Menagerie

by Kristy Tate

  Declan threw an arm over her shoulders and steered her back toward the hospital. “You think the best of everyone.”

  She dragged her feet, wanting to linger on the quiet street with its wide stretches of lawn and well-maintained flowerbeds. “Is that an accusation?”

  “An observation,” he said, matching his pace to hers.

  She tucked her hand into his back pocket, telling herself that a sibling might do the same. Maybe, if she had to, she could wean herself away from him, but for right now she was glad to have him beside her. She had so very few people she could depend upon. He was someone she could trust. For now, at least.

  Back at the hospital, they found John and Elizabeth eyeing each other from opposite sides of Lizbet’s mom’s hospital bed. Elizabeth motioned to Lizbet’s mom’s hand clasped in John’s. “Is there something you need to tell me, Johnny?”

  John cleared his throat. “I’m afraid it will...make you angry.”

  Elizabeth balled her hands and planted them on her hips. “I think I’m already angry!”

  Declan took Lizbet’s hand and pulled her out of the room and out of the combat zone. “I don’t think this is going to go well for my dad,” he whispered.

  “You can hardly blame her for being mad.” Lizbet matched his low tone. “All these years he let her believe her daughter was dead.”

  “He thought she was!”

  So he said, Lizbet thought, keeping her opinion to herself and her hand tucked in Declan’s pocket.

  #

  On the drive home, Lizbet knew something was wrong as soon as Elizabeth’s car crested the hill. A dark smudge of smoke mingled with gathering storm clouds and the sharp sent of burning pine permeated the air.

  Elizabeth must have sensed it as well, because she pushed the Suburban faster and took the corners so fast Lizbet clutched her seatbelt with one hand and the car door handle with the other.

  They rounded a turn. Lizbet and Elizabeth both gasped at the sight of orange flames licking the trees behind the farmhouse, spitting ash and embers to the sky, and threatening the lives of the horses kicking their legs in fear and panic in the pasture.

  Billowing black smoke filled the sky and shaded the sun. A hot wind carried the ashes toward the mountains. Crimson streaks leapt upwards and shot through the twilight. Popping embers shot randomly in all directions.

  Elizabeth darted from the car, but Lizbet caught her wrist and held her fast. The hungry fire blew through the woods, and Lizbet shared Elizabeth’s worries about the animals and their homes, but she couldn’t let her grandmother go into the barn. Above them, flaming cherry red ashes and embers flew, bursting in the darkening sky. Some landed on trees and a number fell into the grass. Something exploded in the barn with a boom and the fire surged white hot red. Lizbet fought Elizabeth until her arms ached.

  “Let me go!” Elizabeth demanded.

  Lizbet shook her. “You can’t go in there! We need to call the fire department, if this spreads, you could lose your entire ranch!”

  Elizabeth stopped struggling, nodded mutely, her eyes never leaving the fire destroying her beloved farm. Another crack and the barn’s roof disappeared into the flames. The heat scorched the tears on Lizbet’s cheeks. Smoke filled her eyes, lungs, and chest. Turning away from the oppressive heat, shaking, she realized she wasn’t the same person that she’d been a few weeks ago. Before coming to the mainland, she’d been looking to her mom to define her life and create her path. Now, watching Elizabeth’s passion potentially disappearing into flames, she knew her grandmother would risk her life to save her farm. Lizbeth needed to find a passion of her own.

  Lizbet held both of her grandmother’s arms and met and held her gaze. “You go to Hernandez’s’, warn them, and use their phone if they haven’t already called the fire department.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I’ll find a garden hose.”

  “No, I’ll find the hose. You go to the Hernandez’s. Take the car.” Lizbet pulled Elizabeth against her briefly, before letting her go.

  With trembling fingers Lizbet pulled open the gate separating the orchard from the lawn. Running towards the house, she caught sight of Tennyson hiding beneath a giant fern. He cowered as she ran past. She stooped down to rescue him, but he darted away. She watched his tail disappear through the slats of the broken fence separating the pasture from the driveway.

  She found the hose coiled beneath a rose bush side the house. The untended rose had grown spindly long legs with wicked thorns that scratched Lizbet’s arms and caught hold of her T-shirt and skirt. The spigot burned her hands so badly she couldn’t turn the water on. She found a large rake and tried to beat the faucet into the on position, but her efforts broke the handle. Tears welled in her eyes and stung her cheeks. The fire roared, embers snapped, and horses screamed. She longed to comfort them, but knew they wouldn’t be calm until the fire was out.

  And neither would she or Elizabeth.

  The hose surged with water. Lizbet picked it up and went to confront the fire. Somewhere in the distance, sirens began to wail, letting her know she wasn’t alone.

  #

  Hours later, while Lizbet soaked in a tub and rubbed lavender soap over her ashy skin, she half-listened to Josie’s rantings through the floorboards.

  “What happened?” Josie shrieked.

  Someone, probably Elizabeth, murmured a reply.

  “You can’t continue to live here! It’s not safe!”

  More mumbling.

  The conversation hushed momentarily.

  “You don’t even know her!” Josie yelled.

  “And neither do you!” Elizabeth quipped back.

  Lizbet sat up, knowing they were talking about her. What would she do if Josie won the argument? Lizbet was quite sure that someday she would. Lizbet couldn’t continue to sponge off her grandmother. She needed a plan. And waiting for her mom to wake wasn’t the answer.

  Although she didn’t want to go very far in case her mother did wake up.

  Lizbet rubbed shampoo into her hair, hoping its fragrance could wash away the smoky smell. She tried to help out around the ranch as much as she could, but she knew she didn’t carry her weight. Tomorrow, she decided as she lay back in the water, completely submerging, she would find a job.

  #

  Declan stood outside his mom’s door with his hands shoved in his pockets. He had questions about his grandfather that only she could answer. But the one thought haunting him, the one he couldn’t shake, was one he knew his mom wouldn’t be any help with. It was something he had to figure out on his own.

  “Declan, my boy!” Godwin rounded the corner with Rufus at his side.

  Declan hated being called Godwin’s boy. For one thing, his birthday and legal adulthood were just weeks away, and for another, he didn’t want to belong to Godwin in any way.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Godwin asked. “Have you come to meditate on our porch?”

  “No,” Declan said, trying not to sound annoyed. “Is my mom here?”

  Godwin looked at his watch. “I’m afraid not. She’s hosting an open house at the Vances’ property until five. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Did you know my grandfather checked out of the hospital?”

  Godwin’s eyes sparked with interest. “Your mother will want to know. Thanks for keeping us abreast of the situation.”

  Abreast? Who talks like that? “Uh, sure. So, if I came back at five do you think my mom will be here?”

  Godwin looked at his watch again. “We’re dining with the Greens at seven.”

  Ever since Godwin had married his mom, Declan had felt like he needed an appointment to speak with her. He tried to remember if this had always been the case or if Godwin had monopolized her life, leaving her little time or room for her son.

  “You’re welcome to stay here and wait. You could even move inside if standing on the porch grows stale.”

  And now he felt like a loaf of bread. Better move before he
got stale...or grew mold. Declan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Can you tell her I came by?”

  “Sure thing, sport.”

  Sport? He liked being called sport almost as much as he liked being Godwin’s boy. A shiver crawled down his back as he made his way to the Honda as fast as he could without actually breaking into a jog.

  #

  Finding a job was a lot harder than Lizbet had thought it’d it would be. When a barrel-shaped man in Mirna’s Café explained to her she’d need a social security card before he could hire her, and to get one of those she’d need a birth certificate, she returned to the ranch tired and discouraged.

  When she found Elizabeth sitting at the table with her head buried in her arms, Lizbet knew she wasn’t the only one having a bad day. Elizabeth’s shoulders shook with sobs. Lizbet didn’t know exactly what had happened, but she guessed it somehow involved Josie and the ranch.

  But then again, Elizabeth could be upset about Lizbet’s mother. Maybe while she was gone, Elizabeth had received bad news. Maybe her mom had taken a turn for the worse, although for things to get any worse... Lizbet’s heart clenched. She couldn’t jump to conclusions. She couldn’t think about her mother dying. It had been days since her mother had woken from her coma only to slip back into it.

  “Would you like some tea?” Lizbet asked, gently laying her hand on Elizabeth’s quivering back, trying to stem her own panic.

  Slowly, Elizabeth lifted her head. “I didn’t hear you come in.” Elizabeth used both hands to wipe away her tears. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

  “I’m sorry you’re so sad.” Lizbet filled the teapot with water, pulled the teabags from the cupboard, and set two mugs on the counter, knowing that after Elizabeth shared her news, she, Lizbet, would also likely need some tea.

  “Josie...she’s threatening to have me declared mentally incompetent if I won’t leave the ranch.”

  Relief washed through Lizbet. She was so grateful the news wasn’t about her mom it took a few moments to register the implications of what Elizabeth was saying. She sat at the table beside Elizabeth and tried to process. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that she blames me for the fire. She’s been saying for a long time that I shouldn’t be living here alone.”

  “But you’re not alone. I’m here.”

  A scowl settled over Elizabeth’s forehead. “That argument isn’t going to score any points with Josie. I’m not exactly sure my safety is Josie’s paramount concern.”

  Lizbet put her hand over Elizabeth’s and gave it a squeeze. “I think she loves you very much. She just doesn’t know how to express it.”

  Elizabeth snorted. “I think she loves money more.”

  “That’s not true.” Lizbet thought about the fire. Most of the damage was to an old outbuilding that had been burned down to stubs and beams and the barn. An ember or two had landed on the back corner of the house, scorching that side of the roof.

  “Do you know how the fire started?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “What did the firemen say?”

  “The fire marshal suggested the old cans of paint and turpentine I stored in that building might be responsible.”

  The teapot began to squeal and Lizbet went to retrieve it. “But what would strike a spark? It wasn’t at all warm yesterday. I find it hard to believe the cans would just explode. You didn’t light a match out there, did you?”

  Elizabeth huffed. “Of course not! But there may have been some frayed electrical wiring.”

  “Then I don’t see how this can be your fault.”

  “Well, what you and I see might not be all that relevant. Josie will take me to a judge and have me declared mentally incompetent if I don’t move off the ranch.”

  “But where will you go?”

  “To Josie’s.”

  “I thought...the rodents...”

  Elizabeth sighed. “She checked her security camera’s footage. There hasn’t been any sign of mice or rats since she moved out.” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “And she thinks I’m mentally incompetent!”

  “You’re moving into her condo?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “She’ll get tired of me plenty soon and send me packing. This is where I belong. She just needs to learn that.”

  Lizbet thought that since Elizabeth had lived on the ranch Josie’s entire life that Josie should have learned that lesson a long time ago.

  Elizabeth cocked her head at Lizbet. “Will you stay here and take care of the animals while I’m gone? I’ll come by every afternoon.”

  “Of course.” Where else would she go?

  Josie came to collect Elizabeth and a hastily packed suitcase an hour later. Lizbet carried the suitcase down the steps and to the driveway where Josie stood waiting beside her BMW, jiggling her keys and looking impatient.

  Elizabeth drew Lizbet into a tight hug. “It won’t be so very different. I’ll come out every day while Josie’s at work.”

  “Mother.” Josie breathed out a sigh.

  Elizabeth slowly pulled away from Lizbet. “You have the list I made.”

  “I do.”

  “And remember the chickens—”

  “Like music. Yes, I know.”

  “But not loud songs. No rock ‘n’ roll. It has to be pleasing to them. They’re gentle spirits. Anything too raucous and they won’t be able to lay. And Trotter...”

  “Keep him away from the apple tree.”

  “Yes!” Elizabeth pointed a finger in Lizbet’s face. “Or else you’ll have a hot +holy mess on your boot.”

  “Got it.”

  “I’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning,” Elizabeth promised.

  “Mother, let’s go.” Josie took the suitcase out of Lizbet’s hand, tossed it into the trunk of her car, and opened the passenger door for Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth climbed in, the door slammed shut, and Josie rounded the car for the driver’s side. As if as acting on a last-minute thought, she pocketed the car keys and strode toward the porch. Placing her hands on her hips, she lifted her chin and confronted Lizbet.

  “In two weeks, this property will be sold. I’m giving you fair warning. You need to get your pretty little assets together and find someone else to feed, house, and clothe you. My mother is done providing your free ride.”

  Lizbet folded her arms, trying to protect herself from Josie’s hostility. She knew Josie’s words wouldn’t hurt so badly if they weren’t laden with truth.

  Lizbet still had thousands of dollars from her mother’s safe so she didn’t have to worry. Using the bike she found in the shed, she could easily ride into town for food and other necessities. Elizabeth, true to her word, drove out to the ranch every day. Lizbet made her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Her life wasn’t really so different from before, but the long and lonely nights left her empty.

  It seemed strange to her, because she had spent so many years with just her mom, but as the days drew on, she found herself increasingly restless. She filled her evenings with school work, religiously studying for the exams Matias told her she would need to pass to get into college. She spent the days caring for the animals and the garden, and overseeing the repairs to the barn and house. A team of gardeners had also spiffed up the flowerbeds and lawns and a painting crew had touched up the trim on the house, barn, and fences. On the day the workmen finished their magic and loaded up their tools, Josie arrived.

  “We’re going to have a party,” she announced.

  “A party?” Lizbet wondered who Josie would invite. She seemed an unlikely person to have any friends.

  “I’ve already sent out the invitations. You,” she announced, “are not invited.”

  Lizbet just raised her eyebrow, because this was fine with her. If Josie did have friends, Lizbet was pretty sure she wouldn’t like them. “Do you want me to hide in the barn with the animals?”

  “No, I want to show off the horses. You can hang in your room.”<
br />
  Lizbet thought of all the places Josie could hang, but since she was living on the ranch rent-free, she kept her mouth shut.

  “It’s not only friends she invited,” Tennyson told her later that night when they lay in bed. Lizbet looked up from her textbook while Tennyson rolled onto his back, stretching. “I’m not sure she has any of those. She’s invited investors,” Tennyson continued. “It will be a catered affair with a tent set up on the front lawn. A full bar. An open grill with a choice of salmon, steak, or chicken.” The cat licked his paw.

  “You intend on going, don’t you?” Lizbet’s suspicions mounted while she gazed at the lounging cat.

  “You betcha!” Tennyson’s tail swished.

  Lizbet’s lips twitched, hiding a smile. “You won’t be welcome.”

  “That makes it more fun!”

  Lizbet softly laughed, then hushed as an awful idea occurred to her. An awesome and awful idea.

  “Ah,” Tennyson purred, “I knew you would get there eventually.”

  “We couldn’t,” Lizbet said, her voice escaping in a low breath.

  “Why not? It’s Elizabeth’s ranch. Fancy-Josie-pants has no business selling the love of her mother’s life.”

  “But...” Lizbet laughed again, thinking of the havoc they could cause.

  Tennyson stood and stretched. “Hmm, it’s been too long since I stirred up a pot!”

  “What do you suggest?” Lizbet asked. “Because on the day of the party, I can’t be anywhere near your pot-stirring.”

  Tennyson winked at her. “Don’t you worry. You won’t be. Just leave it up to me.”

  “You do know you’re a cat, right? And I hate to remind you of this, but a lot of creatures don’t like you.”

  “I know that! That’s the way I like it. It does one absolutely no good to get chummy with one’s lunch or snack, let alone dinner. It complicates things.” Tennyson rolled onto his belly, sat up, and licked his paws. After a moment of quiet grooming, he said, “So, while it’s true a good many creatures don’t want to play hopscotch with me, they will listen when I tell them how to save their homes. When an owl announces a fire in the forest, no one stops to quibble about the mouse he ate for supper. You’ll see.”