Animals

by David A. Simpson

  “Sure Mom,” Cody sighed. He missed the old lion and didn’t care at all for the two newest additions to the park.

  Kelly keyed the mike on her radio. “Go for Kelly.”

  As the primary veterinarian at Piedmont she was constantly on the run. Today was shaping up to be even tougher because of the staff that had called in complaining of flu like symptoms. The capuchin monkeys were always getting loose and stuffing themselves on junk food or Bert was dealing with an upset stomach. The big giraffe loved to eat maple leaves but the heavy tannic acid in them played havoc with his digestive system. Bert was famous for his noxious gas. It always drew giggles from the children when he ripped a big loud stinky one while mom and dad were trying to get a picture of their kids with the long-legged critter.

  “Kelly, this is Will, we’ve got a visitor complaining of fever and a headache up here by the snack bar.” the radio squawked.

  “Copy, have Anna come, she’s with us all day today.” Kelly responded.

  Anna Rimes was a part time volunteer at the park who worked as a paramedic with the fire department.

  “Roger that,” Will answered back. “She’s in route, I called you because he appears to have a bite mark on his forearm, and I thought you’d want to take a look at it, see which of our residents decided to snack on the paying customers.”

  “On my way,” said Kelly. “Cody don’t forget the hyenas; I’ll be back in a bit.”

  She took off at a run, worried about the bite and wondering if it was going to be one of those days. None of the petting animals had ever bitten anyone before, she hoped it was just an overly friendly slobber from one of the goats. Life at Piedmont was never boring.

  Tossing the shovel in the back with the rest of the buckets and tools, Cody chugged down the last of the water, gave Millie a pat on her enormous head and hopped on the golf cart. He drove over to the feed barn to grab some cuts of meat for the hyenas from the walk in cooler and some extra grub for his pal Otis. When it was loaded in buckets and stowed in the cart, he headed down to the enclosure near the river to find the bear.

  Otis lay in the shade of a giant maple tree but lifted his head and chuffed as he watched Cody approach. The boy always meant a scratch in those itchy places and something tasty to eat was heading his way, so he pushed himself to his feet in anticipation.

  Otis was a 1200-pound bear of questionable lineage that had performed in Las Vegas in his younger years to sellout crowds. Cody’s mom thought he was a Kodiak and Grizzly mix but whoever his parents had been, he’d taken after the bigger one. Otis was an attention lover of the highest order; he still did a few tricks for the crowds of kids to hear the applause. He was gentle enough for them to ride him around but it wasn’t allowed, of course. He’d never intentionally hurt anyone, but you couldn’t convince the insurance companies of that.

  Cody grabbed one of the buckets of beef and stood looking eye to eye with the big bear. He reached up and rubbed Otis between the ears and got a satisfied groan of pleasure for his efforts. He pulled a large roast from the bucket and held it out for inspection. Otis gave it a big sniff and gently took it from the boy in his cavernous jaws. He turned and ambled back to his spot in the shade to enjoy his breakfast as Cody tidied up the enclosure. He shoveled what needed to be shoveled, cleaned out his drinking pool then reclined against the bear’s ribs as Otis lay sprawled out, gnawing happily on the bone. He scratched him idly behind the ears and smiled at the contented sounds he made. He was like a giant pussy cat.

  “Enjoy buddy. I’ll see you later.” Cody said after a few minutes and stood, gave Otis a good back scratching and left the enclosure. He’d rather spend the day lying in the shade with Otis, but he didn’t want to keep Derek waiting. Cody plopped in the golf carts seat, pressed the pedal and headed towards the hyena kennel.

  The two hyenas came to their feet and stared at him as he approached with the bucket of meat, mouths drooling and pacing back and forth in the pen. They were huge, hunchbacked and a mottled, tawny color. Their mouths were oversized, they seemed too big for their heads and it looked like they were smiling a devil smile when they barked their creepy laugh. Cody was wary of them. They looked mean and cunning and even had evil sounding names: Diablo and Demonio, Spanish for Devil and Demon. They’d only been on site for a couple of days and were nasty beasts. The pair had been seized by the DEA when they busted a gang affiliated with one of the Mexican drug cartels. With no other facility willing to take them, they had been transported to Piedmont. Rumor had it the gang’s leader had fed the two beasts a steady diet of people who crossed him. Kelly dismissed it with a laugh when Cody asked her about it. She said hyenas had gotten a bad rap ever since Disney vilified them.

  Cody wasn’t so sure. He was uncomfortable with the way they stalked the bars and eyed him. Like he might be what’s for dinner. He didn’t bother trying to hand feed them, their meat got tossed in the dirt.

  As he chunked the slabs through the bars of the pen, Derek rolled up on his cart and began unloading his gear. He started prepping his tranquilizer stick that would sedate the animals so he could check them over and insert the GPS locator microchips that all zoo animals were required to have.

  “Cody my man,” Derek said with a smile. “Come to hold these bad boys still while I chip ‘em?”

  “No way.” Cody said. “I’m not getting anywhere near those things. Who names their pets Devil and Demon anyway?”

  Derek laughed, “Yeah, they aren’t exactly kid friendly names. We’d have to do something about that if we were going to integrate them into the park, but honestly, I think we’ll end up putting them down. We’ve been trying to place them in a facility that’s designed for truly wild animals, but no one wants them. Everyone has heard the stories and most of them are probably true. These two are just too vicious for a place like this. It’s a shame the way some people raise their animals, they really are magnificent creatures.”

  Cody was usually troubled over talk of an animal being put to sleep, but in this case, he felt a sense of relief. They were battle scarred from where they’d been beaten and tossed into cages with fighting dogs. Animals born and bred into killing had a taste for blood and it couldn’t be tamed, no matter how nice you treated them. They would always be dangerous.

  Derek jabbed each of the hyenas in turn with the tranquilizer stick and a minute later both were snoozing, heads on their paws.

  “That will keep them out for about ten minutes or so,” Derek said as he prepared the smaller syringes that contained the GPS chips.

  “So, buddy,” Derek said, “Since you’re the man of the Wilkes house I have a question for you. You know me and your Mom have been seeing each other for a while now. I was thinking about something a little more public and permanent if you catch my drift.”

  Cody knew where this was headed. He’d caught the glimpses between Mom and Derek when they thought no one was looking and he was cool with it. He knew about their spot down by the river and their late nights at work. So, did everyone else, it was the worst kept secret in Piedmont.

  Derek was a great guy, always quick with a joke or a laugh and he always treated Cody like a man and not a boy. He and Derek had shared a couple of beers a week ago down by the Mississippi as they waited for a catfish to take the bait drifting at the end of their fishing lines. Mom would have flipped out if she knew, but Derek said it was a rite of passage and what Mom didn’t know wouldn’t get them hurt. He’d given Cody his old Zippo with the Coast Guard emblem engraved on it. A memento from his days of service when he was fresh out of high school. Cody carried it with him everywhere now.

  “Go for it man. I know about you two, everyone does.” Cody said with a grin.

  “Cool,” Derek said and put out his fist. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay with us going out to dinner and movies and stuff.”

  Cody bumped it and a smiling Derek stepped toward the sleeping hyenas.

  He unlatched the kennel door and slipped inside, knelt beside Diablo. Cody
stayed outside with a hand on the gate, ready to close it the second the job was finished. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them. Derek used the battery powered clippers to shave the fur at the injection site and swabbed the skin with an alcohol pad. As he prepared to jab the sleeping hyena his radio squawked to life.

  “Derek!” Kelly’s voice came over the radio. “We need you up here NOW at the gates! People are attacking each other, HURRY!” She yelled desperately.

  She sounded like she was on the verge of hysteria. She sounded scared.

  Derek keyed his mike. “I’m on the way!”

  Cody jumped out of the way as he flew out of the kennel and slammed the self-latching door.

  “Gotta go. We’ll finish this later. Can you gather my gear?” he said, as he jumped on his cart and hurried for the front gate.

  Cody watched as Derek rode off then picked up the tranq sticks. He reached through the cage to get the clippers and the GPS syringes. No way was he going inside. He loaded them in his cart then hurried to see what was going on and if there was anything he could do to help. He’d never heard his mom sound like that, she was usually cool headed. Trouble in the park wasn’t unheard of, usually the result of some impatient tourist agitated with waiting in line or the constant flux of children flitting about like bees. It couldn’t be too bad, he thought. Probably a couple of overly excited guests in a shoving match over a snow cone or something. Maybe the radio just made her sound panicky.

  Neither one of them noticed the barred door had bounced back open an inch. The old safety latch on the seldom used cage hadn’t caught.

  3

  Harper

  The shuttle bus pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the Piedmont Animal Sanctuary and as soon as the driver opened the door Harper Alexander sprang for the exit and was the first one out. The rest of the kids were right behind her, rushing for the gates to be the first in line. Mr. Baynard just shook his head at their exuberance to get inside the park the second it opened. It reminded him of his military days: Hurry up and wait. He waved the driver away and operated the wheelchair lift himself, a fine line of perspiration on his upper lip despite the cool morning. Murray Sanders took off as soon as his wheels hit the ground with a Thanks Mr. Baynard thrown over his shoulder. He was hurrying to grab his place in line the other were saving for him.

  “Care to join us?” Baynard asked the driver. “I have enough passes to get you in too.”

  The bus driver just grunted and waved him off.

  “Nah, I’ve got stuff I need to do.” he said and pulled out his phone.

  He was feeling lucky today. He had two hundred bucks left in his checking account and he was going to double it. Maybe triple it if Lady Luck held and the online poker game didn’t cheat him again.

  “Suit yourself,” said Baynard, wincing at the sudden pressure behind his eyes as he joined his eager students near the head of the line.

  “Ok, guys and girls. Everyone have their phones? Snack money?”

  There was a chorus of excited acknowledgements as the gates swung open and the parks ticket taker slid open the window to his booth.

  “Good, stay in touch.”

  He had to raise his voice to be heard over their excited chatter. “Remember, study your animals. How they move, interact with their environment. That’s important. Many of them are not native to this country, so how they’ve adapted to their surroundings is part of your research. Sketches, photos, videos and any data you can collect will factor into your grade. Be thorough and have fun!”

  “I’ll be around to observe each of you in a while. Now get out of here.” he yelled at the retreating kids and watched them scatter.

  He could feel a killer migraine coming on, his head was throbbing and the light was hurting his eyes. He made his way towards the gift shop where he was sure he could find some cheap sunglasses, a bottle of water and surely, they carried aspirin.

  Harper made a beeline for the giraffe enclosure. She had seen Bert once before with her parents on the guided tour. He was magnificent. Easily sixteen feet tall and in his prime at 15 years old. She stared up in awe at the kind but funny face of Bert while he surveyed the park. A staff member had answered all her questions and her parents nearly had to drag her away to keep up with the group.

  He had come to Piedmont via Venezuela eleven years ago. A zoo outside of Caracas fell on hard times and began selling animals for big game hunts. The resulting uproar and outcry of animal activists around the world saw the facility shut down and all the surviving animals relocated to other zoos. Bert was lucky enough to find a home at Piedmont.

  Harper had no problem with hunting, she understood how the money from sportsmen funded conservation and protected habitats. Careful management of wild game kept the population healthy. She came from a long line of outdoorsman but slaughtering tame zoo animals was just wrong.

  Finding Bert this morning wasn’t hard. All she had to do was look up. She spotted him with his head up in a tree, pulling leaves into his mouth with his eighteen-inch purple tongue. Picking up her pace, she was soon standing a few feet away from the bull giraffe.

  “Hi Bert, I’m Harper. I doubt you remember me, but I think you are amazing. If you don’t mind, I’m just gonna watch you awhile and take some notes and a few pictures.” she said.

  The girls at school would snicker and make jokes if they were to see her now but Harper didn’t care. She didn’t care about most things teenaged girls obsessed over. Boys, clothes, music and social media didn’t dominate her life. Thirteen years old and easily the prettiest girl in school, she preferred comfort over fashion and usually had her nose in a book instead of someone else’s business.

  She studied the fence that separated the walking path from the animals. It was eight-foot-tall and no one was watching and this might be her only chance before too many people arrived. She stuck her foot in one of the four-inch squares that made up the wire and started climbing. The ever-alert Bert abandoned his quest for the perfect leaf and stepped her way. Another foot higher, then another, she found herself at the top staring at his long neck. Bert lowered his head towards the girl, sensing no ill intent from the small creature with the tasty looking straw-colored hair. She felt the warm air expelled from his nostrils as he stared into her eyes mere inches away. Letting go of the fence with one hand, she raised her phone and snapped a selfie of her and the friendly giraffe. She giggled as he extended his long tongue and touched her hair with it. Deciding he didn’t care for the taste he pulled it back in. Girl and giant stared unblinkingly at each other for a few seconds. The magic of the moment was broken by the putt putting of a golf cart.

  “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to get down from there, please.”

  Harper climbed down as Bert returned to his foraging. She faced the man on the golf cart. His shirt said Derek on it and she knew there was a friendly smile just below the surface of the stern look he was giving her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m his biggest fan. He gave me his autograph,” she said as she wiped giraffe drool off her cheek.

  Derek tried to hold the frown but couldn’t. “It’s ok,” he relented. “I was more concerned about you falling than Bert eating you. Enjoy your day and try to stay on the ground. I’ve got a date with two hyenas, so I’m gonna trust you won’t try to steal my giraffe while I’m working.”

  Harper laughed and gave him a wave as he motored away. Looking at Bert she smiled. “Now, where were we?”

  Harper followed him as he ambled along, sampling various trees at random. She made rough sketches of him foraging and tried to capture the way his tongue curled out to snag the leaves. He always picked the ones farthest away, the highest he could reach and she wondered if there was reason for that. She made a note to research it further and laughed as his behind erupted in one of his famous thundering farts. She took more photos, added detail to her sketches and carried on a one-way conversation with him.

  She looked up when she saw Derek motoring as fast as the golf cart
would go; he passed her with a quick wave and left her in a cloud of dust. She shrugged and went back to writing observations in her notepad.

  A few minutes later, Bert whipped his head toward the front entrance as the sound of screams and honking horns shattered the stillness of the morning. His mane bristled, and he snorted at the disturbance. Harper gathered up her things, told Bert she’d be back and headed to see what all the fuss was about.

  4

  Vanessa

  Vanessa Talley made her way through the sanctuary chewing her ever present bubble gum. She blew a bubble as big as her face and inhaled it quickly when it popped, avoiding having to peel it off her cheeks. At ten years old, she was the youngest of Mr. Baynard’s zoology group, but she held her own with the older kids. She had already been advanced a year ahead in school once and was smart enough to skip another. She could graduate at 16 and be in college shortly thereafter. Her dad, however, didn’t want her to grow up too fast and always be the youngest of her class. She breezed her way through school, turned assignments in ahead of time and finished whole textbooks while her classmates were in the early chapters.

  She thought she looked older than her ten years, she certainly felt it. Her high cheekbones and confident poise garnered no doubt that she was a descendent of African royalty somewhere in her lineage. She was proud of her ancestry and her one goal in life was to help end hunger in poverty-stricken nations through smart resource management. Poaching animals provided one meal one time. Proper management meant many meals many times. Her father called her idealistic but she felt that part of the answer lay in the ostrich. Ugly to most, but beautiful in her eyes, she adored the species and its potential to improve lives. She had argued her point with her father and Mr. Baynard more than once. It was a bird that could adapt to practically any environment found on the African continent. They were low maintenance with a highly adaptive digestive system. A female ostrich could lay up to sixty eggs a year and it was an egg that could weigh five pounds! The meat was protein rich, the skin yielded high quality leather, and the feathers were a market in themselves. There was also its significance in African folklore; the ostrich was considered the King of the Birds. They also possessed a set of four-inch claws at the end of their feet that could gut a lion so the highly social flocks of the giant birds were fully capable of defending themselves. She would sum up her argument by saying it was like having a velociraptor that gave you the world’s biggest omelet for breakfast. Her passion made it hard to argue with her.