by Kasie West
He slowed his walk. “My seventy-five-cent bag of candy was the highlight of your night?”
“I know, pathetic, right?”
“I should’ve invited you over for the movie marathon. We could’ve added E.T. to the list.” He smirked at me.
“You were grounded.”
“After hearing your story, even my mom would’ve relaxed the rules for that night.”
I laughed. “So you’re saying, even your mom would’ve found me pathetic?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Lance was off to the left holding the macaw on his gloved hands. Rachel was there as well, and I wondered if she had requested Seth to be at her station. She waved at us and we both waved back. I waited for Seth to peel off and head that way but he stayed by my side. Was he walking me?
We stepped over a roped-off area that said Staff Only and continued on to the building behind it.
“Well,” I said, but I realized Seth was coming in after me, and the door shut behind us. It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim lighting in the hall.
“This should be fun,” Seth said. “It’s been a while since I’ve recorded meal plans.”
“You’re in here today?” I asked.
“I am now.” He winked.
I shook my head. “Seth, I’m fine. Please don’t change your station just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I’m going to make it up to you.”
“What?”
“Your crappy birthday.”
“By coming with me to food prep?”
“Yes, my presence makes everything better, right?” he said, then gave a single laugh. “Of course not. My makeup birthday event will be something way better.”
“You don’t have to make anything up to me. Believe me when I say that the wrong has been more than righted.”
“How?”
“Oh … uh … ” I won the lottery. I won the lottery. Why couldn’t I just say that out loud to him? What was still holding me back? Was this still about Rachel and how I thought Seth and I weren’t good enough friends? Or was it about my friends and how I couldn’t get attached to a boy no matter how sweet he was because we had a pact? And college, think about college, Maddie, not how cute this boy is. I shook off all those very unhelpful thoughts. “My friends took me bowling.”
“That’s more than righted?”
“Bowling,” I said.
Seth laughed. “For a girl as smart as you, I think you need a lesson on what righting a wrong means. This is one subject I seem to know more about than you. So prepare to learn.”
I leaned against the door. “I’m prepared.”
He shook his head. “Not now. Righting wrongs takes time and preparation. You’ll see.”
“Really, Seth, please don’t think another second about it.” I was the last person anyone should feel sorry for.
“Too late.” He held open the interior door, the one that led to a big kitchen. There were refrigerators that held meat and fruit. Canisters of bird feed lined the walls. And there was a big prep station in the middle where a zookeeper was preparing the meals that would be fed to the animals. I sighed, and walked through.
In front of the zookeeper was a cage with live mice. We had one snake on site in the zoo. A six-foot python. He didn’t eat every day and I didn’t have to work food prep too often, so it had been a long time since I’d had to think about his meals. But there they scurried in their white fluffy cuteness.
“Why are mice so much cuter than rats?” I frowned and watched the mice run around the cage, oblivious to their fate. I looked away and grabbed the binder off the cupboard to record the meals the zookeeper was preparing. I didn’t want to think about the fate of those mice. I needed to get my mind off of it. I looked over at Seth, who had his own binder and was pulling down a few canisters of birdseed.
“Outside of school and the zoo and moviemaking, what’s your favorite thing to do?” I asked Seth suddenly.
He gave me a half smile. “I like to surf and play beach volleyball.”
“You’re a beach bum?” I asked. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“I also like to read and watch movies. What about you, Maddie? What are your hobbies?”
I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. There was nothing to say. Was learning a hobby? “Not bowling, that’s for sure.”
He raised his eyebrows as the zookeeper dropped some insects into a container that I assumed were for the resident spider.
“We need more spiders at this zoo,” I said. “We only have the one, right?”
The zookeeper perked up at this question. “Only? It is the largest species of spider in the world.”
“So it counts as five?” Seth asked, straight-faced.
“A house of spiders would be amazing,” the zookeeper said. “We could bring them in from all over the world. I don’t know that any other zoo has anything like that.” He seemed to shake off that thought. “If only we had an unlimited budget, right?”
“It would be nice. But wait, I thought the giant huntsman was the biggest species of spider,” I said.
“It depends on if you mean by weight or diameter. The giant huntsman takes the largest diameter award.”
Seth bumped my elbow and said quietly, “You need to find some hobbies, live a little.”
After food prep, I tagged along with the zookeeper to feed Heeboo. In the wild, anteaters eat termites and ants (of course) but in the zoo (or at least in ours) they were fed a blend of cat food, spinach, eggs, and fruit. It smelled horrible but Heeboo lapped it right up with her long sticky tongue. While she ate, I got the perfect view of the new little addition she was carrying.
“The baby is getting so big,” I said.
The zookeeper dumped the remainder of the food in Heeboo’s bowl. “Yes, before we know it, he’ll be roaming around on his own.”
I reached through the fence and patted Heeboo’s wiry fur, cooing words about her beauty. Her habitat was so small. Just a square of dirt and a little hut for her to retreat to. The hut’s roof looked like it was about to cave in. I’d have to let Stan know.
My phone buzzed with a text from Beau: I’m going to be late.
My brother had dropped me off at the zoo that morning. Even though he didn’t use it most of the time, we still shared a car. I didn’t feel like I could buy my own until my lottery money officially came in. That was too big a purchase for me to make without seeing the evidence that this money existed. I still felt that at any moment the lottery would call and say, Never mind, that number you thought was a two was really a five so you don’t get the money after all.
How late? I texted back.
Maybe another thirty minutes … or so. I’m looking at a condo.
Did it really take that long to look at an apartment? Good thing I was in my favorite place.
“How did I know you’d still be here?”
Seth was walking up the path toward us. He had his video camera out and was pointing it at Heeboo and her baby.
“I’m waiting for my brother,” I said.
“I was talking to the anteater,” Seth said.
I was sitting on the ground so I hit his leg and he laughed.
“How come you haven’t left yet?” I asked.
“I wanted to get some footage of the zoo. I never know when I might need it for filler material in a short film.”
“Heeboo should be the star, not filler.”
“That is an opinion only you have, I believe.”
I smiled, stood, and wiped off the back of my jeans.
“Hold this.” Seth handed me his camera and went to a large tree in the middle of the walkway. He tugged on a lower branch.
“What are you doing?”
“The view up here will be great.”
“You’re really going to climb a tree?”
“The things I do for my art, right?” He swung himself up into the tree and climbed to the next branch, then reached down for his camera.
&nbs
p; I placed it in his hand. He strapped it around his chest, then reached his hand down again.
I looked around to see if he had left something on the ground that I hadn’t seen.
“No. You,” he said.
“Me?”
“Yes, come up here. The view is amazing.”
“Oh, that’s okay. My brother is almost here.”
“He is?”
“No, not really.”
Seth laughed. “Come on.” His hand was still extended.
“Okay, fine. If I fall and break my arm, that’s on you.”
I clasped my hand around his and he helped me climb to the branch where he sat. His back was leaned up against the trunk and I sat sideways in front of him. I took in the view. I could see our resident camel and the tropical bird enclosure in the distance. Seth had turned his camera back on and was pointing it at me. I held up my hand, but he gently moved it aside and then asked, “Maddie, why do you love animals so much?”
I avoided looking at the camera and instead stared off into the distance at one of the many monkeys. “Doesn’t everybody?”
He laughed. “No.”
“I don’t know. Why does anyone love anything? I guess it’s just a feeling. Something that makes me want to act, to learn, to do more, to be better. That’s how I feel when I look at animals. I want to know everything about them, learn how to help them. Does that make sense?”
Seth had lowered the camera a little and was looking over the top of it instead of through the screen. “Perfect sense.”
“What about you? Why do you like filmmaking?”
“Same. It’s one of the only things I get excited about. The thing that motivates me to do.”
I smiled. “Exactly.”
He pushed a button on his camera, turning it off, and then put his finger to his lips. He was looking at something over my shoulder, so I followed his gaze. Carol was walking up the path straight toward our tree. I pulled my feet up onto the branch so they were no longer dangling and inched closer to Seth. My right shoulder now touched his chest.
I thought for sure she was coming to yell at us about climbing trees. But she just walked right under us and continued along the path. I let out the breath I’d been holding and Seth gave a quiet laugh.
“You’re determined to make Carol hate me,” I whispered.
“Determined is a strong word.”
I smiled and my phone buzzed in my pocket. As I moved to pull it out of my pocket, I lost my balance. Seth put his arm around my shoulder, steadying me.
“Thank you,” I said, my heart galloping from the near fall.
“I can’t have you breaking an arm or you’d never trust me again.”
“This is true.” Now that I was stable, I pulled out my phone and sighed at the new text from Beau.
“What’s wrong?” Seth asked.
“My brother needs another hour before he can come get me,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
Seth smiled sympathetically. “Do you want a ride home?”
“Yes, please.”
Seth drove an older blue Accord. Inside, there were empty water bottles in cupholders and a couple pamphlets on the ground. As I buckled my seat belt, I couldn’t help but notice the pamphlet by my foot.
“So you went to film camp this year?” I asked as Seth drove out of the zoo parking lot.
“No. I was looking into it but in the end it was too expensive,” Seth said, frowning out at the road.
“Your parents don’t support your art?” I asked as we came to a stoplight.
“Meaning, don’t pay for it?”
“Yes.”
“No, they don’t.”
“And what about the encouraging kind of support?”
“They don’t think any of my films are going to pay the bills. But they’re happy to watch them.”
“I want to watch them.”
“What? Oh, no. They’re all works in progress. I don’t really show them to anyone.” I’d never ever seen a side of Seth that wasn’t all confidence … until now.
I smiled at his stammering. “So you’re a filmmaker who doesn’t want an audience?”
He laughed. “Right now. Yes.”
“Well, when you’re ready, I’m here.” I cringed. I always seemed to realize too late how things sounded after they came out of my mouth. I backtracked. “For watching films. Your films, I mean.”
We were approaching my house. Seth pulled up at the curb and turned to me, flashing a quick grin. “I knew what you meant. And thanks.”
I sat on my bed and stared at my bank balance on my phone. Thirty-three million, five hundred fifty-six thousand, two hundred six dollars and forty-two cents.
It had taken almost four weeks to arrive—less time than they estimated—but there it was, every last penny of it, sitting in my bank account.
I was still trying to catch my breath. My eyes scanned the numbers again. The phone felt slippery in my hand and I wiped my palms on my pajama bottoms.
Seth had accused me of not knowing what it truly meant to right a wrong. I was pretty sure I knew more than most people. This moment was the ultimate righting. It covered any past or future wrong that would ever happen in my life.
Beau poked his head in my room. “Hey, Mom made breakfast.”
“Made breakfast?”
“I know. It’s a miracle, so you better get out here.”
I’d already stared at my phone too long. I really didn’t have time this morning to add another unscheduled event without being late for school. But when my phone had alerted me of bank activity with a happy ding when I woke up, how could I not look? I pounded my feet on the ground and let out an excited squeal. Then I jumped up to follow Beau.
I paused at my bedroom door and pulled up my bank account app again. There was no point in delaying. I could make everyone in this house feel the same giddiness I was feeling. I clicked a couple transfer buttons on my screen, then left my room with a smile.
“Good morning,” Mom said when I joined them in the kitchen, adding a stack of pancakes to a plate in the center of the table.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked. Did my mom somehow have viewing access to my bank account?
“It’s just been a while since we’ve had breakfast together.”
“You mean since never?” Beau said, pouring syrup on his pancakes.
My dad slid a pancake onto my plate. I cleared my throat. “This is perfect because today … ” I drummed on the table with my fingers. “We are all officially millionaires.”
“What?” Mom asked from the stove, pausing in the middle of flipping another pancake.
“I transferred your money a second ago.”
Beau jumped out of his seat and gave me a syrupy kiss on the cheek. “You are seriously the best sister in the universe.”
“And all it took to earn that title was one million dollars?” I asked him. “I don’t know how everyone doesn’t win that title.”
“I’m moving out,” Beau said.
“You found a place?” I asked.
“Yep, last week. It’s amazing.”
“That’s great,” my dad said.
“I want to quit my job,” my mom blurted out before Beau’s news had even settled.
My dad shifted his gaze from my brother to my mom. “What?”
“I’ve been working double time for the last several years and I want a break.”
He smiled. “Then take one. You definitely should.”
“I should?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he said. “This money will more than tide us over until I find a job.”
“For sure,” I agreed. My parents were in a good place now and I couldn’t have been happier. “You deserve a break, Mom. You two should go somewhere fun with this time you’ll have now.”
Mom smiled at Dad. “Maybe we should. Because I’ll probably get bored and need to go back to work in a few months. Preferably somewhere outside of the health-care profession. Maybe I’ll work in a greet
ing card shop.”
“A greeting card shop?” I asked, confused.
“I like the idea of only interacting with people who are about to celebrate something special and are picking out a card for the occasion.”
“What about people buying cards because someone just died?” Beau said.
“Or an I’m sorry I screwed up card,” my dad said.
“Or an it sucks you have cancer card,” I added.
My mom flung the pancake she held in our general direction with a laugh. It landed on my brother’s arm. “You just had to ruin it,” she said.
Beau tore the pancake in half and threw one at me and one at Dad. We shielded our faces and then devolved into a food fight.
That was how I ended up standing in the school office, forty-five minutes late to school and still smelling faintly of maple syrup. The administrative assistant was telling me about what she would buy if someone gave her a million dollars—a college fund for her two-year-old daughter, a house, and a charitable donation to the veterans because her grandfather was a veteran.
I nodded politely. “That would be a good way to spend it.”
She smiled. “You are a lucky girl. One very lucky girl.”
“Believe me, I know it.” And I was beyond grateful.
She handed me a note that would get me in first period, and I left before she was able to stretch her fictitious million even further than she already had.
As I walked down the cement stairs, a guy called out from fifty feet away. “Maddie! Wait up!”
I did not know this guy but slowed my pace, anyway.
“Hi,” he said when he was by my side. His dark hair was long in the middle and shorter on the sides, like maybe he sometimes fashioned it into a Mohawk. But not today. Today it flopped over his dark eyes.
“Hi.”
“I’m Leo.”
I almost said my name but realized he already knew it. “Good to meet you,” I said instead.
“I’m in a band.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know what my band needs to take us to the next level?” He pushed his hair out of his eyes.
“No, what?”
“An investor.”
“An investor?”
“Hear me out. We need studio time and better equipment and a really good gig.”
