us away
from her babies. Outside her cage extended substantial acreage designed to look
like the veldt, but it didn’t have even a single animal of any kind in it.
The aviary was made like a greenhouse, all of glass panels,
only instead of being level, it went up a hill, with doors top and bottom. In
there, no birds flew and no birds sang, but we passed lots of filled cages. In
one sat a raven using a glossy black feather held in his beak to guide a kernel
of corn across the ground toward the cage, but he never got the corn close
enough to pull through the bars.
Mr. Dirk released my elbow, knelt, picked up a handful of
corn, and put it in the cage. The raven pecked hungrily at the grain.
When Mr. Dirk stood up again, he smiled at me and I about
fell into his deep dark eyes. “I think I see the problem here,” I said. “But
why are all the animals caged like this when they have perfectly lovely
habitats? What has happened here?”
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