Mickey mumbled something sarcastic under his breath and headed back to the house.

“Look, we can still make this work,” Wahoo said to Raven.

“Not if your father insists on being difficult.”

“I’ll deal with Pop, okay?”

“You’re only a kid, no offense.”

Wahoo tried to remain polite. “I’m his kid. He listens to me.”

“And you guys need the money, right?” Raven looked around at the pens and cages. “It’s got to be expensive, keeping all these animals. This would be a nice payday for your family, no?”

Wahoo felt his throat tighten. “Tell Mr. Badger we’re on.”

Raven was smiling. “How old are you, Wahoo?”

“Old enough to get it done,” he said.

Back at the house, he found his father lying on the couch with an ice pack over his forehead.

Wahoo sat down beside him. “Pop, this show is really important.”

“So’s Alice.” Mickey reached for the TV remote. “Hey, look what I TiVo’d the other night.”

He touched a button and an episode of Expedition Survival! came on the screen-Derek Badger, roaming a rainy jungle in Costa Rica. A teaser at the beginning showed the star sleeping in a hammock made of vines while a fat hairy spider crawled up his bare arm.

Wahoo’s father shook a scarred finger at the TV. “Five bucks says he kills that thing and fries it up for dinner!”

“I’m not taking that bet.”

“You know there’s a cameraman standing two feet away with a can of Raid, ready to blast that poor, pitiful tarantula.”

“It’s showbiz,” said Wahoo.

“The guy’s such a tool!”

“I know, Pop, but we need the work.”

They watched the program for a little while longer. Sure enough, Derek Badger pretended to awaken just before the creeping spider reached his neck. Then he knocked it away and stomped it with a boot. He didn’t fry the flattened victim, though; he grilled it over a small fire, all the time smacking his wormy lips and yammering about how he’d narrowly escaped a horrible, painful death.