“Do you want me to call my family?”
I try to swallow around the rock lodged in my throat but can’t. “Dr. Robertson said she’d die at the circus.” I struggle with the part of me that’s still a coward. “It would be the easy way out, not being there for her...in the end. Not bearing witness, you know?” Tears drip off my jaw. Otis is crying, too. “I knew this might happen, that she might...but I wanted it to be behind those gates,” I say. Swiping at my tears, I force my chin to stop quivering. “I vote that we stay here, with Swifty.”
“Agreed.” Otis hangs his head. “From the time I was little, all I can remember is Max saying that our name meant everything, that we should have pride as a multigenerational circus family, never tarnish our legacy. Tiger, I helped shape that legacy.” Otis slams his fist against the metal side of the van, denting it. “Right now I’m sure Max is raging about what I’ve done to darken the Walker name. But I’m just ashamed to be one of them.”
There’s an itch in my brain. I try to ignore it because I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to sit by Swifty, feel the thrum of her heart, breathe in her scent. I scratch behind her ear. She smiles. She smiles for me. Multigenerational, pride, family name, tarnish, legacy... “Why was it so important to bury Howard’s past? I mean, Max could’ve created a story about how his son was wrongfully accused, how he was protecting his little brother from a pedophile.”
Otis shakes his head. “Anyone who read Howard’s record would see that he mutilated that guy. A circus can’t be advertised as clean family entertainment with a violent, convicted murderer as the elephant trainer. Who’d want their kids around that kind of monster? Plus, Max believes in his legacy. I’m not willing to train our animals. Howard is. That means Howard is Wild Walker’s future. Max will live on through him.”
“So your father did what it took to get Howard out of prison. Then he had his record sealed so it could never be dug up to mar Wild Walker’s reputation.” Our eyes lock. We have one last chance. I grab the cell phone and dial Sawyer.
“Where are you?”
“Outside the Sanctuary’s gates. They won’t let us in because Walker’s still refuses to give up their claim.”
“Lily, I’m sorry. This probably isn’t the time, but I did something—”
“Just listen! Call Charlie Hamilton. He has to interview us—”
“I already called him. He’s in Galton, waiting for me to talk to you, to see if you’re willing to let—”
The phone dies. “Crap.”
“We don’t have a charger,” Otis says.
“It’s okay.” My best friend is the smartest person I know. While we wait for the news anchor from CNC to arrive, we make a plan.
47
Twelve minutes later a silver, two-door car comes down the road. It slows by the gate, parks. A lean man in jeans and a loose, white, button-down shirt steps out. A dark blue baseball cap covers closely cropped brown hair. Mirrored sunglasses hide his eyes. I peer down the road. No other cars appear.
“I took a private plane here last night,” Charlie Hamilton says. “Got here as fast as I could without being detected. A CNC fixer—that’s someone we count on when we need to fly under the radar—arranged for my rental car and hotel room. The key was in the car that he parked in the short-term lot. I didn’t see a single person at four in the morning when I let myself into my hotel room. I stayed there until I got Sawyer’s call. No one saw me leave the hotel or followed me here.”
“Wow,” I say. “This is the cherry on top of the Anti Twelve-Year Plan.”
Hamilton takes off his sunglasses, laser-blue eyes studying me. We shake. “Good to meet you, Tiger.”
“You, too, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Call me Charlie.”
“Okay.”
“You’ve lost your glasses.”
“Mr.... Charlie, they were fake,” I say.
He smiles. “Mine are fake, too.”
“Not to insult you, but how do we know you haven’t called the police?” Otis asks.
“Sawyer drafted a confidentiality agreement that forbids me to disclose your location to anyone.” Charlie shakes his head. “Kid his age had a lawyer on speed dial to vet it. I signed before he told me where you were. He loves you a ton.”
“More than Swift Jones, the singer,” I say.
“Yes,” Charlie agrees. “I asked Sawyer for an exclusive interview with you, if you agreed.”
“Agreed,” I say.
He holds out his hand to Otis. “I’m sorry, you are?”
“Otis Walker.”
Charlie blinks three times, like he’s recalculating. “I’d like to interview you, as well.”
Otis nods. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“First, do you want to meet Swifty?” I ask. Our plan hinges on the anchor believing she deserves a chance. Flea watches but doesn’t growl as the news anchor climbs into the van and sits beside Swifty, gently touching her cheek.
“I’m sorry about all this, sweet girl,” Charlie says. He looks at me. “Is she going to be okay?”
Otis and I sit side by side in the van. “Not without your help.”
“Off or on the record?” Charlie asks.
“Off for now?” I ask.
“Okay.”
“My family refuses to give up their claim on Swifty,” Otis says. “They know she’s dying. At this point they hope it happens before they get her back, so that her death will be Tiger’s and my fault instead of their own.”
“Whose fault is it?”
“It’s complicated,” I admit.
“Why?” Charlie presses.
“Because there is no perfect solution to animal care and conservation once animals are taken from the wild,” I say. “But for now? Let’s take it from the moment Walker’s claimed Swift Jones. They should’ve allowed the Pennington Zoo to keep her. The zoo has a full-time, experienced veterinarian, dedicated caretakers and they planned to slowly reintroduce Raki to her calf. It was Swifty’s best chance for survival.”
“Why didn’t Walker’s let that happen?” Charlie asks.
“Baby elephants sell tickets,” Otis says. “Also, my brother, Howard, wanted Swifty.”
“And Howard carried a lot of weight in the decision?”
“To my parents, Tina and Max, Howard is the future of Wild Walker’s Circus.”
“What about you?”
“I refused to train animals.”
“The abuse on the video?”
“Real and frequent.” Otis leans in. “I’d like to say that Howard is complicated. That he loves his elephants, that he wants a great life for them, that he strives for the best outcomes in an imperfect situation, same as zoo directors like Dr. Tinibu. But Howard is a sociopath. He’s been that way his entire life.”
Swifty’s eyes clench shut, her trunk writhes.
“Has she gotten sicker?” Charlie asks.
I nod. “Besides being depressed, she has colic. If it’s not treated, it will kill her even more quickly than her other issues.”
“And if it is treated?”
“If she’s given great medical care and is surrounded by female elephants and calves? She has a chance. But unless the circus gives up their claim, the Sanctuary can’t treat Swifty without risking the loss of their foundation.”
“And what about you?” He studies my face. “How are you doing, Tiger?”
It’s complicated. “I’m fine.”
Charlie looks from Otis to me. “So what’s your plan?”
“I want to call my family from your phone,” Otis says. “Threaten to tell you the one secret that no amount of digging, whether you have fixers or not, will be able to turn up. We’d like you to film that conversation and let Walker’s know that you’re filming it.”
“If they agree to give up their
ownership in return for keeping the secret?”
Raw nerves make my skin tingle. “If Walker’s Circus gives up their claim, then you don’t get to know the secret.”
“And this secret?” Charlie asks, not missing a beat.
A muscle in Otis’s jaw clenches. “Would destroy my family’s name and their circus.”
Charlie hands Otis his phone then unzips the duffel at his side, pulling out a small video camera. “We have a deal.”
I control the urge to hug the news anchor really hard. “Wait, use my camera,” I say. “That way you can’t get into trouble over the tape.”
He takes the camera and says, “Tiger, you’re a natural.”
Otis dials then puts the phone on speaker while Charlie videotapes him.
“Wild Walker’s Circus. How may I direct your call?”
“Carmen, it’s Otis. Put me through to Max.”
The line rings once. “Otis, have you come to your senses?” Max says.
“Who’s there?” Otis asks.
“Your mother, our crisis gal, Tess, and—”
“Hey, O,” Howard drawls. “Starting to think somebody’s big brother shoulda let his little brother get torn up after all. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.”
“Tiger and I are here with Charlie Hamilton,” Otis says.
“Bullshit,” Max says.
“FaceTime us,” Otis challenges. Charlie crosses over to our side of the van, sits down beside Otis. The only background visible is the beat-up metal of the van.
Max appears on the screen. The anchor nods at him. “Mr. Walker? Charlie Hamilton.”
“I’m hanging up,” Max says.
“Wait.” Tess appears over Max’s shoulder. Her face is painfully thin and the same shade of gray as the hair she scraped into a low bun. “Mr. Hamilton, you do realize, sir, that you cannot record this phone conversation without our permission?”
“Otis and Tiger are taping it with their own camera. My guess is they’re not worried about the legality of that decision, considering the trouble they’re in.”
“What do you want, Otis?” Tess asks.
“The Walker family to give up their claim to Swifty,” Otis says. “Otherwise, I’m prepared to tell Mr. Hamilton the family secret that will ruin our name, our business and Max’s legacy. You have ten minutes.”
“Otis, wait,” Tess says.
Otis hangs up. I rest my hand on his thigh.
Charlie presses a button on his phone. “Call Sam Boone.” He puts the phone on speaker. The line rings once.
“Boone here. What’s up?”
Charlie says, “I need a down and dirty contract.”
“Spell it out.”
“Wild Walker’s Circus gives up all legal claim to the elephant calf, Swift Jones. Further, they agree to drop all charges against Tiger Lillian Decker and Otis Walker for the theft of Swift Jones or anything libelous they’ve said or done during that process. In return Otis Walker will not tell me, or any other reporter, the private information he has on the Walker family’s secrets under penalty of blah, blah, blah.”
Otis and I look at each other. We never thought about getting ourselves off the hook.
“Where should I send the contract?” Boone asks.
“990-555-7979,” Otis says.
“When you get it back, signed by both Max and Tina Walker, send it to the Elephant Sanctuary in Galton, Texas. Attention Viv Hemming. Text me when it’s done.”
“Will do.”
48
We’ve done all we can for Swifty. Her sand is running quickly through an hourglass. There’s no stopping it. Charlie’s hand rests on Swifty’s foot. There’s a scab on the top where Howard punctured it with the ankus. I trace the calf’s trunk. Otis shifts to rest his hand on her head. Flea lies between Swifty’s front legs, one paw on her chest like he’s monitoring her heartbeat. What a strange, impossible, determined team we make.
Charlie picks up the camera. The red light blinks as he films Swifty’s trunk wrapping around my wrist. She coughs, the force rattling her body. I spoon her, my arm hugging her belly. Her heartbeat thuds against my chest. “I love you. If you need to fly,” I say, because I can’t bear her suffering, “you can fly.”
“Tiger, there are twenty-nine million–plus signatures on the Save Swifty petition,” Charlie says. “What you’ve done, both of you, so quickly, is...it’s unheard of.”
That number is unfathomable. I know Charlie is trying to make us feel better. I’m glad he’s still taking video. It seems wrong not to have a record of this day. “It’s a huge number,” I say. “Swift Jones’s tweets made all those signatures happen and I’m—” I look at Otis “—we’re really grateful.”
“Swift Jones only became involved because of what you said,” Charlie points out.
He’s right, I guess. We started the ball rolling. But none of it matters anymore. “The thing I used to be most afraid of in the entire world,” I say, “is hearing a person I didn’t know talking in my head because that would mean I had schizophrenia.”
“And now?” Charlie asks.
“Swifty dying. I would give anything if she were more than just a story. If her life could’ve mattered enough for Walker’s to have seen she was more than ticket sales. I’d trade my future for hers.”
“What about you, Otis? You’ve lost your family.”
“I chose another one.”
Swifty coughs again, her trunk repeatedly twisting. Tears fill then overflow her eyes. Charlie lowers the camera. “No. Keep filming,” I say, letting the salty tracks run down Swifty’s face even though all I want to do is wipe them away. “People need to see this.”
“Why?” Charlie asks.
“I once thought that Addie—Dr. Tinibu—was exaggerating when she said that elephants cry for the same reasons humans cry. That they feel things just as strongly as we do, remember them even longer. After Raki rejected her, Swifty cried for hours. I want people to see her tears, to know that in any life, elephant or human, they mean despair.”
“Tiger.” Charlie clears his throat. “You’ve opened a dialogue about animals in both zoos and circuses and become an outlaw hero in the process. What does that mean to you?”
“An outlaw hero?” I trace the curled border of Swifty’s delicate ear. “I didn’t even start that petition. People who cared more about Swifty than I did started it. Dr. Tinibu, who’s trying to save animals from extinction the only way she knows how, Viv Hemming, who fights for abused and sick elephants. All the animal activists out there are the heroes. Me? I’m a girl with an extremely uncertain future. There wasn’t that much for me to lose.” My thoughts coalesce. “I didn’t really like who I was, before Swifty. Maybe because I did everything out of fear, you know? I was trying to stay in control, eke out as much time as I could before schizophrenia took me down. But if you don’t feel anything, what’s the point?”
“You tell me,” Charlie says.
“Swifty has taught me that it’s not about how long I live as me, it’s about how I live that matters.”
Charlie’s cell phone chimes. He doesn’t pick up until the third ring. “Hello?” he says, like he has no idea who might be on the line. “Let me put you on FaceTime.” He hands Otis the phone, picks up the camera, filming.
Max’s face fills the screen. “Agreed,” he says.
I wait for joy to flood my body, but the moment is bittersweet, because we have what we wanted but it may be too late.
“Otis?” Max says.
“Yes?”
“We loved you the best we could, despite what you did. You’re on your own now.”
“Sign the agreement in the next minute,” Charlie says, “or I’ll start the interview with your son.” He ends the call.
I meet Otis’s gaze then look into the calf’s bottomless brown eyes. “�
�I wonder...if the stars are lit up so that each of us can find his own, someday.’”
“You memorized The Little Prince?” Charlie asks.
“No. Some quotes just stick in my head.”
“What about secrets?” Otis asks, his eyes the warm blue of the sea.
“What do you mean?”
“When this is over, consider telling Charlie my family’s secret.”
My heart aches because it’s both breaking and expanding. “Otis?”
“I promised not to tell him, but I already told you. Do what you want with what you know. Fair warning, though—the Walker family will try to sue you.”
I let the idea settle. There may be a chance to find Tambor a better home—maybe all of Walker’s animals. It’s a battle worth taking on.
“Psst.”
Yes?
“People have forgotten thith truth, thaid the dog. But you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed.” Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, but again the quote is wrong. It’s “fox,” not “dog.” There’s a soft buzzing in my ears. Just outside the van, I glimpse a blond-haired little girl. The edge of a white nightgown scattered with pink rosebuds catches my eye before she runs out of sight. It’s my first visual hallucination, but I smile anyway because I will fight to throw as many stones, create as many ripples, as possible.
A text pings on Charlie’s phone. He holds it up for us to see: Signed. Airtight.
This time the white truck comes down the road so fast that plumes of dirt rise at every corner. The gates are opened before it reaches us. We get out of the way as James and his team run over, climb into the back of our van. They try to push Flea out, but he growls like he’s Cujo.
“He’s her best friend,” I say.
James glances back at me. “Then the mutt stays—you and Otis, too. Swifty will need all of you to help her fight her way back.”
When Elephants Fly Page 29
