Etwart, The search for his roots - I

Etwart has a good life as the only pygmy Cypriot hippopotamus in the world-famous San Diego Zoo. But every day he wakes up with a hole in his heart.  He wants to know the story of his family and the deeds of his forehippos-- maybe even find some of his relatives. So with his friend junior zookeeper Katterly Meadows he sets out on a journey of discovery.

Read the whole story from I-VI in order.

"How's that bok choy, Etwart?"
Katterly Meadows, Mediterranean Small Mammal Care Summer Intern I, hosed down the sun rocks in the habitat of the San Diego Zoo's star attraction, Etwart the pygmy hippopotamus.
"Urmmf."
"That doesn't sound so good. What's wrong? It's your favorite." The bok choy was a special kind of spicy green grown by Heather's father, an organic farmer just outside La Mesa. That stuff gives him gas, thought Heather. But usually he doesn't start groaning until after he's eaten it.
"Miss Meadows, I am heartsick," said Etwart.
She turned, taking the pressure off the spray gun. The little hippo was lying next to his mound of bok choy, gazing at the reflection of himself in his swimming pool. A tear fell down into his luxuriant bottom lashes, then dropped into the pool, sending tiny circles along the surface of the water.
She sat down next to him and stroked his snout. He loved having his snout stroked, almost as much as having his crinkly ears tickled. This always calmed him down after a long day of being stared at by thousands of zoo visitors.
"I've been doin' a lot of thinking," said Etwart. "Ooh. Mmmhmm. Over the eyes a little. Right there. Urmmm..." His eyelashes waved like fans. "I got no family here in San Diego, and I'm awful lonesome."
"Sure you are," said Katterly. She was planning to major in zoology when she went to college, with a specialty in endangered species. She knew that Etwart was the last of his kind-- as far as anybody knew. But the zoo administration had decided not to tell him.
"I mean-- no offense to you. You're my best friend."
"None taken. I wish we could get some of your family out here," she said. She hoped there were still some pygmy hippos left. But she didn't know. None had been spotted in years.
"This life ain't for ever'body," said Etwart. He always told people he had a Southern accent because he came from South Cyprus. "It's a non-stop paparazzi parade. I never cottoned to the idea of swimming in a glass-bottom pool."
"You do a great job for your fans."
"I know. But what I really want is to go back to the old country, and search out some of my hippo history. I've never known my own kind, Miss Meadows."
"You know you can call me Kat," she said, and patted his snout. His head was about as big as Coachella Valley watermelon, and nearly as smooth-skinned. A very good-looking celebrity hippo indeed. But she hated to see him so down.
"Do you think I could just... hop on a plane and go have a look-see?"
They'd spent many a foggy morning poring over maps of Cyprus. Etwart knew it was an island about three-quarters the size of Connecticut, tucked in the right-hand corner of the Mediterranean sea, like a big pork chop in a shake-and-bake baggie. He knew it had a long history, and some of the people there didn't like each other. An army had come from the nation of Turkey and taken over some of the land, and was still there. But there was no information about current hippo habitat, only that the first pygmy hippopotami had swum to the island from Egypt (100 miles away) over 10,000 years ago. Etwart said they had smelled the wild capers-- a special, good-tasting plant-- from that far off.
"Hop on a plane?" Katterly frowned. "Cyprus is a long way away."
Another tear plopped into Etwart's swimming pool. "Anyways, I ain't got no money to get there."
"Maybe my dad--" Katterly caught the next words before they came tumbling out-- could help us. He was throwing all his money into the business. And what was she thinking? Us? She had a summer job, and responsibilities, and in the Fall she would enter the ninth grade at Luther Burbank World Biosphere Magnet High School. Goodness, she had to study her flora and fauna, or be left behind.
"Kat?"
She and Etwart turned at the same time. It was her boss, Vikram Singh, in his khaki jumpsuit and turban. She scrambled up and wiped her pants, hoping he would not notice the sun rocks had only been half-hosed.
"Kat, this came for you."
It was a letter from the Fullbright Commission on Biological Research.

Dear Miss Meadows,

You have been identified by your eighth-grade science teacher as a student with high potential in the fields of biology and zoology. We would like to encourage you to apply for a grant to do research abroad in any of a number of worthy habitat zones.

This year's list includes...

There were about a dozen different places around the world, including Tasmania and the Galapagos Islands. But Katterly leaped in the air when she read

--Cyprus. Wetlands and riverine areas.

You and an adult companion would spend two weeks in the target zone, doing first-hand research in your topic. All expenses would be paid by the Fullbright Commission...

"What is it?" asked Vikram. "An award?"
"No," said Katterly. "Something better-- much better."

Comments

[Theriomorph]

Etwart! Hippopotamaki mou! Little river horse, I see an adventure in your future. Don't forget to write.

[DF]

Etwart says, "And a eff-harry-stow to you, Miss Theriomorph, and a tha-tax-a-na-boomy. Excuse my Greek. Friends forever, Etwart."