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The Tiger’s Eye
“Here they are,” Dirk, the zookeeper, said. He placed a small tiger cub in KC’s lap and handed another cub to Marshall, KC’s best friend. “They’ve just eaten, so they should fall asleep.”
“Thank you,” KC said. Then she sneezed. Twice.
“Are you allergic to cats?” Dirk asked KC. He was tall and his long arms were tanned. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and cargo pants with zippered pockets. A thin silver bracelet dangled around one wrist.
KC sneezed again. “No, we have three cats at home and they never make mesneeze,” she said. “But maybe I’m allergic to tigers!”
Dirk laughed. “See you in twenty minutes,” he said. “I need to check on mama tiger.” He left the room and closed the door.
The tiger cub on KC’s lap opened its mouth and yawned. The two-month-old Sumatran tiger was the size of one of KC’s cats.
“You are so cute!” KC said, tickling the drowsy tiger’s belly.
“Gee, thanks, KC. You’re kind of cute, too,” said Marshall with a grin.
“Not you!” KC said. “I mean little Lucy here.”
“Lucy is a dumb name for a tiger,” Marshall commented. “I mean, I guess it’s okay for a tiny cub. But can you seecalling a five-hundred-pound tiger Lucy?”
KC Corcoran and Marshall Li were at the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. Their friend Dr. Phillip Tutu was the zoo’s head veterinarian. He had invited them to play with the baby Sumatran tigers in a small room across from the tiger enclosure.
“Ricky is a pretty silly name, too,” KC said. Lucy’s twin brother, Ricky, was curled up on Marshall’s lap. “But in a little while they’ll get their real names.”
“Tell me again about this party tonight,” Marshall said.
“A rich family from China is coming here to donate a lot of money to the zoo to help the tigers,” KC said. “They have a daughter who’s twelve. She gets to pick names for the tigers.”
“Cool. Maybe she’ll name this little guy Fang,” Marshall said.
KC shook her head. “The president said she’s giving them special Sumatran names,” she said. KC’s stepfather, Zachary Thornton, was the President of the United States. She lived in the White House with him and her mom.
Marshall looked at the sleeping tiger cub in his lap. “Where is Sumatra, anyway?” he asked.
“Somewhere in Indonesia. It’s part of Asia,” KC said. “I found it on the big map in my room.”
The door opened again and Dr. Tutu stepped inside. He wore a loose shirt and crisp white pants. He was carrying a leather briefcase in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other.
“How are you two getting along with these famous babies?” he asked. He set his briefcase on the floor.
“Fine,” KC said. “So far all they want to do is sleep.”
Dr. Tutu laughed. “You’re lucky,” he said. “When they wake up, they’ll be running all over the place.”
Dr. Tutu moved aside. A girl with dark hair was standing behind him. “KC and Marshall, say hello to Sunwoo Chu,” he said. “All the way from China.”
The girl was a little bit taller than KC. She wore a T-shirt, dark blue shorts, and sandals on her feet.
“Hello, I am happy to meet you,” Sunwoo said. She sat on the floor next to KC. “My father and your stepfather are having a meeting at the White Housetoday. They will talk about how to help save tigers from extinction.”
Marshall gave Ricky a pat on the head. “It’s hard to think of the world with no tigers,” he said.
“My father and President Thornton are trying to find ways to make the people happy, and the tigers as well,” Sunwoo said. “Perhaps the Tigers Eye will bring luck.”
“What’s the Tiger’s Eye?” KC asked.
“A special magic jewel,” answered Sunwoo. She nodded at the baby tigers. “May I hold one, please?”
“Sure.” Marshall transferred Ricky to Sunwoo’s lap. The little cub opened its eyes, then let out a small growl.
“Oh, I’m sorry I disturbed your nap!” Sunwoo
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