The Zoo at the Edge of the World (11 page)

Fourth Day

Break out of the resort today, and immerse yourself in the freedom and beauty of Guiana. Probe the dark depths of the jungle and see what it means to be truly wild.

But in luxury, of course! Catch a ride on the
Saint of the Animals
, the gloriously appointed riverboat that brought you here. After breakfast, meet at the docks and take a journey even farther up the river. Spot crocodiles and swinging tree monkeys in their natural habitat. Sing along with the macaws and throw fish to the manatees.

For the truly adventurous, hop into one of our rowboats and take an excursion up the river with an experienced guide. This is not for the faint of heart!

If that all seems a bit much, relax back at the zoo instead. The buffet will be open all day, each meal accompanied by the civilizing strains of our house band. Take in the gardens and the Butterfly House, and visit all the animals you haven't yet had a chance to see. This is your last full day in the Zoo at the Edge of the World. Make it the best one.

 

20.

T
im pulled me outside and shut the door to the Ruby Palace behind me.

“You look well rested,” he said blankly. “Have a nap in there, did you?”

I scowled at him and handed over the gun. “I ST-sss—ST-staaa—”

“Save it,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Get to bed.”

The door to the Ruby Palace had locked automatically when Tim closed it. I sighed and began to fumble with the key.

“I've got the key.” Tim pushed my hand away.

I stood there waiting for him to unlock the door and go inside. He was a full hour early, and Father had told us I wasn't supposed to leave until Tim had gone in. I gestured for him to go through the door.

“Are you deaf as well?” Tim glared at me. “I said get to bed!”

“AH-ah-AH-ar-ar-aren't . . .”

“Aren't I what?” Tim said. “I don't have to explain myself to you now, do I? God, this place is a joke.” Tim pressed his finger into my ribcage. “Once this place is mine, first thing I'll do is fire you, you little snot!”

I put my hand around his finger and moved it away from my chest. I gestured again for him to go inside. His eyes widened. “Got a problem listening to what I say?” He pushed me, and I almost fell backward. “You don't want to get in my way today.”

I stepped up to him. He was a full foot taller than me, and he leaned down, breathing onto my forehead. I sensed he was about to hit me.

But I didn't care.

“Bah—Bah—Bah—Bah!” I stammered furiously. “Kk-ku-ku-k-KK-KK-KK!” My tongue cracked against the top of my throat. “Ssss-Swuh—Ssss-Swhuh!” My mouth twisted into a terrible shape, and I spewed half words at him.

You've been a terrible brother. You've never been a friend to me. I try to be nice to you, and you spit in my face. Even Father knows what a rage-fueled brat you are!

It didn't matter to me that I couldn't form the words. It didn't matter that I was an incomprehensible mute. I was loud, I was angry, and I made my meaning clear.

I am not a mute.

Tim blinked and pulled back slightly. I'd surprised him, and he didn't know what to do. There was spittle on his face, and he wiped it off with the sleeve of his shirt. He opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. For once, he had nothing to say.

I turned from him and trotted down the steps of the Golden Path. Too much had happened in the last few days for me to care about petty arguments with Tim. I was tired. I wanted to go to bed and dream of something else.

 

The bedsheets were sticky and hot. There was no sleeping during the day in the jungle, and that's why everyone did all they could to avoid night shifts. I ripped the cotton sheets off my straw mattress to try to get cool, but the prickly mattress scratched my skin raw. The sun was on fire and there was no rest for me that morning.

I trudged my way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The guests were in their fancy day clothes, while my hair was matted with bits of straw, and my work shirt stuck to my skin. But I didn't care what I looked like to them.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Father breakfasting awkwardly at a table with the duke and duchess, and I regretted ever leaving bed. I tried to make my way back to the exit, but he spotted me.

“Marlin,” Father called from the table. “Marlin, come join us.” He had a chair pulled out for me next to him.

“Good morning, soldier,” he said loud enough for them both to hear. “Looks like you've had a trying night.”

The duke and duchess didn't take the bait. They had no interest in what I'd done to look so terrible.

“Marlin stood guard all night,” Father said. “Gave you an appetite, eh, boy?” He clapped his hand on my back and summoned the waiter to bring me some potatoes and bacon.

“You work him entirely too hard,” the duke said, trying to be polite.

“Yes.” The duchess arched her eyebrow. “He's a busy boy.”

“He's going to own this zoo one day. Won't you, Marlin?” Father smiled broadly at me. He put a hand on my shoulder as though he expected me to respond. He'd never tried to engage me in conversation in front of guests before.

“That would be something to see,” the duchess said, and clucked her tongue.

Father looked at her blankly. “How do you mean, Your Grace?”

The duke elbowed her, but she wasn't going to stop.

“He'll need to learn a few things about courtesy first.” The duchess chuckled to herself. “For example, how to say hello!”

The duke turned red. I saw a look of contempt on Father's face.

“My boy is more than competent,” Father said quietly. “This is a family business and will be run by my family always.”

“Hear, hear!” The duke raised his glass, trying to cut the tension. “To your family business! May it be ever fruitful.”

“Yes,” the duchess said. “We are so lucky that we only have a girl and don't need to worry about her career. She'll marry the right man someday.” She looked at me directly. “Someone highborn, of course.”

Just then the server delivered our plates. Bacon and potatoes for all.

“But what about your family business right here?” Father leaned over the table.

“Pardon me?” asked the duke.

“Your new venture in Guiana,” he said, taking a bite of bacon. “Buying up land for a sugar forest?”

The duke stiffened, as did the duchess. They turned almost imperceptibly toward each other as though they could consult through telepathy. Father looked up from his plate and gave a broad smile.

“I don't know where you'd hear something like that,” the duke said unconvincingly. “I'm not even sure what that means. A ‘sugar forest' . . . are you familiar with that term, my dear?” The duchess's skin tone began to match her rouge.

“I have a few friends in town. In the land offices.” Father buttered his toast, calm as could be. “Bids like that for jungle acreage don't go unnoticed, Your Grace. I know you're an intelligent man; please don't pretend otherwise.”

The duke wiped the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin and pushed away his plate. The duchess was watching him carefully, but now he ignored her.

“You've done well with this resort, old boy. But it's time for these lands to be developed. If someone can do it profitably and safely . . .”

“It is being used profitably and safely,” retorted Father.

The duke laughed. “I have no doubts of your profits, Captain. But judging from yesterday's events, I'd hardly call this resort safe.”

“That fire was a fluke,” said Father, growing heated. “I spent half my life exploring this jungle, the other half building this zoo. And I'll be cursed if I'm going to watch you burn it to raise sugarcane.”

Father slammed his palm on the table and shook the silverware. For a moment, everyone was quiet, even the duchess.

“So you're the other bidder,” the duke said stiffly. “Buying up the parcels between my parcels so I can't get a connected tract. We shall see what Governor Hincks has to say about you stifling progress in this colony.”

“Yes, and we shall see what he has to say about overreaching nobles bribing my employees to strike and shut me down.”

“What did you say?” the duchess gasped. “What did you just say to him?”

Olivia appeared at the table beside her father and gave everyone a start. “Daddy, what's going on?”

The duke threw a glance to his wife. “Nothing, darling, nothing. I'm sorry. Please sit with us.”

He pulled out a chair, and Olivia sat down cautiously.

“How are you, Marlin? Captain Rackham?” she greeted me and Father.

“Very well, miss,” Father said.

I nodded and gave a slight smile.

“Did you just wake up, my dear?” the duke asked.

“No . . . ,” Olivia answered cautiously. “In fact, Captain Rackham, I'm glad to see you. I wanted to ask what time the jaguar exhibit opens.”

“It opened at eight a.m.,” Father answered. “Just as the others did.”

“Well, that's what I thought,” Olivia said, looking puzzled.

“What do you mean, my angel?” the duchess asked, trying to sound cheery.

“It's eight thirty now,” said Olivia, looking at her pocket watch, “and I was just at the Ruby Palace. But the door was locked.”

Father and I turned to each other slowly, both hesitant to make eye contact and confirm what we already knew.

21.

F
ather fired his pistol when Tim didn't answer the door to the Ruby Palace. The bullet blew the bolt half out of the jamb. He reached into the splintered mass of wood and wrenched it the rest of the way, then kicked the heavy frame. Slivers of split wood and bent metal jammed the door, but another kick swung it open.

Tim lay on the floor of the den. Father rushed into the enclosure, and I followed with Zargo Hunt. Manray Lightfoot was keeping the Bradshires outside—they had insisted on coming with us—and I could hear him saying something in Arawak.

Was Tim crying? I couldn't be sure. He buried his face in his shoulder and clutched an open wound on his forearm. Cloth and flesh mixed in a bloody pulp. I had to look away.

The Jaguar paced his cage, breathing heavily. As he walked, red prints came off his forepaws.

The rifle was lying halfway inside the Jaguar's cage, the barrel pointed toward him. The bayonet had snapped off and lay bloodstained at the Jaguar's feet.

Father was at Tim's side. “What happened?” he shouted. Tim didn't respond but only buried his face farther in his shoulder.

“Help me!” Father commanded, and Zargo went to his side. I hovered over the three of them, unsure of what to do.

“Let me see the wound,” Zargo said.

“Keep off me,” Tim snarled.

“We need to see it,” Father said. Tim unclenched his hand from the wound, and Father probed it with his finger. Tim cried out in pain, but Father didn't stop. I suppose he realized what had happened before I did.

“You'll live,” he said taking off his over shirt and wrapping it round Tim's arm for a tourniquet, “but with the doctor gone, you'll need to go to Georgetown.” Tim groaned as Father yanked the knot tight. “Maybe you'll meet a girl there. Tell her you almost killed a jaguar.”

“. . . Marlin's fault,” Tim moaned. “. . . left the cage open . . . I had to fight him. . . .”

Father glanced at me, and I panicked. The Jaguar asked me to let him out, of course, but I never did. Could I have done it without remembering?

“How could he do that when I've got the only key?” Father said gruffly, and pulled a brass key off his belt. “How is the jaguar back in the cage? Why's the gun in there with him?”

“The . . . the workers . . . ,” Tim said weakly.

Father pulled me to him and put his hand in my shirt pocket. He pulled out the Paw and turned Tim's face toward him with his boot.

“This is what you're after?” he yelled, his eyes burning.

I looked again at the rifle with the twisted bayonet, and it came clear to me. That's why Tim had changed the guard early and wanted me to leave. He'd planned to kill the Jaguar and say I'd left the cage open, forcing him to defend himself—or else that I'd abandoned my post and left the Jaguar to our superstitious employees. Either way, I would be the worthless little brother again. But the plan hadn't worked.

Father and Zargo lifted Tim by his armpits.

“It hurts!” Tim screamed. But they already had him up.

“If you can try to kill my jaguar, then you can walk,” Father said to him.

With Tim in Zargo's arms, Father went to the Jaguar's cage, picked up the damaged rifle, and slammed the butt against the metal door.

The Jaguar leaped back, hissing.

“You're no curse,” Father said. “You're just a bloodthirsty animal.”

They stared at each other across the bars. Father pointed the dented rifle barrel at the Jaguar. I didn't know if it could still fire.

“T-ttt-TT-Tim!” I managed, and broke the standoff.

“We'll take him to the boat,” Father said.

We took off toward the dock, Tim yelping all the way.

 

Father laid Tim in a guest cabin on
Saint of the Animals
and told the captain, an Englishman called Reese Mundy, to sail to Georgetown and deposit Tim at Victoria Hospital in the High Quarter. Charro, our healer, would make the journey with him. Father ordered Mundy to depart as soon as we were off the ship.

“There might be a problem with that,” the sailor replied.

The gangplank, our bridge between the ship and solid ground, was packed with guests. Sailors were struggling to stop them from boarding.

The Duke of Bradshire stood at the front of the mob, arguing with a sailor. “I could have you hanged for this!” the duke was saying. Then he spotted my father. “Captain Rackham! We demand to be heard!”

Father looked nonplussed. “Your Grace, what is this?”

“Your zoo is dangerous, that's what!” the duke bellowed. The assembled guests called out their agreement. It was a throng of about twenty, a fifth of the guests in this week's group. Some had luggage in their arms. “We will not let this ship leave.”

“It's my boy.” Father took in the crowd. “He's hurt. He needs a hospital.”

“That may be true.” The duke turned from Father to the crowd. “But it is my sacred duty to protect my countrymen, and this resort puts English lives in danger.”

The crowd sounded a note of agreement and panic. They were being turned into a mob by the duke. When Father had first said the duke had bribed our employees to strike, I hadn't believed it. But now it seemed clear to me that Olivia's father was trying to destroy our resort, though I still didn't understand why.

“Yesterday's fire was nearly deadly, and now your animals are making attacks,” the duke continued. “I demand that you refund these citizens' fees and allow them to return to Georgetown this afternoon.”

“Refund!” shouted a man in a souvenir safari hat.

“Take us home!” yelled a woman with a parasol.

We had to get Tim to Georgetown or his wounds could become infected.

“Your Grace and guests, please.” Father tried to calm the crowd. “The zoo is safe; this week's accidents were flukes. The ship must leave now. It will be back to pick you up tomorrow evening. There is plenty more to see, and—”

“A refund!”

“Let us go!”

The duke stood at the front of the mob, entirely satisfied. The duchess and Olivia finally squeezed through to stand next to him. Olivia's brow was knitted with worry. She mouthed, “I'm sorry,” to me from across the distance. I tried to summon a reassuring look for her but couldn't. I turned away bitterly.

“All right,” Father relented. “You may have your refunds, and you may leave. But hear me.”

The duke smugly motioned for the crowd to listen.

“This has been a trying week,” Father said. “I understand your frustrations. Two new attractions have not gone as planned. I've never seen anything like it in all the years I . . .”

Father trailed off. His eyes searched for a solution that wasn't there. Refunding the guests would cost a fortune, and loading them all onto the ship would take hours. We didn't have that long.

“But—this is an extraordinary land.” Father slowly raised his finger in the air. “And you have accepted an extraordinary challenge in coming here. Every adversity you have faced you conquered bravely and with dignity. Now let me give you one last challenge.”

Zargo and I exchanged glances behind Father's back.

“My boy is injured, and I am sending him back to the city on this boat. Any guest who can be ready to go within the hour may join him and will be in Georgetown by midnight. Because you would be leaving one day early, I will grant each guest who elects to leave a full refund.”

A sound of agreement issued from the crowd, but Father gestured to quiet them.

“But anyone who elects to stay, completing their full week at the resort, will be returned to Georgetown tomorrow night, just a few hours past their scheduled arrival, to allow the boat time to return to the zoo. And anyone who stays will be invited to a special event.”

With this Father smiled for the first time, and the duke's smile began to fade.

“Tomorrow morning, before breakfast, the jaguar will be executed in the Sky Shrine. All remaining guests are invited to watch this dangerous animal meet his end. That is my offer.”

The
Saint of the Animals
departed ten minutes later. Tim and the crew were the only ones on board.