Menagerie

by Kristy Tate

  “Then this conversion, this pollution, destroys our world as we know it!” Angel’s voice rang with panic.

  “There’s more to this world than Elizabeth’s ranch,” Lizbet assured the animals.

  “This pasture is our world!” Trotter stomped his hooves to emphasize his words.

  Angel’s eyes widened with fear.

  “Okay, stay calm,” Lizbet said, trying to sound soothing. “I’ll see what—if anything—I can do.”

  But after a few hours at her computer, she came to the sad realization that Elizabeth’s ranch probably would make a wonderful resort. It was close enough to Queen Anne to be convenient, but far enough away to ensure privacy and a rural setting. The house already had six bedrooms and the attic could easily be converted to allow for a few more—especially if they added on over the garage. The property had at least seven outbuildings, not including the garage and they could also be converted into guest rooms.

  No.

  She couldn’t think this way. The property belonged to Elizabeth and if she didn’t want a dude ranch she shouldn’t be wrangled into one. Lizbet had to prove why a dude ranch was a bad idea.

  But wait. Why? The property belonged to Elizabeth. That should be the end of the argument. But knowing Josie, it probably wouldn’t be. So how could Lizbet change Josie’s mind? A kernel of an idea took shape.

  Elizabeth banged into the kitchen and slammed her canning pot onto the table. “We’re going to meet Josie for lunch tomorrow at her office.” She lined up a bunch of carrots on the cutting board and selected a long sharp butcher knife. “She doesn’t have time to meet us today.” Elizabeth began to whack at the carrots, whittling them down into sticks with such force that Lizbet nearly felt sorry for them.

  “Tomorrow?” Perfect, Lizbet thought. That would be enough time.

  #

  Long after Elizabeth had gone to bed, Lizbet crawled from her own. Pulling on her overalls and a soft hoodie, she padded from her room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen where she stole a block of cheddar cheese from the refrigerator. After slipping on her boots in the mudroom, she cracked open the back door and silently stole across the yard, heading for the barn.

  A thick mist hung in the air, shrouding the moon. The animals’ warm breath rose in the sky. Lizbet shivered, knowing what she was about to ask was dangerous, even life-threatening.

  It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the barn’s gloomy interior. She inhaled deeply, sucking in the animal smells mingled with hay and leather. While the horses and goats slept, Lizbet knew an entire population of creatures scurried inside the walls, under the floor, and across the barn beams. These were the animals she needed to speak to.

  Squatting, she took the cheese from the pocket of her hoodie and began to crumble it between her fingers. She smiled when she noticed a sudden stillness. She’d gotten the attention of the rodents.

  “Friends,” she spoke into the darkness, “I need your help.”

  No one answered, but she imagined dozens if not hundreds of twitching noses and trembling whiskers in the semi-darkness.

  “As you may have heard, there are plans to convert our ranch into a resort. As I’m sure you are aware, this will be life-altering and even life-threatening for most of you. You depend on the pastures surrounding the ranch in some way. For many of you, it’s your home, a food source, and a place of peace and security. Take away the pastures, and for most of you, your quality of life will skid downhill.”

  Lizbet tossed chunks of cheese into the dark. Claw sounds skittered across the floor. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but frankly, we are in this together. I don’t want Elizabeth to lose her home any more than you want to lose yours.”

  A few bright eyes emerged from the darkness.

  “I have a plan. It will be dangerous.”

  A large rat scuttled in front of her. He sat back on his haunches and snaked his tail in front of him. “I’m Raphael, the rat king. I would like to hear your proposal.”

  “I can’t promise it will work,” Lizbet said just before launching into her plan and setting a large burlap sack on the floor in front of her.

  #

  A few minutes later, Lizbet cinched burlap bag closed and hefted it over her shoulder as she climbed onto Trotter’s back. “I’m sorry about the close quarters,” she said to the mice and rats scrambling inside the bag. “This will be easier for everyone if you try and hold still.”

  “How far is the journey, miss?” Trotter asked.

  “According to the GPS, nine miles,” Lizbet told him. “But it will be faster for us because we can cut through fields and woods.”

  “Nine miles. But I’ve never been nine miles!”

  Lizbet patted his neck and tightened her grip the reins. “It’s like I told you, there’s a great big world out there.” She realized then as she moved through the dark night, that she and Trotter had a lot in common. There was a time where Blackstone Island had been her whole world. She hadn’t been able to see beyond it, because that was all she knew, just like Trotter couldn’t see beyond the ranch.

  While the rats and mice skittered inside the jostling sack, Lizbet tried to enjoy the midnight ride. Her mother’s stories haunted her. Over and over, she reminded herself that in the weeks since she’d left the island, nothing horrible had happened to her. She hadn’t bumped into one cruel person, or been confronted by evil. Sure, she knew evil existed. Occasionally, she watched the news with Elizabeth and that often confirmed her mom’s worst nightmares, but Lizbet had yet to meet a gun-toting lunatic.

  Although, maybe, if she was to meet one now, this would be the very worst time. Being alone on a dark night was a very bad idea.

  She told herself she was safe on Trotter’s back. And someone might have a gun, but she had a bag of rodents. The rats and mice might not be as scary as a firearm, but a rodent army could still be a very valuable and effective weapon. She’d just have to take her chances.

  It surprised her that Josie lived only nine miles away in East End and not in Queen Anne itself. She would have thought Josie would choose to live in a swanky downtown apartment close to her work. But maybe Josie wasn’t as different from her mom and sister as she pretended to be.

  Because they were able to take shortcuts through trails and woods, it didn’t take nearly as long as Lizbet had thought it would to reach the gates of Josie’s condo complex.

  Trotter pranced in front of gates. “Should I try to jump? I’ve never jumped a fence before.”

  “No,” Lizbet said, resigning herself to climbing over the gates. She climbed off Trotter, and tried to shift the bag of rodents as gently as she could. Her legs felt wobbly after the long ride. She set the bag down on the ground, and found a tree where she could tie Trotter.

  “If anyone tries to steal you, kick them,” Lizbet instructed the horse. “You don’t need to be kind.”

  Trotter blew out a friendly breath, nickered, and shook his head at her as Lizbet headed for the large wrought-iron gates. To her amazement, they swung open.

  She turned just as a car rolled down the drive. She dove into the bushes, but not before she locked eyes with Declan sitting behind the wheel of an ancient Honda.

  Lizbet crouched in the bushes, prepared to run if Declan reappeared. She waited, and as she did, time crawled to a stop. He had to have seen her. Was he looking for her? Or did he think she made a habit of prowling around condo complexes in the middle of the night? At least he didn’t know about the bag of rodents. Yet.

  After several minutes crawled by on turtle speed, she crept from her hiding place, hoisted the bag over her shoulder and followed the GPS’ instructions to her aunt’s condo. She took note of the dark windows. What if Josie wasn’t home?

  Lizbet tried the front door and the back patio door, but both were locked. Her gaze traveled up to an open second-story window. “Here we go,” she whispered to the rodents. “Be safe,” she told them as she released the cinch. “This is a noble thing you’re doing.
Remember, cause as much havoc as you can and as soon as things get dangerous, head for the woods. I’ll leave the bag here waiting for you.”

  The rodents scurried out, followed her pointing finger, and easily scaled the wall to the window.

  Lizbet retreated to the woods with her bag to wait and listen. It didn’t take long. Josie’s light switched on and the screaming started. Lizbet wanted to cheer. Everything about her plan was going perfectly...until she spotted Declan standing in the parking lot, looking directly at her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “The physical interdependence among humans, animals, plants, and minerals is amply demonstrated by science. But an emotional and spiritual symbiosis, less obvious perhaps to those living in a largely man-made world, exists as well.”

  Animals and Man, by Sarah Belle Dougherty

  From Declan’s Research

  Lizbet thought about moving deeper into the woods, but then Declan could stumble upon the rodents when they retreated. Knowing she had a responsibility to protect the critters, she took a deep breath, and went to face Declan and his questions. She found him in the parking lot beside his car.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “My aunt lives here,” she replied.

  “Your aunt? You don’t like your aunt.”

  “She’s still my mother’s sister. And besides, that’s why I’m outside her condo instead of inside.” She tucked her hands into her pockets, afraid he’d notice how dirty they were. “What are you doing?”

  “I live here.”

  “You do? But I’ve been to your house...”

  He pointed his chin at a neighboring condo. “I live with my dad.”

  Josie’s screams rang through the air. Several lights flashed on.

  “I wonder what’s going on,” Declan said.

  “My aunt is watching a slasher movie,” Josie said.

  “That’s coming from your aunt’s condo?”

  “She’s watching The Zombie Wars.”

  He cocked his head at her. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a zombie chick.”

  “I’m not. That’s one of the reasons I’m out here.” She laughed, but hated how nervous she sounded. She turned so that Declan had to have his back to Josie’s window to look at her. A few rodents had gathered on the windowsill and they watched her with their beady eyes. In the distance, Trotter nickered.

  “Did you see that someone tied a horse up to the fence?”

  “What? Really?” She hated lying to him.

  “Weird, right?” Declan asked.

  “So weird...” Weirder than you know.

  He glanced at his phone. “I better go inside, my dad’s worried about me.”

  Lizbet watched the rodents scurry down the wall. They formed a straight line like soldiers on parade. If Declan turned around now, he’d be sure to see them. She had to stall. Scrambling for something to say, she came up with, “That must be nice.”

  “What?”

  “Your dad worries about you.”

  The rodents scampered across the patio while upstairs Josie screamed, “Out! Out!”

  Lizbet pulled her hoodie over her head, just in case Josie happened to look out the window. “You have your dad, your mom, even a stepfather...probably even cousins. I only have my mom.”

  “You have Elizabeth and your aunt.”

  “You’re right.” She smiled at him.

  “He says he’ll always worry about me.”

  “How very worrisome.”

  “Mmm.” Declan stepped closer, as if to kiss her.

  She lifted her face to his, but because she had one eye trained on the rodents trooping down the condo wall, she couldn’t enjoy herself the way she wanted to. Hopefully, there would be many more kisses in the future.

  He squeezed her hand. “You should go inside, too.”

  “I will, as soon as the movie’s over.”

  Declan looked at his phone. “When will that be?”

  “Soon,” Lizbet said, watching the trickling line of rodents. “I’m okay out here, really.”

  He still looked doubtful, so she walked with him to his door.

  “Do you want to come in?” he asked.

  “And give your dad something to really worry about?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Yeah.”

  She laughed. “No.” And placed her hand on his chest to push him against his front door.

  “Declan?”

  A man poked his head out the window. Lizbet froze as she gazed into the eyes of John Lamb.

  “I’ll be right in, Dad,” Declan said.

  Dad.

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked. Lizbet recognized his voice from his visit to the island.

  “Lizbet Westmoor, Elizabeth Westmoor’s granddaughter.”

  John Lamb’s widened in recognition. He knows, Lizbet thought.

  “Josie’s daughter?” Disbelief touched his voice.

  Maybe he doesn’t know, Lizbet thought.

  “Her aunt is watching a zombie movie,” Declan explained, “and she’s hiding out here.”

  “That’s wise.” John Lamb’s expression crinkled with kindness and questions.

  Somehow, Lizbet stumbled through introductions, and answered questions about her mom, grandmother, and aunt. “I have to go,” she said, her heart hammering. She tore away, and ducked around the corner of the closest building. When she was sure Declan and John were out of sight, she ran for the woods.

  “Everyone here and accounted for?” she whispered.

  The rodents had refilled the bag. “Yes,” came a hundred muffled replies.

  “Good,” Lizbet said. But as she along with Trotter and the rodents retraced their steps toward Elizabeth’s ranch, Lizbet had to admit that nothing was good, at all. Because if John Lamb was her dad, as she believed, that made Declan her brother. With a heavy heart, she came to grips with the fact that there wouldn’t be future kisses with Declan.

  Of course maybe John wasn’t her father—but then who was? She knew for certain that John and her mother were lovers. Lizbet couldn’t keep on kissing Declan on the rare chance that they weren’t siblings. A tiredness that had nothing to do with the late hour pressed against Lizbet’s mind. She felt numb. Her earlier jubilation completely deflated, and she wondered with detachment what would become of her.

  She hadn’t realized how much she had come to like Declan until the possibility of him ever being more than a brotherly-sort of friend disappeared.

  #

  Lizbet convinced Elizabeth to put on a dress and a pair of heels for the lunch with Josie. Despite the fact that the black crinoline was snug, smelled of mothballs, and was horribly outdated, Elizabeth looked much better and more polished than Lizbet had ever seen her. It had taken some coaxing to get Elizabeth in the “Sunday best” clothes, and even more for her to allow Lizbet free rein on her hair, but now that they were both “spit polished and shined,” as Elizabeth said, Lizbet was glad.

  Lizbet didn’t know if Josie had intentionally picked out an intimidating restaurant, or if she typically spent her lunch hours at cafes where the waiters only spoke French. She suspected that Josie wanted to send a clear message to her mother that when it came to finances, Josie knew best.

  But whatever swagger Josie had hoped to swing, one look at her exhausted face told Lizbet that for today, at least, Josie had lost her mojo. And Lizbet knew she had the rats and mice to thank.

  Swallowing a secret smile, Lizbet followed the garcon across the slate floor to the atrium. Flowers and exotic plants lined the walls. Vines hung from the beams of the glass ceiling. The sun-filled room was almost as heavenly as the odors wafting through air. Everything was beautiful, except for Josie’s haggard expression.

  Elizabeth settled into a wrought iron chair. The garcon whipped out her linen napkin and dropped it onto her lap. “Oh, thank you,” she said with giggle. “It’s not often I have handsome young men fawning over me!” She winked at the tall lean man with a drooping mustache, named Pi
erre.

  “What’s with you, mother?” Josie huffed as soon as Pierre was out of earshot.

  “Why, what do you mean?” Elizabeth asked as she snagged a croissant from the silver breadbasket.

  “You’re—“ Josie waved a hand in front of her mom.

  “You’re the one who’s always telling me to stop dressing like a farmhand and spiffy up.” Elizabeth tore into her roll and a puff of warm, fragrant air escaped. She smiled as if the croissant were singing her name.

  Josie leaned forward and braced her elbows on the table. “You were flirting with the waiter.”

  “Oh, do you think? I thought he was flirting with me!” She looked over her shoulder, made eye contact with Pierre and waggled her fingers at him.

  Josie slapped her mom’s wrist. “Mother! Stop it!”

  Lizbet quickly picked up her water goblet and took a sip to hide her smile.

  “He’s only being kind because he’s hoping you’ll leave him a tip!” Josie hissed.

  Elizabeth’s grin didn’t fade. “Just because you’re not looking your best, doesn’t mean I need to play Dowdy-Dora.”

  Josie straightened her shoulders and pulled herself into a haughty position for a fleeting moment. Then she sagged, as if wilting, and rubbed a tired hand across her eyes. “You’re right. I’m not at my best today,” she admitted.

  Elizabeth peered at her through suspicious eyes. Lizbet guessed that Elizabeth wasn’t used to seeing her younger daughter in a vulnerable state.

  “Last night my condo was completely overrun with vermin!” Josie spat out the last word.

  Elizabeth looked shocked. “Did you call the manager?”

  “Yes, but...he didn’t believe me!”

  “How could he not believe you?” Elizabeth set down her croissant. “Either you have a rodent infestation or you don’t.”

  “He says we don’t.” She took a long sip of wine. “Last night the rodents were having a party in my room. Today, there’s no sign of them.”

  “Did you talk to your neighbors?” Elizabeth prodded.

  Josie nodded. “I’m the only one who saw them.”

  “Well!” Elizabeth huffed. “That just won’t do! Do you want to come and stay at the ranch?”