CHAPTER TWO

 

The zoo opened late on Sundays. Noah took the opportunity before the tourists descended en masse to visit Jeremy and check on Lyra. He liked Jeremy. Some zoo vets worked for money, with love of animals coming in second, sometimes a distant second. Jeremy treated his animal patients like they were his own kids (of which he had three). He once told Noah he could be making three times as much in private practice, but he loved the zoo animals and wanted to make sure they were well cared for.

That wasn’t the top priority of the zoo’s director, Terrence Goss, or the board members. Jeremy, Calvin and Noah shared a deep-seated distrust of the board, especially Goss, after several large cats disappeared without notice. Most of the keepers didn’t trust Goss as far as they could spit. When Jeremy tried to investigate, he was told the animals were sent to another zoo for “breeding purposes,” but all the keepers knew two of the cats were sterile.

When two keepers confronted Goss, he threatened to fire them, so they never said another word, at least not within earshot. Rumors spread like wildfire of illegal wildlife trading after a bighorn sheep was transferred without notice, and its keeper was never told where it was being transferred.

The mystery was never solved, and animals stopped disappearing for a while, until two months ago, when two mountain cats went to transfer status without any explanation. The cats were gone before anybody could ask why, including a furious Calvin, who was in charge of the big cats. Calvin wanted to physically confront Goss, but Noah and Jeremy stopped him, fearing he would not only lose his job, but also end up in jail, even though Goss deserved any beating he got.

Jeremy tended to a chimp called “Cookie,” for his habit of grabbing cookies out of any hand in reach. Jeremy looked up as Noah entered the back room.

“Cookie’s got a tummy ache. Too many Oreos from those maintenance guys over at Primate Palace,” Jeremy said.

“Those guys love Cookie. I heard one of them named his dog Cookie. But I think it’s time somebody discouraged them from the Oreo binges,” Noah said, sitting and patting Cookie on the head. Cookie grinned, his big chimp teeth black with Oreo crumbs.

“Pig!” Noah joked. Cookie squealed in response.

“Lyra is back at the pond. Mary took her this morning. She seemed a little stronger, but still won’t eat much. I thought she’d rather be in the fresh air than this stinky back room with a crazy monkey with cookie breath.” Jeremy tickled Cookie affectionately.

Noah sighed. “Nothing in the blood tests?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Not a thing. Viral tests all came back zilch, too. I told you, she’s healthy. She just isn’t…happy.”

Noah got up and started to leave. “I’ll go say hi on my way to see Satan.”

Jeremy bellowed. “Satan! Love it. You still can’t get anywhere with that wolf? I checked him out, well, sort of. I couldn’t get close enough to touch him without risking the loss of my limbs, but I do think he’s healthy, nice coat, muscle tone, top alpha stuff. And boy, does he fit the name.”

“He just hates humans, zoos, other animals, cages, life…” Noah sighed again.

“Well, you always had a way with animals. Maybe you can bring out his gentle side!”

Cookie squealed and clapped his hands.

Noah reached over and patted the chimp. “You’re not a pig, you’re a ham!”

****

Noah passed the big cat compounds, but Calvin wasn’t there. He continued down the path to the pond that served as the zoo’s central point. Tourists stopped to rest or take photos at the pond, situated in the middle of four paths leading to different sections of the zoo. It was a popular eating spot, with dozens of picnic benches and bathrooms. Children loved to watch the swans and feed the ducks pieces of bread or hamburger buns, despite the sign clearly stating the animals were in danger of over-feeding. Noah never enforced the sign, thinking ducks were smart enough to know when to stop eating (even though a few of them could have used Jennie Craig), and the children loved the experience of, just for a moment, bonding with the goofy, silly, noisy birds that never seemed to tire of attention.

Lyra was in a far corner of the pond, where a small piece of land jutted out, forming a u-shaped area for birds to converge. Other swans swam, or congregated at the opposite end, where a barrier kept them from the people, and ducks. Swans were not desperate for attention, or hamburger buns. They didn’t mind people, but they didn’t seek them out. They mostly kept to themselves, not because they were snobs, but because they were solitary. Ducks liked crowds. Noah often thought if ducks were humans, they’d be gang bangers, only not violent ones. Just punks who liked to hang out in big groups and make a lot of noise.

Swans had more class. They would be writers, or poets. Maybe mystics.

Noah loved the swans more than any of his animals. He was responsible for the wild dogs, but he had always loved birds. He started out keeping birds, but developed a rapport with wild dogs and proved himself the best keeper around for dealing with problem animals, like hyenas and jackals. Wolves were a piece of cake compared with the African and Asian dogs. Wolves had a dignity and air of honor that other wild dogs lacked. They were noble creatures, not the demons many hunters and ranchers made them out to be in the media. Wolves mated for life and stayed together as a family unit, something most humans could take a lesson from.

Noah didn’t know too many humans with their original parents still married to each other. Wolves didn’t need therapists or Dr. Phil to tell them how to be a strong and loving familial unit. He stood at the boundary fence and gently called to Lyra. He tossed her a tidbit of donut, but she ignored it. Her long neck arched and her head dropped so low it almost touched the water.

“What is breaking your heart, girl?” Noah whispered. “I want to help you, but you have to give me something to work with.”

A gaggle of children ran by, screaming and laughing. Lyra moved her head away from the noise. Noah sighed, looking back at the white swan before he moved on to his more dangerous wards.

Calvin sauntered up the main path. “You hear the news? Monty got the shuffle last night.” Calvin was pissed off.

“What? Monty the snow leopard? Why the hell would they trade a rare cat? For what, a soda machine? That’s one of the most popular animals in the whole damned zoo!”

Calvin leaned closer and whispered. “Word down at the loading bay is he got canned.”

Noah’s mouth opened in horror. “They can’t do that. Canned hunting is illegal. The just passed a law –“

Calvin waved him off, grimacing. “Laws my ass. Those dickheads don’t obey laws. They don’t have to. Director’s best friends with Senate Majority Leader Bist. That dude is a big game hunter. Heard he even held some of his fundraisers on his ranch in Dawson, Texas, and invited all his best pals over for a canned hunt. God knows those rednecks would love a nice snow leopard head above their fireplace.”

Noah gazed at Lyra as Calvin shared his concerns. Lyra lifted her head and moved it in the direction of where Noah and Calvin stood. Just when he thought he caught her eye, she dropped her head and turned away.

“I gotta find out what’s going on. We gotta find out, Calvin. We can’t let them do this to Monty, or to any of the others. Zoos are supposed to preserve animals, not sell them off to the cheapest hunt club or rich Texas Congressman with a shotgun.”

Calvin fiddled with his toothpick. “I gotta get up there. Let’s keep our eyes and ears way, way open, you dig? I don’t want to lose any more of my cats.”

Noah didn’t want to believe Goss could be selling big game animals for canned hunts, which involved putting animals in closed spaces so they could not escape the bows and arrows or guns of the hunters. It was unfair and cruel, but happened more often than the public was told. A couple of wild animal parks were busted in previous years for taking payouts for “prizes,” as they called the animals unfortunate enough to end up in certain death. Even a popular zoo launched a similar investigation, ending in the arrest of two big animal keepers.

The people who took part in canned hunts were rarely, if ever, held accountable. They paid big money to kill their easy prey, and even bigger money to keep the mouths of local law enforcement quiet when they could. Luckily, not everybody could be bought out. Noah didn’t want to think about how many animals were saved thanks to whistleblowers busting the lid off of canned hunts.

Nor did he want to think about how many animals weren’t. His father was a hunter, but even he despised canned hunts. “The animals don’t have anywhere to go. It ain’t hunting. It’s execution,” he once said. The words stuck in Noah’s head.

****

When he got home it was almost midnight. Noah was exhausted and surprised to see Jennie walking down the hall ahead of him in a slinky black dress. She flashed him a huge smile.

“Wow...look at you,” Noah said.

“Thanks. I clean up pretty good, don’t I? Just got back from a date,” Jennie said.

“A date...” It bothered Noah, although it shouldn’t have. And it bothered him even more that it bothered him. “Did it go well?”

“Yeah, actually we are doing it again soon.”

Noah smiled politely as Jennie waved and opened her door. The second the door closed, Noah’s smile was gone.