Zoo

by Tara Elizabeth

  “Oh. That’s terrible.” Poor guy. I can see how this place might make you want to end it all, and if I wasn’t so determined to get out of here I might consider it myself. No, that’s not true. But I still feel for him.

  Once we reach my bedroom door, he opens it wide and says, “Someone will be around later to bring you lunch.” He reaches into his coat pocket. I back up instinctively, worried he means to do me harm.

  Cat’s wrinkled eyes crinkle up even more as he smiles at me. He pulls out an old book from a pocket hidden within his coat. The cover is worn and the corners are tattered. He hands it to me and says, “Thought you could use something to occupy your time. Don’t tell the King.” Then, he winks at me.

  “How did you get this?” I haven’t seen a book since being here. I smile back at Cat as I read the title of the book, Emma. I’ve never read this Jane Austen book.

  “The houses in the valley were stocked with books. The King trades weapons, fresh eggs, or meat for them. He likes to read when he’s not decapitating people.” Cat chuckles at his poor joke.

  “Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.” I clutch the book to my chest as Cat bows. He closes the door behind him. It clicks as the lock engages.

  ***

  I hate this book!

  I’ve been reading in dim candlelight for what seems like hours, and this Emma chick is completely clueless. She’s obsessing over this stupid Frank Churchill guy when she should be with Mr. Knightley. She’s so blind! And truth be told, she’s a lot like me.

  I let the book flop on the bed as I pluck a purple grape from what’s left of my lunch. I can’t lie that it’s delicious, but the grape and the book are only helping me to pass the time until my next opportunity to escape. I haven’t forgotten about Kale or Victoria or ultimately leaving this whole place. Unfortunately for me, I can’t even make a plan. I don’t know my way around this place or what the best way out would be. I need to find out.

  I roll off the bed, straighten my fluffy dress, and then I bang on the thick wooden door. Seconds later, I step back as someone unlocks my prison cell. It’s Cat again. “Do you think I could go for a walk outside? I’m starting to feel a little queasy from being locked up in this dark room. I think I need some fresh air and sunlight. I don’t care how many guards have to come with us. I just need to get out of this room. Please,” I beg him.

  He starts to huff and look around for someone else to intervene, but it’s just the two of us. I give him my best sad face. “Please,” I say again.

  “I suppose so, M’Lady. Guards!” He calls down the hallway. His voice echoes off the cold, stone walls.

  Two men wearing brown leather pants and thin chain mail that covers their beige peasant tops appear from the stairwell. They have their swords drawn, ready for action. But there’s no action here. They holster their swords. No, wait. That’s not right. They . . . Umm . . . They put their swords back in their holders and bow to Cat when they realize there’s no danger. Re-sheath? Whatever . . .

  One of them respectfully asks Cat, “How may we be of service, sir?”

  Hmm. Sir. Must be a pretty important servant.

  Cat gestures toward me as he replies, “The Lady would like to take a walk outside. We need escorts.”

  “As you wish, sir.” The man bows and waits for us to lead the way down the hallway.

  We leave the large building and enter the courtyard that I remember passing through when I arrived. It’s large and there are farm animals in little pens and women attending to them. There are children pretending to sword fight with sticks. The men are all standing guard somewhere and looking very alert.

  I try to memorize my surroundings without being too obvious. There are no doors that I can magically escape through. There’s only the front gate. Unless I suddenly sprout wings and fly Kale and myself out of here, it doesn’t look good.

  People bow to me as I approach them and whisper to each other once I’ve passed. They’re most likely talking about the huge handprint on my cheek. I’m sure James left a mark. I hate him! Really, what was I thinking when I had such a huge crush on him? I guess I was only thinking; wow, that guy’s hot.

  Above us, a flying train filled with gawking people floats by. It pauses, watching the goings-on of the castle. Then it shifts and moves to the far side of the courtyard, perhaps being attracted to the man who has slipped in horse manure.

  Cat is slowly walking ahead of me. The late afternoon sun casts a rosy tint on his white downy hair, and as if on cue, he starts to hum a lullaby . . . a lullaby that I know very well.

  MEOW

  Cat is humming the lullaby that Auntie Josephine used to sing to me every night in those last weeks. Surely this couldn’t be…

  “Edward?” I whisper, as I step beside him.

  He stops at the sound of the name. I follow suit, as do the guards that are following us. We are all at a standstill. “I haven’t heard that name in a very long time,” he says. “How did you obtain this knowledge?”

  “Before I came here, Josephine Derby was in the enclosure next door to me. She sometimes sang that lullaby to me at night. She thinks you’re dead,” I answer him, my heart aching for the broken couple.

  Cat starts to shuffle forward again. He whispers so the guards won’t overhear. “I loved her very much, but I suppose it wasn’t enough. I regret so much.” He changes directions and starts heading back to the building where my room resides. :(

  I have to get this back on track. I’m not ready to go back inside yet. “I know she loved you very much too. She talked about you a lot. She misses you. She sings your favorite songs to the public almost everyday.”

  He snorts. “She was always performing for them. It drove me mad. Literally.”

  “Maybe that’s her way of making it through each day.” It’s no use. We are already heading back up the stairs, back to my prison within a prison. Before he locks me away, I ask him, “How is Kale? Please tell me something.”

  “That’ll be all guards.” He shoos the two men away. They descend the stairs, boots pounding on the steps as they go.

  When they are out of earshot, he turns back to me. “He’s not well, but he could be worse. James has him chained up in the dungeon. He has a large cut over his eye, and his lip is swollen. I’ve taken water to him several times against the King’s wishes. I’ve always been a bit softhearted.” His smile is gentle when he tells me, “He’s asked after you. I told him you were well to keep his spirits up.”

  “Does he know what they have planned for him?”

  “He does. He’s accepted his fate. He knows that you will be taken care of after it’s over.”

  I’m such a girl. My hands fly up to cover my mouth, and I shake my head as I start to cry.

  “Now, now. Things aren’t always as they seem. Just be patient. The time is near. Sleep well, M’Lady.” Cat shuts the door, leaving me with the little riddle.

  Why can’t people just say what they mean? How am I supposed to interpret that?

  I throw myself onto the bed. I don’t bother with my dress, but I loosen my hair and eventually work the tight braid out. Waves of hair fall over my shoulders. My scalp aches but feels good at the same time.

  I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, trying to come up with a plan to get to Kale. Even if I can’t get us out of here, I can at least try to get to him to tell him I love him one last time.

  The dungeon . . . I think the dungeon is below this building. I saw a guard go down a stairwell on the first floor when we came back in. It’s the only place that seems appropriate for a dungeon, unless it’s under the gatehouse.

  Tomorrow I will try again. I will make a run for it after breakfast or try to pick the lock to my door with something that I’ve snuck back with me. Something. I will do something tomorrow when I see an opportunity.

  And isn’t tomorrow the Keepers’ routine check? I wonder if they do that here.

  I fall asleep while reading Emma and dream of Mr. Knightley, although, he lo
oks like Kale in my mind. He calls me “Princess” and walks with me through never-ending gardens, until it all fades away and there’s only me in a black void, struggling to find the light again.

  ***

  Once again, I am forced to eat breakfast with the King and James. I smile at all the right times and thank the King for his hospitality. I even tell him that I can’t wait for our wedding tomorrow. All the while, I’m sliding my butter knife up the sleeve of my pale blue gown.

  The King says, “The Keepers do in fact come today. They show up in hordes, appearing out of walls and trees and then disappearing as quickly as they come. They will run checks on all the people and animals, and then they’ll leave food in various locations throughout the enclosure. Tomorrow will be a huge trading day,” he tells me.

  I nod politely as I run through different escape scenarios. I figure the trading means there will be fewer guards tomorrow—and now I have a butter knife to battle my way out of here.

  He tells us, “I owe the Red Temple two chickens and a pig in exchange for your wedding gown. Apparently, they have the best seamstress around. Our wedding will be in the evening after the trades take place.”

  “I can’t wait,” I say with a smile.

  After the meal is over, the King asks Cat to return me to my room. He’s done stuffing his face and tells me he needs to attend to some kingly duties. Cat is quiet and shifty today, like he knows something but won’t spill the beans. He winks at me as he shuts the door, locking me up.

  I slide my butter knife out of my sleeve and lay it on the bed. I need to be patient, but I’m so antsy to see Kale. I need to get us out of here. I pace the room. I stop to read the book once again, but can’t concentrate. I start to pace again from one wall to the other—back and forth—again and again.

  All of a sudden, I notice the Keeper standing in the corner of the room watching me. He’s holding a scanner that is presumably taking in my biometrics. I wait for him to finish and leave. He doesn’t. Instead, he starts walking toward me.

  I back away from him and grab the butter knife off of the bed. I hold it out in front of me to warn him away. Then he does the most peculiar thing. He takes off the hood of his white suit and drops it to the floor.

  I open my mouth to scream when I see who it is.

  THE MYSTERY KEEPER

  It’s him! It’s the guy that would always watch me and tap his watch. He’s here! He’s a Keeper! And as I said, I open my mouth to scream, but he rushes across the room before much of anything escapes my lungs. He covers my mouth with his hand, and with his other hand, he knocks my knife to the ground. I cringe, waiting for his Keeper suit to shock me. It doesn’t.

  I struggle against him as those familiar eyes search mine. “Shh!” he whispers. “Emma, stop it. Emma. Stop.”

  How the hell does he know my name? The Keepers don’t know us. We’re just animals to them. What’s going on?

  “I’m here to help you. It’s almost time. Please listen to me,” he begs.

  I calm my breathing and myself. I stop fighting him. Maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe he can help me. Help us.

  “Good. Now, listen carefully. Tomorrow is trade day. It’s also the day that the Rebels will rise up. There will be a war here tomorrow. Do you understand? Most of the captives here know about it, but not all. The King does not, because he likes it here. So don’t speak to anyone here about it, except Cat. He will help you. Some of the Keepers are involved, and the protestors you saw before will be helping.” He pauses for a breath. His eyes are urgent and his body is tense.

  “I don’t understand.” I say confused.

  “There are a lot of people that know this is wrong—putting people in a zoo—but no matter how hard we fight the global laws, we haven’t been able to change them. So tomorrow we are going to break the glass domes . . . hundreds of them . . . all over the world. We’re going to free everyone who wants to be free. And your statement on the glass wall helped speed things along. The public wasn’t really sure that the captives weren’t okay with being in there. The public is told that you chose this fate over death. But the true word spread quickly.”

  “Okay, but where are all these people going to go? Most of them won’t be able to function in your society, if it’s anything like what I think it is. Where will they live? What will they eat?” What the hell is wrong with me? This is exactly what I’ve wanted to happen, but the reality of it scares me.

  He answers me, “Most will do just fine. They will blend in. You’ve seen how people dress in today’s world. Well, it’s not just the way they dress. They take it to the extreme and live as the people of that era and culture lived. They’ll find people like them. They’ll be okay. Anyways, these people can be whoever they want to be. And as far as food and homes, we have a plan for that. It’s already in place. Each person will be given a new identity. We are inserting identity chips today during our rounds.”

  He pulls out a small device that looks like a futuristic mini-gun. On the end is a small needle. In his other hand he holds tiny black dots the size of a grain of salt. “These will be implanted into the index finger of their right hand. It holds a new identity, an account number with credits, and an address for a living pod. This has been a long time in the making. We have saved and planned for decades.”

  “Why are you helping me?” I ask him. “And why do I recognize you? Why did Kale recognize you?”

  “I won’t be giving you an injection. Or Kale.” He ignores my questions and puts the identity injection back in his pocket.

  “Why? I want to leave. Please help me. Please help us!” I start to panic.

  “I’m sending you back to your old life. Both of you.”

  I start to weep. “No, I don’t want to die. I want to live. If you send us back, we’ll die.”

  He takes my hand. “No. You will live,” he says with confidence.

  I shake my head. “No. Please don’t do this.”

  “Look at me,” he says. “Look at my eyes. You know me because I’m your descendant. I’m here because you lived. I’m here because Kale lived.”

  What did he just say?

  “Whatever you’re thinking is right. Now, I have to leave, and you have to do some things on your own to get out of here. This could all still go to hell, so be careful. It’s my life too that we’re talking about. I’d like to still exist at the end of the day tomorrow.” He lets my hand go and walks over to his discarded hood.

  “Tomorrow the women will bring you breakfast and primp you for your vows. The rebellion will start mid-morning, so you’ll need to get to the dungeon for Kale before then. The Rebels will be breaking the enclosure’s dome. This will send the people here into a state of panic, since most of them won’t be expecting it and the ones that are will be trying to get out. The dungeon is below this building. Cat will be waiting for you with the keys. Take them and free Kale. There is a tunnel at the other end of the dungeon. Take it. There’ll be a horse waiting for you. You’ll need to make it to the Safe Zone as quickly as possible. When you get there, you’re going to have to get in the well.”

  “Get in the well?”

  “Yes. Lower yourselves in. Then you’ll have to swim down until you feel a panel with a button. Press the button. You have to press the button. Not Kale. I was only able to program one set of prints into the scanner. A hatch will open, and that’s where I’ll be waiting for you. Understand?”

  “You want us to swim to the bottom of a well? Are you crazy? We’ll drown.”

  “You won’t drown,” he assures me.

  “Isn’t there an easier way to do this?”

  “No, sorry.” He puts the head covering back on his suit.

  Before he leaves, I ask, “What’s your name?”

  “Kai,” he says. I can tell he’s smiling by the way his eyes light up—the same way Kale’s do.

  “Kai, is your suit going to shock me if I hug you?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head no. I cautiously walk over to him an
d open my arms to embrace my great-great-great-whatever-grandson. This is so weird, but so right. I knew that I knew him. How could I not? He’s part of me.

  OMG!

  That was completely insane and amazing! I just met my great-great-great-whatever-grandson. Has that ever happened to anyone . . . ever? I don’t think so. And he’s Kale’s. That means Kale and I . . .

  OMG!

  Breathe, Emma.

  Once again, I take up pacing the room and wishing the night away. Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough. FOCUS!

  I have to remember what he said. Get to Kale. Escape through the tunnel. Get to the Safe Zone. Cross my fingers and pray we don’t drown in the well. I can do that. We can do that.

  I work the butter knife back and forth in my hands as I continue to pace. I’m full of nervous energy. Then I get excited and a smile breaks over my mouth. WE HAVE A PLAN! THERE’S A PLAN! I bite my lower lip so I don’t squeal with joy.

  Wait. Shit. What about Victoria? I didn’t ask him about Victoria. I hope she’s okay wherever she is. I can’t just leave her here in the middle of a war. We’ll have to find her and take her with us.

  After wearing myself out mentally, I blow out the candles that line the walls and then crawl into the large bed. I toss and turn. SLEEP, I urge myself. I count sheep. I count happy puppy dogs. I hum Auntie Josephine’s lullaby, but it’s all useless. I’m too anxious.

  ***

  My door creaks opens and four women scurry in. They all look the same, with brown and beige dresses. Their mousy, brown hair is pulled back from their round faces. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I’m having a hard time rousing.