The Animal Whisperers

. . .3. . .

"Bye, mom!" I call out.

"Where's Rob?" my mother asks, which is a good question. After a few minutes of searching, I find my seven year old brother smashing his Monster Trucks together in my mom and dad's room. I ruffle his chestnut-colored hair and he looks up for a second. "Want to play, Sam? You can be Blood Hunter," he picks up a red car painted to look like it's dripping blood out the windows.

"No, thanks, Robby. Maybe some other time," He shrugs, then goes back to hitting his trucks.

"Rob's playing in the bedroom," I respond.

"Where are you going again, Sam?" she calls out from the office. My mom is a nurse, and sometimes has to work on the weekends. My dad left a long time ago. I still don't know where, because I was a baby when he left. A lot of people ask if I miss him. I don't want to sound like a monster, but the truth is, I don't. He left us right before Robby was born, too early for me to really remember him. And if he didn't care enough to stay with mom, then I don't care to remember him. The only thing I think of when he's mentioned is his scruffy brown beard. For all we know, he's shaved it off.

The only life I remember is with Mom, Robby and I. Mom comes home stressed a lot because she has a full-time nursing job. I couldn't imagine working with dying people all day, but Mom is passionate about her nursing job, so I watch Robby on the nights she stays out late. She's home all day today, filling out paperwork, so it's the perfect day to go to the pet store and find some more answers.

"I'm going to the pet store, Mom!"

My mother comes out from the kitchen and looks at me sadly. "Sam, I know you love animals, and I'm sorry, but we still can't get a pet just yet. Robby's still a bit on the young side, and we have enough for one family to manage right now."

"That's okay, Mom," I say quickly, realizing that she thinks I'm going to the pet store because I want to get a pet. "I'm just looking. Really." I add a smile for emphasis. "It's so fun looking at all of the different animals!" I silently cringe. That might have been a bit over the top.

Mom smiles and hugs me. "Thanks for being so understanding, Sam. Go have some fun, and remember not to talk to strangers. (I roll my eyes; Mom gives this speech a lot) Is Christina meeting you there?"

"No, another friend I made . . .at school." Technically, I met Shane in front of Beech Middle, but I still feel bad about my white lie. I say goodbye to my mom, then jog over to Murdley's Pet Store, which is about a block from our house. I see Shane waiting at the front door. "Hey," he greets me. "Ready to go in?"

"Yup," I reply, and Shane enters the pet store. I follow behind him. The doors open with a jingle, and a tall, skinny man with black hair and a close-cut beard gives a cheery wave while bagging a container of guinea pig pellets for a young girl and her mom. I'm walking after Shane when suddenly an explosion of high-pitched noise hits my ears. I wince and hold my head as a million squeaky conversations erupt around me.

"Stop shoving—there's only so much space on the wheel, Bertie!"

"I'm not shoving! You're the one who jumped up here!"

"Look! Another Big Thing!"

"Is it a Food Giver? Maybe it'll give us some pellets!"

"The last Big Thing that came by just squealed and tapped the glass!"

"My ears still hurt from that!"

"Remember when that one Big Thing slipped us a carrot? That juicy delight was heavenly!"

I can only make out a few sentences from the conversations. They're all going on around me, so loud that I can't hear myself think. I can't hear anything else but the constant chatter of tiny voices, surrounding me and closing in. . .

"Sam, are you okay?"

Someone is shaking my shoulder, and when my eyes clear, I see Shane crouched next to me, a concerned look in his eyes.

"Woah." I stand up shakily with Shane's help. "Yeah, I can definitely hear the rodents. But I can't hear any other animals."

The roar of voices has calmed down to a low buzz now that I can hear our voices, but surprisingly, even when I strain my ears towards the other exhibits, the rest of the animals are their normal, silent selves.

"That's strange. . ." Shane rips a hand through his thick, blonde hair, mussing it. "But it does confirm our theory. I can't hear anything from here, though."

"Maybe you need to be closer to the exhibits," I impulsively grab his hand, pulling him towards the large animal exhibits.

"Your turn."