Free The Beast of Cretacea by Todd Strasser Page A

and the man with the beard were back with Ms. Hussey. Ishmael and Archie were in the exercise room, swinging on overhead bars. As soon as Ishmael spotted the grown-ups, he felt anxious. Usually when people came back for a second look, they ended up taking him with them, at least temporarily.
    Sensing that a child might be chosen, the youngsters in the room stopped playing. Ishmael and Archie crept toward the playhouse near the wall, Archie walking with his hands, his legs dragging behind. They slipped inside, hoping the visitors would forget about them and leave.
    Footsteps echoed in the silent room, and then Ms. Hussey’s sour face appeared through the playhouse window. “I’d cooperate if I were you,” she warned Ishmael under her breath. “The people who come here looking for children want the ones who are young, cute, and cooperative. The longer you play these games, the more likely it is that you’ll never be chosen.”
    But that, of course, was exactly what Ishmael and Archie were hoping for. The boys stayed inside and huddled close to each other. Exasperated, Ms. Hussey said, “It’s no use. You’ll never separate them. If you insist on trying, all you’ll do is create a great deal of trouble for all of us.”
    The tall man eased himself to his knees and gently pushed open the playhouse door. “You two must be pretty good friends, huh?”
    Ishmael and Archie remained silent.
    “My wife, Petra, and I would like a foster child,” the man said. “But we’re only allowed to take one of you.”
    The boys backed farther into the playhouse. Now the petite woman with the bright eyes kneeled down beside her husband. “We would so love to have you both in our family. We tried to get them to change their minds, but they just won’t.”
    Archie squeezed his eyes shut. Ishmael watched the grown-ups warily. No one had ever spoken to them like this before, and he didn’t know what to make of it.
    Ms. Hussey harrumphed loudly. “I really don’t see the point in going through all this. You’re just wasting everyone’s time.”
    The tall man looked over his shoulder at her. “Just a few more moments.” He turned back to the boys. “What if we let the two of you decide who comes with us? Would that make it easier?”
    “Oh, for Earth’s sake!” Ms. Hussey blurted out in exasperation.
    Ishmael held the man’s gaze. Had he understood him correctly? Slowly, he began to creep forward. Archie stared at him uncertainly but didn’t resist.
    “Well, well, isn’t this interesting,” Ms. Hussey clucked. “The younger one must really like you two. Either that, or he’s gotten tired of having that little cripple around all the time.”
    Leaving the playhouse, Ishmael crossed the room and collected Archie’s leg braces and crutches . . . which he brought back and offered to the couple.
    The woman drew a loud breath. Her husband took her hand in his. Ishmael crawled back into the playhouse and pressed his forehead against Archie’s.
    “Pay them no mind,” Ms. Hussey told the couple. “I’m sure it’s just a trick meant to make you feel even guiltier about separating them.”
    “Have they ever done it before?” asked the man.
    “Well, no,” Ms. Hussey admitted. “But there’s always a first time.”
    The two boys stayed inside the playhouse for more than a minute with their foreheads pressed together. Then Archie began to drag himself out. Ishmael remained where he was, tears running down his cheeks as the bright-eyed woman drew the whimpering Archie into her arms. Archie’s eyes stayed fixed on Ishmael.
    The tall man slowly rose to his full height and gave Ms. Hussey a meaningful look. “Now tell me that you honestly think these boys should be separated.”
    For once, Ms. Hussey appeared uncertain. She swallowed. “But you don’t have the space.”
    It was then that the stocky bearded man with the broad forehead and widow’s peak took the director aside and began to speak to her in hushed, forceful