Zoo

by Tara Elizabeth

  I lose my footing when a rock gives way under my foot. It causes me to slide on my ass down the cliffside. I hold tight to my boot of water, as I slip several feet before I’m able to stop myself. Rocks scrape and scratch my skin as I bump, bump, bump my way down. My dress has rolled up to the middle of my back. The cord stops it from going any higher. The sides of my butt and thighs are exposed, and I’ve gotten the worst wedgie ever. Thankfully, I was able to hold the front of my sack dress in place.

  I yank my clothing back into place and cringe as it touches my raw flesh.

  “Are you okay?” Kale and James ask in unison, as they both hurry over to the large boulder I’m standing on. Both guys thrust out their hands in assistance. I take James’ offering, because I know I should. I’ve built somewhat of a relationship with him over the months, and I think he thinks we are together.

  I nod yes, while biting my lower lip. I’ve injured my backside, but to what degree I have no idea. Someone needs to look, but I don’t want it to be James or Kale. I don’t really want it to be Victoria either, but she’s the only female here. Reluctantly, I ask, “Victoria, can you please come here. I need you to take a look.” I look to the guys as she takes her time coming to my aid. “Would y’all mind turning around so she can see how bad it is?”

  Kale and James comply and face away from us.

  It’s beyond embarrassing, but I lift the back of my dress none-the-less. “How bad is it?” I ask Victoria. I keep my eyes shut tight, while waiting for her to give the verdict.

  “Scraped up pretty good from your legs up to your lower back, but no big gashes.” She tugs on my dress as she’s deciding how to help me further. “Here I’ll rinse it. Give me your water. I’m not wasting mine on your fanny,” she says.

  I cringe as she pours water over my fresh injuries. “Whoa! Don’t use all of my water.” I try to stop her from using it all. She shoves the boot, holding the little remains of my water, into my chest and walks over to Kale’s side. “Thank you,” I tell her.

  She gives me a snarky half-smile as her response.

  My panties are now wet from the water Victoria poured down my back. The dampness soaks into the back of my dress as I roll it back down. It probably looks like I peed on myself. I shrug my shoulders because there’s not really anything I can do about it, and then I let them know it’s okay to continue our trek into the valley. “Let’s keep going. We’re exposed out here,” I say to my three companions.

  James and Victoria slowly set off down the cliffside again, but Kale waits for me. He asks me, “Are you sure you’re okay? Can I do anything to help you?”

  “Well, unless you can carry me, no, not really. But thanks for asking.” I offer him a small smile.

  “I can try,” he says as he goes to set the water filled boots on the boulder.

  “No. I was kidding.” Man, Kale’s so nice to me. He’s so nice to Victoria too. I guess he really is just a nice person. I honestly thought he was trying to get me to comply with the Keepers demands about mating. “Thanks for offering,” I say. Thanking him makes me instantly think about James, and the fact that he’s not standing here with me. I ask myself: Did I get too caught up in James’ good looks? I know I’m hardheaded. Is this me being hardheaded, trying to follow through with something that I’ve spent so much time on?

  Before heading down, I say to Kale, “Thank you for being such a good friend. I’m really glad that you’re here. Well, not that you had to leave a safer zoo, but . . . whatever . . . you know what I mean. Come on.” Kale smiles at me and I turn bright red. Trying to escape the somewhat awkward admission, I set off after our two western companions.

  As I once again descend the cliff, I am extra-super-duper careful. And oh, this sucks. I bite my lip to keep from crying as pain shoots up my legs and back with every step I take. We have to climb over some humongous boulders toward the base of the valley. To get around them requires that we sort of sit and scoot down the side of them.

  I can’t keep my pain contained any longer. I have to let out a groan that seems so loud in my own head that I almost don’t hear the gunfire.

  RUN LIKE YOU ARE BEING CHASED BY A CRAZY CLOWN CARRYING A KNIFE . . . EXCEPT IT’S REALLY A COWBOY WITH A GUN

  I’ve always had a “totally normal” fear of clowns, but now I’m starting to fear a lot of other things, including having a gun aimed at me. Our path down into the valley leads us conveniently toward James’ preferred destination of the western town. We seem to have made our entrance in the midst of a drunken bar brawl.

  A man lies dead in the middle of the dusty street with buckshot peppering his chest. His cowboy hat, chap-wearing attacker is now holding his shotgun shoulder high with the barrel pointing in our direction. All I can think is: How in the hell did he get a gun in here? This changes everything. Well, it changes a lot. Not only do we have to worry about getting stolen by men, fighting for food, traveling without weapons to get water, and finding somewhere to sleep, we now have to worry about the possibility of getting shot with a gun. Not good.

  We are still a good distance from the gun-slinging psycho. So when James yells, “Run!” we all haul ass toward the suburban homes without a second’s hesitation.

  The man with the gun is hollering with a thick country twang, “Hey! You had better get back here with them fancy boots! I need me some new boots!” He sounds crazy, or maybe he’s pumped up full of adrenaline from his recent kill—or should I say murder.

  As if that isn’t stressful enough, we find out what the professor meant about them “getting a better show.” A passenger train with sides made entirely of glass drops in from nowhere. It hovers over us, causing us to duck and throw our arms up over our heads. It makes a sound like the flying motorcycle thing from the forest. The forced air from the bottom of the hovering train is pushing my hair this way and that way. It twists up in a spiral and then whips down in my face. The sting of my hair lingers on my cheek, but thankfully missed my right eye by just a few centimeters.

  James, being so tall, failed to duck down far enough. His head barely brushes the bottom of the train, which sends an electric shock through his body. The jolt throws him to the ground. Unfortunately, the bow and arrow fly out of James’ hands and skitters across the ground, stopping several feet away. James lies still. Then he twitches from the currents still flowing through his helpless body.

  “Kale!” I scream as I pause beside James.

  Kale hands me a boot of water and then hurries to James’ side. He pulls him to his feet as best he can. Kale supports James with one arm and carries the other boot of water with his free hand. Victoria scrambles for our only weapon, while the gun-crazed cowboy gains on us. We run once again. The cowboy fires a shot. None of us fall . . . So, I figure he must have missed, and I’m pretty sure he’s drunk by the way he’s stumbling along.

  I whip my head around to see how close he is to us. Eighty yards give or take. Then, I notice the train is following us, hovering right behind. The faces of youth are pressed to the glass, watching with fascination. Adults are pointing and laughing at our misfortune. I’m so happy that we can provide such an entertaining show for them.

  We fly up the front steps of a porch at the closest home. It’s a white colonial. I pound on the door but no one answers. Water is sloshing out of the top of the boots from all my jostling and running around the home’s porch. We didn’t notice that the windows were blown out when we reached this house, but now I look inside the shell that was once a beautiful home. The inside is completely gutted and partially burned. There’s nothing left here. I briefly wonder what happened.

  “Go! Go!” I yell to my companions. “Go to the next house.” As we leave behind the home that is deceptively appealing from the outside, I notice that it’s not that way on all sides. One of the back rooms is completely missing. Black scars eat at the white paint where the house is still intact, and just below a crispy window are its room’s vomited contents. Part of a curtain rod, shattered dishes, a few melted pa
ns, and a frame with no picture litter the ground. All have been burned to some degree.

  The next house is a huge, traditional style home with yellow siding and green shutters. I hesitate for a second, wondering if it’s safe after seeing the house next door. The cowboy hollers something unintelligible behind us. It prompts me to stop wondering. The door is locked when I try the knob. I don’t believe it and turn the doorknob over and over with no better luck. I beat my fists on the smooth surface of the door with all my might. Someone has to open it. We’re out of options.

  The door opens a crack and I scream, “Please let us in! Please!”

  Kale doesn’t wait for an answer. He leans James against me and then rams his shoulder into the door, forcing it open. Water sprays up from the boot as he makes impact. We all push forward after him, each of us slipping on the wet porch as we make our way inside. I am the last in. I slam the wooden barrier shut behind me.

  There’s a loud pop from the man’s shotgun, but nothing seems to happen. “Get yerselves out here!” the mad gunman shouts. “I said I need me some new boots!”

  Inside the house is a teenage girl holding a sleek black handgun. She’s crouched under a window that she slides open just enough to fit the gun barrel through. “Get off my porch asshole! You know better than to screw with this house! You won’t win here!” she yells. Her voice is raspy.

  She fires a warning shot, which causes the man to backpedal off the porch as fast as his scrawny legs will carry him. He trips on the last step, falls to his knees, and then quickly scrambles back up to his feet. The crazed cowboy raises his shotgun over his head in defeat, and with his tail tucked between his legs, he hurries back toward the western town where he will still be king in his reign of terror.

  “You left your balls on the porch, man!” the girl yells after him.

  Relief washes over me and I’m sure my companions as well. I slide down to the floor to catch my breath, but am interrupted when our savior turns her gun on us and says, “You have five seconds to get out of my house.”

  SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE US A BREAK

  The girl holding the handgun is dressed in a black tank top with black skinny jeans and black combat boots. Her nose is pierced with a tiny diamond stud. She has jet-black hair with a brilliant streak of teal running down one side. Her intense eyes, accentuated by her thick black eyeliner, are the same color teal as in her hair. Where in the world is she getting eyeliner? Seriously.

  She’s beautiful and scary at the same time. So it’s no surprise that I flinch when she demands that we leave. “Out!” she commands.

  “Please. Please let us stay. Just for a little while,” I beg her. Victoria is whimpering somewhere behind me.

  She points her gun at me. I notice that her hands aren’t shaking at all, and this makes me believe that she will actually shoot me if she has to. She answers my plea, “No.”

  Kale walks toward her and she shifts her aim. He lifts his empty hands and says, “We need someone to explain this place to us. We’re new. We promise we’ll be out of your way very soon. Please. You seem like a nice girl.” He gives her a playful smile. “And we’re nice people too. My name is Kale and that’s Emma, Victoria, and James. So, will you help us?”

  Is he seriously flirting with her? Well, whatever works. Hopefully she’ll fall for his cute smile and smartass charm.

  She lowers her weapon as a sense of recognition passes over her face. Her body language changes and she surprisingly says, “We have rules about not letting anyone stay here. The guys will kick my butt. But you’re lucky it’s me here today and not them, because I make the rules . . . and I like to break all the rules. Especially when it can help people who actually need help. You never know around here.” I’m shocked by how fast she gives in. The girl shoves her gun in the waist of her jeans and adds, “The guys will be back soon, so you’ll need to eat and rest up, and then get the 2050’s out of here.”

  Get the 2050’s out of here—what exactly does that mean?

  “When are they coming back?” James asks, ignoring the strange phrase.

  She looks around at all of us, trying to decide how much to tell us. I can see in her face and body the second she decides. My whole being relaxes when she says, “Tomorrow. So you gads need to leave first thing in the morning. Got it? And don’t forget who has the gun.”

  “Thank you,” Kale says to her.

  “Do you have any food?” Victoria boldly asks. Her fake tears stopped the second the girl gave us permission to stay.

  “Victoria, hush.” James scolds her like the child she is.

  “But I’m starving,” she whines.

  James starts to scold her again, but the girl interrupts, “Yeah, I’ll get you gads some food. There’s a free bedroom upstairs with a bathroom. Last door on the left.” She points her finger at me and says, “You look like you could use some clothes. Take a look in the dresser and pick something out. You all had better not make me regret this.” Um, did she just make fun of my super-awesome sack dress? How embarrassing, but I’ll take the free clothes.

  “What’s your name?” I ask her.

  “Kansas,” she says.

  “Kansas? Are you from our time? We were all born in the 18 and 1900’s.”

  “No, closer to this time. I had family from Kansas, long ago,” she explains. “It was probably still a state when you were in your old life, right?”

  What?

  “Um. Yeah. Kansas was a state. It’s not now?”

  “Oh. No. We haven’t had states in over 150 years.”

  What?

  I remind myself to focus on the present and thank this girl for all she is doing for us. I’ll have time for freaking out about the politics later. Maybe. “Look, Kansas, thank you so much for letting us stay. We’ll find a way to repay you somehow. I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises here. You’ll never be able to keep them. And I don’t want you to repay me. I was new here once too.” She sets off toward the back of the living room, presumably heading toward the kitchen to find some food for her starving refugees.

  Ah crap, I think I’m going to cry. I take a deep breath and suck it all back in. I need to enjoy the next 12 hours of peace, because after it’s over, we’re going to be thrown right back out there.

  IS IT POSSIBLE TO HAVE A HEAVEN IN HELL?

  I take the stairs two at a time and almost run to the last door on the left. I nearly faint when I see the clean bed with a luxurious, lavender comforter and oversized pillows, the dresser, and two sitting chairs. The urge to throw myself on the bed is strong, but I don’t want to soil the beautiful linens. I stop to smell it on my way to the shower, though. It smells like laundry detergent and heaven. Oh my goodness, that’s the best smell ever!

  I open the door to the bathroom and see myself in the mirror over the sink. I look like hell. My hair is matted and my body is dirty. I turn around and lift my dress. I discover that my backside is raw from the fall I took, but there’s nothing too serious. It’s all scrapes. Instead of cleaning my dress and tiny panties when I shower, I throw them in the trashcan by the toilet. I’ll never have to wear those horrible things again. Yay! But I take care to roll up the cord that I’ve been wearing as a belt and hide it under the bed for safekeeping.

  The water in the shower is warm and amazing. There is shampoo, conditioner, and soap. They all smell like vanilla. I was totally wrong about the bed—this is the best smell ever. And oh, this is absolutely the best shower I’ve ever taken in my life! I don’t want to get out, but I know the others will be anxious to get cleaned up once they finish eating.

  I check my back out in the mirror again, now that my scrapes are clean. It looks much better, but still stings. Then, I brush my hair out with a comb that I found in a drawer by the sink. It slides easily through my hair because of the vanilla scented conditioner. I finish drying off with a fresh towel and wrap it around my body to cover myself while I look for the clothing Kansas said I could have. The bedroom is still empty when I
go to dig through the dresser drawers. I open the top drawer and find boy short panties and sports bras. Score on the panties! They fit well enough—a little tight but I’m not complaining. The next drawer down has a lot of black and gray t-shirts. These must be Kansas’ things. I have a whole new respect for her now that I realize she’s giving us her room for the night and me her clothes.

  I choose a gray fitted shirt and a pair of regular blue jeans. There are only two pairs of regular jeans in the whole dresser. Everything else is black and super-tight looking. I don’t take any socks because I don’t have shoes. It doesn’t make sense to me to run around in muddy socks. So I’ll just have to keep working on building up some tough soles of my own.

  What I would give for a pedicure…

  Back downstairs; everyone is in the kitchen eating when I make my way in there to join them. The walls are painted a bright citrus yellow, and the cabinets are white with granite countertops. I can almost imagine that I’m back home for a second, hanging out with my friends. Kale hands me a plate with half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and half a banana. “Here, saved this for you. You look nice, and you smell great!” he says with a smile.

  “Thanks,” I say timidly as I glance over to James who hasn’t noticed me at all. I turn back to Kale as ask, “Is this PB&J?”

  “Yeah. Great, right?” Kale says.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s sticking to the roof of my mouth,” Victoria mumbles from across the kitchen island as she jams her finger into her mouth.

  James is sitting quietly, on his own, at the breakfast table. He looks like he has a million things on his mind. He’s already eaten his food and is now picking up the remaining crumbs and eating them.