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“Why can’t you help?” Butterbean asked, tilting her head the other way. “It’ll be fun! You can help us get rid of them and then go back to the zoo!”

“For that mayor thing,” Polo said. “And the sports. They need you.”

Jerome gave her a pitying look.“Yes, that all sounds nice, doesn’t it? But it’s just not possible.”

“But WHY?” Wallace squeaked.

“Because,” Jerome sighed. “I can’t go back. I don’t know the way. I’m stuck.”

— 16 —

“SO, WE KNOW WHAT WE need to do,” Walt said while Mrs. Food and Madison were distracted by breakfast the next morning. “Plan Number One. Get rid of the ghost men. Plan Number Two, get Jerome back to the zoo,” Walt said. “Any questions?”

Butterbean raised a paw. (It was a new thing she’d been learning with Madison. She was very good at it.) “I have a question about Plan Number One. What is it exactly?”

“I have that same question, except about Plan Number Two,” Marco said.

Walt sagged a little.“I’m still working out the details.”

Oscar sat on the bottom of his cage. It’s what he did when he was feeling depressed. “We’re doomed.”

“We’re not doomed,” Walt said. “We’ll think of something. We always do.”

“Nice cheerleading, Walt, but it’s too late. Look at the clock!” Oscar said, snapping his beak like the clock had personally offended him. “The ghost men will be here any minute. And what are we going to do? Even Mrs. Food can’t talk Mrs. Third Floor out of hiring them.”

Walt sagged even more. Oscar was right.“I’d just hate for those guys to win,” Walt muttered.

“Me too,” Oscar said softly.

Butterbean gave a mournful sniffle.“Mrs. Third Floor is going to lose her money, and Mrs. Food is going to be sad, and those guys are going to win.”

“And Jerome is going to be in my apartment forever,” Wallace added, sitting down next to her. He was going to miss having his own place.

“And Chad is going to totally lose it,” Butterbean said. “I think he’s got some issues with Jerome.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. As if Chad’s issues weren’t totally obvious. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

The animals sank into a gloomy silence.

Madison took her plate into the kitchen and then tiptoed across the room to Butterbean.

“Bean. Psst,” she whispered, shooting a look back into the kitchen to make sure Mrs. Food wasn’t watching. Butterbean wagged her tail.

Madison squatted down and rubbed Butterbean’s ears. “Look, here’s the plan. When we go up to the apartment, I need you to keep your eyes open for anything weird. I have a theory.” She shot another look into the kitchen. “I think this whole thing is a scam, and I think those TV guys are behind it.”

“Well, close,” Walt sniffed.

Butterbean leaned into Madison.“Don’t worry. We’ve got our own plan. Plan Number One.”

“Shhh, keep quiet, okay?” Madison said, eyes on the kitchen. “Just watch for anything sketchy. I don’t know how they’re doing it, but it’s up to us to stop them. Okay?” She stared into Butterbean’s face significantly.

Butterbean wagged her tail.“We’re going to. I told you. It’s Plan Number One. It will have details and everything.” It was a secret, but Madison could probably be trusted. Especially since there wasn’t anything specific to tell.

“Good,” Madison said, giving Butterbean one last pat on the head. Then she hurried into the living room, doing her best to look casual. (She wasn’t very convincing.)

“She’s going to give the whole thing away,” Walt muttered, shaking her head as Madison clicked on the Television. It was the morning News.

“Hey, Oscar, check it out,” Butterbean said. “News.”

“Really?” Oscar peered through the bars of his cage. Then he stood up at attention. “Wait a minute!” He hopped up onto the perch to get a better look. “Wait a minute! Do you see that?”

An animated octopus was tap-dancing across the screen. It was wearing a beret.“Monsieur Octavio is known across the continent for his antics,” the Television reporter’s voice said. “And according to our sources, the two zoos are close to an agreement.”

“Is that the replacement octopus?” Butterbean walked up to the Television and pressed her nose to the screen. “Wow, no wonder he’s a celebrity!” She’d never seen Jerome do anything like that. He didn’t even wear hats.

“Butterbean, no!” Madison said, waving at her. “Back away from the TV. It’s bad for your eyes!”

“Guys.” Butterbean took a few steps back, just to appease Madison. (She wasn’t worried about her eyes.) “Is that Larry?”

Walt hopped up onto the back of a chair and leaned forward, watching intently. The octopus on the screen whipped off his beret and replaced it with a top hat. Then, in a dizzying display, he started shuffling a deck of cards using at least six of his tentacles.

“WOW!” Butterbean said, inching closer. “Card tricks, you guys! Do you SEE that?” She looked back over her shoulder to make sure Oscar and the others were watching. “That guy is GREAT.”

“That guy is trouble,” Oscar muttered.

Walt frowned.“Butterbean, that guy is a cartoon.”

“WHAT?” Butterbean whipped her head around so fast she almost fell over. “LARRY IS A CARTOON?”