Eliza slowly leaned forward onto her knees and peaked over the door handle out the window of the car. Just as her eyes got high enough to see the pavement below the car, she saw a streak of brown hair zip out of sight, moving very quickly past the car. She pressed her face against the glass, trying to see where the shape went, but could only catch glimpses of it as it darted and weaved through the lines of cars that backed up as far as she could see. "There it went honey, did you see it?" Eliza's mother asked. "I saw it mommy, I saw it. But it was too fast." Soon several men in blue city uniforms came running from the same direction the brown form had come from. As they came closer, Eliza's mother motioned to them the path the thing had taken. As they passed, Eliza waved, but the men were too focused on their work to notice. "Will they hurt him mommy?" "No honey, they just need to get him back onto the truck so he doesn't get hit by a car or something. It's very dangerous for him to be running out on the roads like this." Eliza sat back and looked through the windshield at the large truck the men had come from. It was very large, like the trucks that brought food to the grocery store, but instead of being white with a picture of a cow or some cereal on the side, this truck was metal colored, and had lots of little holes in rows along each side. The front driving part of the truck was laying on its side, and lots of white steam was coming out from under the hood, but the back part of the truck, the metal part with all of the holes, was still standing up, because it was stuck under the low bridge. There was a large door on the back of the truck which was bent open like a soup can, and Eliza could see some large piles of hay inside. After a long silence, Eliza tugged at her mother's arm. "What's his name?" "Who's name honey?" "The mothman, what's his name?" Eliza's mother chuckled. "It's a mammoth honey. A wooly mammoth. I don't think he has a name." Eliza considered this for a moment. "No name? How does he know when they are talking to him?" "Maybe they just call him 'mammoth', or 'wooly'." "But if he doesn't have a name, and they are running after him and want to make him come, then he won't know they are calling him, and he'll never come back." "That's a good point. Maybe you should give him a name." Eliza leaned forward again and took a long look back at the men in blue suits moving in between the cars. It looked as if they had lost sight of the little mammoth and were now each going in a different direction, looking here and there behind and under cars and around the signs and tall bushes along the roadside.