“I knew the guy was trouble,” Mickey muttered.
“So what do we do now?”
“Our job, son. We do our job.” Mickey levered himself up, swinging his puffy, snake-bitten foot up on the coffee table. “I don’t care what their stupid paperwork says-I’m the only one in charge of my animals. Mr. Dork Badger can go fly a kite.”
“It’s Derek Badger.”
“Ha! You think it matters to these critters what his stupid name is?”
“No, Pop.”
“Know what Beulah would say? ‘All you stupid humans taste the same!’ ”
Wahoo found himself wondering if that was really true.
FOUR
When his mother called from China, Wahoo was brushing his teeth.
He heard his dad say, “Susan, your boys are miserable! Please fly home!”
Wahoo spit out the toothpaste froth and ran to the living room. Mickey cupped a hand over the phone and whispered: “It’s eight in the morning in Shanghai-she’s finishing breakfast.”
“Can I talk with her?”
“Egg noodles again-she’s gonna overdose on carbs.”
“Please?” Wahoo said.
Mickey handed over the phone.
“So much drama,” Wahoo’s mom said to him. “For heaven’s sake, doesn’t your father ever give it a rest? You think I want to be here?”
“We took a big TV job. Actually he’s doing better.”
“But what about the headaches?”
“Gone, he says.”
“Keep a close watch on him,” Wahoo’s mother advised.
She asked about school. Wahoo said he thought he did okay on his finals.
“Even Spanish?”
“That was a killer,” he admitted.
“As long as you tried your best.”
“Miss you, Mom.”
“I miss you, too, big guy. This really sucks.”
Wahoo swallowed hard to keep his voice from cracking. He didn’t want her to know how bummed he felt because she was so far away. “I found your hotel on Google Earth,” he said. “Looks pretty sweet from the satellite.”