by Cassie Cole
Rachel Koenig.
She was perfect for the job. Exactly the kind of person we needed to bring in here and help us right this ship. But she was also terribly, tremendously beautiful. That much was obvious when I gave her the tour of the zoo. Tight black jeans that framed a heart-shaped ass. Waves of blonde hair that I desperately wanted to run my hands through. And full, luscious lips that were pouty when she examined the zoo.
And then how she looked at the hotel. She wore that bra and panties like she was a swimsuit model. Even after she put a t-shirt on, I could barely hear myself think when I was in the room with her. We had definitely shared a moment together, there at the end. Right before I left. I was certain that if I had made a move like I wanted to, pushing her down onto the bed and ripping her panties off, then burying my cock inside of her…
“Hey David,” Anthony cut in.
I blinked. “Yeah?”
“You gone through dad’s stuff yet? I mean, his stuff stuff. Not the business stuff.”
I sighed. “Not yet. I was waiting for Jake.”
He stabbed a finger in my direction like he had caught me in a lie. “Ah hah! So you do think he’ll show up.”
“I really, really don’t,” I said wearily. “But on the off chance that he does, I want us to go through everything together.”
Anthony’s smile faded. “That’s a good idea. The three of us. Like when we were kids.”
The room was silent with tension. I had peeked in dad’s bedroom the day we arrived. It was a mess of boxes, clothes, and other junk. The last thing I wanted was to go through everything there. Not just because it would be a pain in the ass, either… But because it would be emotionally draining. Our father was dead and we needed to sort through his affairs.
“What else you need me to do?” Anthony said. “I mean, when I get this done.”
“I don’t know yet. It took me three hours to feed the animals according to the schedule. I’m sure there’s a million other things that need to be done that aren’t written down. Hopefully Rachel can help us come up with a list.”
Another smile crept on his face. “She’s cool, right?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
His smirk deepened. “Sure you do. I saw the way you looked at her today. No judgement—I was looking at her the same. She’s hot as fuck.”
“She’s perfect for the job,” I said evenly. “And that’s all that matters.”
Anthony narrowed his eyes at me. “Right. That’s all that matters. Sure. Whatever you say, big brother.” He winked conspicuously.
I laughed. “It’s good to see you again. Despite the circumstances.”
He blushed and returned his eyes to his laptop. “Yeah, definitely. It’s great to see you too.”
Dad’s house—the same house we had grown up in—was a short walk from the zoo. It didn’t feel like home anymore. It was too big, too empty without dad in it. For all his faults, Carl Haines had a larger-than-life personality. A mohawk-quaffed showman who tackled every task with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever. He was the kind of man whose personality took over whatever room or building he was in. His absence was deafening.
On the way to my room, I passed the master bedroom. The door was closed, and I had been afraid to look inside. Tonight curiosity won over. I twisted the doorknob and the creak of old hinges filled the house. The room was large, larger than it needed to be to fit the four-post bed, dresser, and dad’s big metal safe. But the rest of the space was filled with boxes. Without looking, I knew they were full of local newspapers and magazines where dad or the zoo had been mentioned. Any time the paper ran a story on the zoo, dad bought as many copies as he could from every gas station in Blue Lake and the surrounding towns. He had a theory that increased demand would make the newspaper think he was popular, and therefore run more stories on him.
We would need to go through dad’s stuff eventually. For now, I didn’t have the emotional energy. First the zoo. We could deal with dad’s personal effects when that was done.
I slept like crap, and my dreams were intense and full of sorrow.
I woke up while it was still dark, ate a big breakfast, and then headed to the zoo to get an early start. Even though it wasn’t my fault, Rachel’s tirade about the state of the zoo left me feeling guilty. This place was a mess.
The food prep building was the best place to start. The fluorescent lights hummed in the ceiling and cast a too-white light on everything. The room smelled dank and sour, like rancid meat. I found a bucket of cleaning supplies and set to work scrubbing the floor. Some of the stains were set into the concrete permanently, but there was plenty of dried meat and other food leftovers that scraped off underneath my scrubbing brush. I tried not to gag as it came away and gathered in a pinkish sludge around the drain in the middle of the floor.
At eight, my walkie-talkie squawked. “She’s here.”
I put away my cleaning supplies, cleaned off my arms and hands, and then went to meet Rachel. I found her and Anthony chatting outside the visitor’s center. She wore tight khaki shorts and a dry-fit polo that hugged her chest. Her blonde waves were pulled back in a tight ponytail. She looked like she was ready to work. Her wide mouth smiled when she saw me, and she waved.
A tightness in my chest loosened at the sight of her. Rachel was the help we desperately needed in the zoo. It felt like our savior had arrived. And deeper than that, I realized I was eager to see her again on a personal level.
She’s just an employee, I thought stubbornly. Nothing else.
7
Rachel
“Don’t get too excited,” I said into my phone while driving. “It’s not a permanent job. Just a short-term contract.”
“It’s the same thing to me,” my mom insisted. “You’ve got a job already! I told you people would be knocking down your door to get someone like you!”
I rolled my eyes. Mom was acting like I had won the Nobel Peace Prize.
“Where is it, exactly?”
“It’s a zoo down in North Carolina,” I said. Best to keep it vague. “Outside of Fayetteville. Real small. They need some extra staff for the busy summer months.”
“Your father and I are so excited! Why don’t you sound happy about this, Rachel?”
“I guess I’m still in shock,” I admitted. “This sort of fell into my lap. It’s all happening really fast. I’m almost here, so I have to go. Tell dad I love him!”
I pulled into the Crazy Carl’s Zoo parking lot. This time I parked up front so I wouldn’t have to walk as far. I wondered if I should bring any of my stuff with me—my Accord was filled with four suitcases and a trunkload of boxes. I decided it could wait until later.
The employee gate was locked, just like yesterday. Anthony came jogging up to unlock it. “Morning! No need to jump the fence this time. I’ll get the door for you.”
I grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
He grinned widely. “You kidding? That was a hell of a sight, you scrambling over the top and running like Ted Bundy was chasing you. We can laugh about it now. Thanks for coming.”
I could see the resemblance between Anthony and his brother. The same strong jaw and wide shoulders, though Anthony was slightly less muscular. He was also more upbeat and charming than David. I liked him immediately.
“Thanks for giving me a second chance,” I said as I followed him into the zoo. “David told me everything. I’m sorry about your dad.”
His warm smile wavered for an instant, and he looked down at the ground. “Yeah, it sucks. The funeral the other day was tough. But hey, what can you do? Right? Life sucks sometimes.”
I swept my arm around. “So you guys inherited this place.”
“Fell right into our laps. And we know jack shit about taking care of animals. Fuck us, right?”
We laughed, and I said, “Good thing you hired me.”
“David told you the plan? To try to find good homes for all these animals?”
“That plan is the only
reason I’m helping you,” I replied. “If you were reopening the zoo to sell tiger selfies and illegal breeding and all the other crap, I wouldn’t have come back.” I looked sideways at him. “Did you two consider just selling the whole zoo and the animals?”
“We kicked the tires on the idea for about ten minutes,” Anthony admitted. “But then decided that would be a fucked up thing to do. We want to make sure these animals go to good homes, not shitty private owners that want an exotic pet. You seen Tiger King? On Netflix?”
I chuckled. “Everyone has been asking me that. No, I never saw it.”
“Really? You didn’t binge it during the pandemic last year?”
“Nope. Spent the quarantine studying. I was too busy getting my doctorate to watch TV.”
“Good for you,” he said genuinely. “I wish I had that much willpower. I mean, I was busy as hell during the quarantine, but I still watched an episode every night.”
“What do you do?” I asked. “Normally, I mean.”
“I’m a computer programmer up in the Triangle. I work for a company in Raleigh, but during the quarantine I took on a bunch of freelance jobs. All these companies were scrambling to find ways to let their people work from home. I worked sixteen hour days for three straight months.”
“Wow. That sucks.”
“No way! I made a ton of money. Hustling my ass off. The good news is I can still do my job remotely. I’ll be doing that while I’m here, plus whatever other work needs doing.”
“Wait. You’re going to keep working a full-time job while you’re here, plus helping with the animals?”
Anthony stopped in front of the visitor’s center and grinned. “I’m good at what I do. Really good. I can finish a week’s worth of coding projects in an afternoon. I’ll have plenty of downtime to focus on the zoo.”
David walked toward us. He was sweaty like he had been working for several hours already, and his muscles held a sexy sheen. I smiled and waved at him.
“Wasn’t sure if you would show up this morning,” he said.
“Your speech convinced me.”
David looked around. “Do you want to see where you’ll be staying first? I don’t know how much stuff you have to unpack, or if you want to get situated first…”
“That can wait until later. I’ve already showered and eaten a cheap continental breakfast. Let’s get right to work.”
“Awesome. I’ll show you what I’ve done so far this morning.”
“Have fun you two,” Anthony said happily. “Don’t get eaten! Hey, don’t laugh. I’m half serious. It would totally ruin my day if you got eaten by a tiger, Rachel.”
“Only her?” David asked. “If I got eaten, it wouldn’t ruin your day?”
“It would ruin my morning,” Anthony replied. “But I’d get over it by lunch. I’ve got too much shit to do.”
David led me to the food preparation building. I steeled myself for the dank, rancid smell that had plagued it yesterday, but to my surprise it smelled like bleach. The floor was damp and there was a ring of suds where David must have been cleaning. One of the preparation tables was also freshly scrubbed, as well as the table with the butcher’s band saw. The vertical blade had been cleaned so well that now it shone in the light.
“You’ve put a dent in this,” I said approvingly.
David grunted. “Only took four hours. But I figure it’s clean enough to use.”
“I was serious about the band saw,” I said. “It’s missing the safety guard. If someone’s hand slips…”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said with a deep sigh. “Half the stuff in this zoo is broken down or out of date. We’re trying to decide what’s worth upgrading and what is good enough for now. I’ll do all of the meat cutting, don’t worry. You won’t have to risk yourself.”
“Fair enough.”
He pointed. “The animal feeding schedule is over there, if you want to take a look.”
I picked up a clipboard that was hanging from a chain on the wall. There was a list of animals and how many pounds of meat they needed to receive. The list was three pages long.
“This shows how much to give them each day,” I said. “What are their fasting days?”
“Their what?” David asked.
Of course. David had just inherited this place. He had no idea what anything was because he had never taken care of big cats before. I needed to be patient and educate him as best as I could.
“Big cats don’t eat every day in the wild. They’ll usually make a kill once or twice a week and gorge themselves. In captivity we try to find a middle ground by feeding them five days a week, then giving them two days off to fast. That’s what zoologists have determined to be the best schedule.”
He nodded. “Makes sense. I haven’t seen any schedule like that, though. This place isn’t the most organized when it comes to process documentation.”
“No worries. We’ll figure it out.” I opened the industrial freezers and examined the stores of meat. Racks of half-cow hung inside most of them, along with shelves of smaller meat packages stamped with dates. Plus tubs filled with chicken parts. Everything looked solid. That made one aspect of this zoo that wasn’t totally screwed up.
I found what I needed in the next row of cabinets: tubs of vitamin packets and powder tubs. Another plus for this place.
I nodded at the band saw. “You know how to use that thing?”
“I know enough to avoid cutting my fingers off. Probably the same for meat as it is for wood.”
“If you prep the food, I can take it to the cages.” I handed him the clipboard. “Prep the first eight for me. They’re all big cats, so ten pounds each.”
“Coming right up.”
While he moved meat from the fridge to the table with the band saw, I prepared the stainless steel serving trays. Typically this kind of grunt work—feeding the animals—was reserved for other zoo employees rather than the veterinarian, but we were short-handed so I didn’t mind. I had a feeling most of my work here would be unorthodox. Plus I wanted to walk around and get a sense of the animals’ temperament. There was no better way to do that than feeding them.
David put on special gloves made of woven stainless steel. He positioned a half-cow section on the table and turned on the band saw. The room was filled with a whirring sound from the machinery. With skilled hands he pushed the meat through the band saw, severing a long chunk from it.
“That piece is too big,” I warned.
He turned off the machine. “I’m estimating the end weight, after I remove the bones.”
“Wait. You’ve been removing the bones?”
“Am I not supposed to?”
A laugh escaped my lips. “God, no.”
His blue eyes gazed at me evenly. “Don’t judge me too harshly. I’m new to this.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry. Big cats are prone to calcium and vitamin D deficiencies. The easiest way to fix that is to give them the bones with their meals at least twice a week. Plus it gives them something to play with.”
“Today I learned,” he said. “This is why you’re here.”
He chopped up the meat and slid them across the table. I weighed them, then placed them in individual stainless steel bins. I loaded the bins up on a Kawasaki Mule that was parked outside, then did the same with tubs of vitamin A, vitamin E, and vitamin C. Other supplies were already in the Mule: towels, a feeding pole, and keys to the individual cages.
I consulted a map of the park that looked like it was from the gift shop, mentally noting where each of the big cats was. Big Caesar was first on the list.
“I’ll be back.”
I drove the Mule through the zoo. It was a cool May morning, and the wind felt good on my face. Yesterday I had been terrified of staying unemployed for an extended period of time. Today I was driving a Mule through a private zoo, preparing to feed the tigers.
It was crazy how things worked out sometimes.
Big Caesar ended up
being the white Siberian I had met yesterday in the individual cage. He serenely watched me approach and park the Mule in front of his cage. As soon as he heard the metal bins of food clanking together he rose from his sphinx-like position and rested on his haunches like a dog waiting for a treat.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you Caesar?” I asked. “Why do they have you in this small cage instead of a bigger enclosure?”
Caesar exhaled impatiently.
A tiger’s diet was entirely comprised of meat and fat, which meant they had extreme vitamin deficiencies. To fix this, I took Caesar’s tray of meat and added vitamin supplements to it. First was a packet of liquid vitamin E that looked like a ketchup packet from McDonald’s. I squirted that all over the meat and used my bare hands to spread it around the frozen piece of cow meat. Next came the tubs of vitamin A and vitamin C powder. I dumped a scoop of each into the tray and coated the meat with it like I was seasoning a steak. Over in his cage, Caesar licked his lips hungrily.
I wiped my hands on a towel and found the key to access his cage. Not the cage proper, but to get through the outer layer of chain-linked fence that kept visitors from sticking their hands within reach of the animal. Caesar sat and waited patiently. Most zoos had dedicated food distribution slots that rotated in and out. Stick the food in, close the latch, then rotate it around so that it faced the interior. Caesar’s cage had no such mechanism. Based on how the cage bars were stained and rusted in an area directly in front of Caesar’s waiting mouth, it appeared that they pushed the food through the bars.
I hesitated. There was a food stick on the Mule I could use to insert the food from a safe distance. But part of the reason I wanted to feed the animals was to see how aggressive they were. Most zoo animals were docile enough to not attack the humans who fed them, but in shady private zoos like this that wasn’t always the case.
Slowly, I approached the cage. Even though I had done this during my residency at Florida State, I couldn’t help but feel afraid. I was essentially alone here, the only person within a hundred miles who knew what they were doing. Tigers were beautiful animals, but they were also tremendously powerful. If I wasn’t careful and he pulled my arm through the bars… That would be a very bad day.