Read Online Did Not Survive by Ann Littlewood - Free Book Online

late again. I picked up litter, examined the birds, and pondered. The vet thought Wallace was going to die or stay in a coma forever. The police were conducting a serious investigation. Sam wanted me to go back into the barn and work with the elephants. I didn’t like any of it.

Chapter Five
    My hand shook a little as I put the key in the door to the elephant barn, adrenaline detritus from my last way-too-dramatic visit. This morning, however, the morning after Dr. Reynolds’ request, I found Peaceable Kingdom. Damrey rocked gently at her hay rack masticating a big wad of hay. Nakri’s rump was visible through the gap in the door to the back stall. No roaring, no trumpeting, no limp body. The work day had barely begun, the stalls hadn’t been cleaned yet, and the atmosphere declared the barn was full of herbivore—strong, warm, and humid. Science must march on, and so I marched in.
    Ian nodded “hello” as he stretched a fire hose down the keeper alley toward the elephant door to the outside yard. He was careful to keep the hose close along the visitor window. I knew why after more episodes than I cared to remember of cougars chewing on hoses I’d left within reach. “The girls” would love to entertain themselves by snagging the hose with their trunks.
    Through the open keeper door, I spotted Sam standing at a counter in the work room. Like Ian, he wore a green polo shirt with the Finley Memorial Zoo logo. A thick twist of red twine cut from hay bales stuck out of the rear pocket of his brown uniform pants. No shoulder holster, no bulge at an ankle. I relaxed a little.
    I wouldn’t be back in zoo pants for months. It was baggy brown coveralls until the baby came, with the name of someone built thick sewn on the pocket, like “Calvin.” I peeled off my zoo jacket, also brown, and draped it over a chair in the little office area. “Hi. I’ll be your Kayla today,” I told Sam. “Today’s breakfast special is warm piss.” Nothing like smart-mouthing to cover up the jitters.
    Sam handed me a five-foot broomstick with a funky wire loop in one end and two unused paper coffee cups. “Here.” He demonstrated how a cup fit in the loop. “This is the official scientific pee collector. Ian will demonstrate the technicalities of operating it. Thanks for doing this.” He handed me a pair of disposable white gloves and waited for me to leave and get started.
    Sam was sensible and careful and had mentored me kindly when I was new. It was Sam who taught me to be aware of each animal’s agenda and not just my own, Sam who told me not to take Wallace’s growling personally, Sam who first welcomed me to the lunch gatherings. He was an old friend, and nothing bad would happen while he was in charge. I swallowed and walked through the door and toward the front stall.
    Ian was waiting near Damrey’s hay rack. He held out a hand to show me a fistful of raisins mashed together to make a lump. “Stand here. Watch her. Don’t be where she can grab at the stick.” He studied me to make sure I was digesting this. I nodded obediently. He added a final precaution that sounded as though someone once said it to him and he had memorized it: “Most dangerous time is when you know the routine and it’s all working good. People get careless.”
    I nodded several times. No carelessness. Not me.
    â€œDamrey,” he called.
    Damrey wheeled to face us. The bars near the hay rack were too close for her to reach her trunk through, but she tried. A little pointed beard of long hair hung from her lower lip. “Pee,” Ian said quietly. The elephant rocked from side to side, ears flapping gently, as she sniffed in my direction, then the trunk swung toward Ian’s hand with the raisins. She turned away and walked toward the other end of the stall and circled back. Her footsteps were almost silent, only a shushing noise as her feet