Part 15 (1/2)
His big hands with square-tipped fingers rested on the edge of the table. One of the nails was split. His steel-rimmed gla.s.ses were smudgy. ”I gotta give these knees a break. Good time to stop. I've given thirty days notice.”
I didn't know what to say. I said, ”You can't do this to me!”
He grinned. ”You bet I can. You can handle it just fine. You'll do better with Neal than I ever did. Maybe get that new aviary built.”
”Have you told anyone?”
”Just you and Neal. No need to make a fuss over it.”
I shook my head. ”I hate change. I can't imagine Birds without you.” I got up. ”Will they downgrade the position or replace you with another senior keeper?”
”Neal said senior keeper.”
It took me a minute to climb out of the implications for my own life. ”If you go for the knee replacement, you'll need some help. I can drop by after work every day. I'll make you my famous meatloaf.”
”I would appreciate a meatloaf, but my daughter will look after me fine.”
I'd met Janet nee Lorenz and wouldn't trust her to look after a duck decoy. ”Calvin, I'd like to help. Keep me in the loop.”
”Sure thing. You go off to lunch now or you'll be late getting back.”
Which meant he didn't want to talk about it anymore.
On the walk to the Administration building, two thoughts solidified. ”Don't tell anyone. Calvin wants it kept quiet,” and ”This is it. Time to go for a senior keeper position.” I'd had that opportunity when I was pregnant with Robby and chose not to apply. Arnie had gotten the position-senior keeper for Felines and Bears. Everyone who worked with him had been astonished. Neal, who had just started at Finley, had spent months regaining the keepers' respect. After Arnie came to his senses and stepped back down to regular keeper, Linda got the job.
Here came another rare opportunity, and I'd thought I was ready. Aside from realizing how much I'd miss Calvin, I should have been celebrating, not twitching with second thoughts and self-doubt.
Denny was quiet and preoccupied at lunch. Cheyenne and Marion were b.i.t.c.hing about Neal's rapid-fire changes. The first-annual Halloween pumpkin frenzy three months past was still vivid-smashed pumpkins in the elephant yard, the tiger and lion exhibits, the primate house. The animals and the visitors had loved it and the mess was unreal. He announced new developments at every keeper meeting. He had contracted out for camel rides and a walk-in parakeet display starting in spring. Every exhibit was to be evaluated for its photography opportunities and for viewing from a wheelchair. Keepers were to work with the education staff to improve their animal talks, and oh-by-the-way, he wanted visitors hand-feeding animals, under supervision.
Cheyenne said, ”He told me he's planning sleep-overs for kids, maybe at the elephant barn, which is insane. He's thinking about a beer tasting. He wants a blues concert. It's idea-diarrhea. He can't rest unless he's got this place turned upside down a new way every week.”
I experimented with a senior keeper persona. ”He's pulling more visitors in. That's what pays the bills.”
”As long as it doesn't hurt the animals, what's the harm?” Linda said.
Denny just chewed away at his yogurt and greens.
”Did your dog die?” I asked. ”Income tax audit? High cholesterol?”
”No, he's b.u.mmed because we found the owners of some of those tortoises,” Marion said. ”We wanded them all for chips, and we found one. Dr. Reynolds traced the code. It turns out to be from a Madagascar breeding facility. They raise Malagasy endangered tortoises and turn them loose in protected areas. A dozen were stolen, all chipped in the hind leg.”
”So we won't get to keep it,” I said, thinking of the poor beast flying twice across half the world.
Marion glanced at Denny. ”We think five of them belong to this outfit. No chips, but they have scars on their back legs, so probably they were chipped and the thieves dug them out. They just missed one. Those things are the size of a grain of rice and they migrate around inside the animal. Anyway, this place says the stolen ones match the species, s.e.x, and size of four others we've got.”
”Do you just box them up and s.h.i.+p them back?” Linda asked.
Denny woke up and looked alarmed.
Marion shook her head. ”If only. It'll take months to get the paperwork done.”
”You checked the parrots?” I asked.
”Yeah. Nada.”
I wasn't surprised. ”All of them still alive?”
Marion made a face. ”All of them have mites and parasites. They still haven't calmed down. I feel like a brute every time I go in to clean, all of them cras.h.i.+ng around. Then we had to catch them up to test and treat.”
”Has Neal said anything about s.h.i.+pping them to Mexico soon?”
”Not to me.”
Jackie joined us, bringing the latest news on the hunt for Tipton treasure. Which was that there wasn't any news, just people wandering around in the mud like squirrels who couldn't find the hidden nuts.
”How would you spend thousands of dollars in gold coins,” Linda asked, ”a.s.suming there is a Tipton stash and you found it? I go first. A studio with a really good kiln and potting wheel. All the glazes I want, and time to learn how to use them.”
”Since you'll be rich, you won't need to sell them,” I said, ”so you can give me a set of plates and bowls and cups. Oh, and serving dishes. Blue-green like the two cups you made me.”
”I'd buy a Trakehner mare,” Marion said. ”One that's already started. I'll hire a good trainer, and we'll win dressage and show jumping events all over the country. We'll have our picture in all the horse magazines.”
”What about you?” Linda asked me.
That was easy. ”Pay off the house and set aside some money for Robby.”
”For college,” Marion said.
”Or travel or his own house. Maybe to start a business.” He might not be any better at school than I was. Paying off the house-what a relief that would be. With a senior keeper salary, I could make a little extra payment even without Tipton loot.
Jackie said, ”I want a brand new house. One that n.o.body has lived in before me, with new rugs and new furniture.”
”A house in a new development?” Linda asked. She looked guileless, but I knew this for a set-up.
”Oh, yes. On a cul-de-sac, with new little trees in front and a perfect lawn. Everything fresh.”
Denny could be counted on for a major rant about housing developments, something along the line of, ”That's your dream? To pay someone to trash a forest or some farm land so you can have a new house instead of fixing up an old one? That's what's destroying the world today-people expanding everywhere, paving everything, wrecking ecosystems for ego satisfaction. You're gonna need more than feng shui to get over that karma.”
But he didn't say a word. Linda and I shared a look, puzzled.
Someone needed to pick up the lance Denny used for tilting at windmills, but before I opened my mouth, Jackie said, ”Don't you guys start with me. I was raised on hand-me-downs, and I get to dream any d.a.m.n dream I want.”
”Okay then. Let's talk about Bowling for Rhinos,” Linda proposed. ”I said I'd lead it, but you all have to help, or we'll be humiliated in front of AAZK.”
Bowling for Rhinos used to be exactly that. Chapters of the American a.s.sociation of Zoo Keepers would round up pledges, go bowling, collect the pledges, and donate the money to rhino conservation. The fundraiser had evolved beyond bowling, but had kept the rhino focus. It had raised millions over the years for reserves in their native countries, no small accomplishment for a few hundred modestly-paid animal keepers. Linda had decided Finley Memorial Zoo should wake up and join the effort.
”Do we want to bowl or do something else?” she asked.
Pete proposed charging for a dinner in the Education Department's cla.s.sroom, which we would cook, followed by a behind-the-scenes tour. Cheyenne said to just ask people for money for a good cause and not make extra work for ourselves. Marion suggested selling zoodoo from the manure pile behind the elephant barn, a more organized effort than allowing individuals to load what they wanted by appointment. ”We could even can it as a gift item,” she said.