Zoo (17 page)

“
Please. Please let us
stay. Just for a little while,” I beg her. Victoria is whimpering
somewhere behind me.

She points her gun at me. I notice that her
hands aren’t shaking at all, and this makes me believe that she
will actually shoot me if she has to. She answers my plea,
“No.”

Kale walks toward her and she shifts her
aim. He lifts his empty hands and says, “We need someone to explain
this place to us. We’re new. We promise we’ll be out of your way
very soon. Please. You seem like a nice girl.” He gives her a
playful smile. “And we’re nice people too. My name is Kale and
that’s Emma, Victoria, and James. So, will you help us?”

Is he seriously flirting with her? Well,
whatever works. Hopefully she’ll fall for his cute smile and
smartass charm.

She lowers her weapon as a
sense of recognition passes over her face. Her body language
changes and she surprisingly says, “We have rules about not letting
anyone stay here. The guys will kick my butt. But you’re lucky it’s
me here today and not them, because I make the rules . . . and I
like to break
all
the rules. Especially when it can help people who actually
need help. You never know around here.” I’m shocked by how fast she
gives in. The girl shoves her gun in the waist of her jeans and
adds, “The guys will be back soon, so you’ll need to eat and rest
up, and then get the 2050’s out of here.”

Get the 2050’s out of
here
—what exactly does that
mean?

“
When are they coming
back?” James asks, ignoring the strange phrase.

She looks around at all of us, trying to
decide how much to tell us. I can see in her face and body the
second she decides. My whole being relaxes when she says,
“Tomorrow. So you gads need to leave first thing in the morning.
Got it? And don’t forget who has the gun.”

“
Thank you,” Kale says to
her.

“
Do you have any food?”
Victoria boldly asks. Her fake tears stopped the second the girl
gave us permission to stay.

“
Victoria, hush.” James
scolds her like the child she is.

“
But I’m starving,” she
whines.

James starts to scold her again, but the
girl interrupts, “Yeah, I’ll get you gads some food. There’s a free
bedroom upstairs with a bathroom. Last door on the left.” She
points her finger at me and says, “You look like you could use some
clothes. Take a look in the dresser and pick something out. You all
had better not make me regret this.” Um, did she just make fun of
my super-awesome sack dress? How embarrassing, but I’ll take the
free clothes.

“
What’s your name?” I ask
her.

“
Kansas,” she
says.

“
Kansas? Are you from our
time? We were all born in the 18 and 1900’s.”

“
No, closer to this time.
I had family from Kansas, long ago,” she explains. “It was probably
still a state when you were in your old life, right?”

What?

“
Um. Yeah. Kansas was a
state. It’s not now?”

“
Oh. No. We haven’t had
states in over 150 years.”

What?

I remind myself to focus on the present and
thank this girl for all she is doing for us. I’ll have time for
freaking out about the politics later. Maybe. “Look, Kansas, thank
you so much for letting us stay. We’ll find a way to repay you
somehow. I promise.”

“
Don’t make promises here.
You’ll never be able to keep them. And I don’t want you to repay
me. I was new here once too.” She sets off toward the back of the
living room, presumably heading toward the kitchen to find some
food for her starving refugees.

Ah crap, I think I’m going to cry. I take a
deep breath and suck it all back in. I need to enjoy the next 12
hours of peace, because after it’s over, we’re going to be thrown
right back out there.

IS IT POSSIBLE TO HAVE A HEAVEN IN HELL?

I take the stairs two at a time and almost
run to the last door on the left. I nearly faint when I see the
clean bed with a luxurious, lavender comforter and oversized
pillows, the dresser, and two sitting chairs. The urge to throw
myself on the bed is strong, but I don’t want to soil the beautiful
linens. I stop to smell it on my way to the shower, though. It
smells like laundry detergent and heaven. Oh my goodness, that’s
the best smell ever!

I open the door to the
bathroom and see myself in the mirror over the sink. I look like
hell. My hair is matted and my body is dirty. I turn around and
lift my dress. I discover that my backside is raw from the fall I
took, but there’s nothing too serious. It’s all scrapes. Instead of
cleaning my dress and tiny panties when I shower, I throw them in
the trashcan by the toilet. I’ll never have to wear those horrible
things again.
Yay!
But I take care to roll up the cord that I’ve been wearing as
a belt and hide it under the bed for safekeeping.

The water in the shower is warm and amazing.
There is shampoo, conditioner, and soap. They all smell like
vanilla. I was totally wrong about the bed—this is the best smell
ever. And oh, this is absolutely the best shower I’ve ever taken in
my life! I don’t want to get out, but I know the others will be
anxious to get cleaned up once they finish eating.

I check my back out in the
mirror again, now that my scrapes are clean. It looks much better,
but still stings. Then, I brush my hair out with a comb that I
found in a drawer by the sink. It slides easily through my hair
because of the vanilla scented conditioner. I finish drying off
with a fresh towel and wrap it around my body to cover myself while
I look for the clothing Kansas said I could have. The bedroom is
still empty when I go to dig through the dresser drawers. I open
the top drawer and find boy short panties and sports bras.
Score on the panties!
They fit well enough—a little tight but I’m not complaining.
The next drawer down has a lot of black and gray t-shirts. These
must be Kansas’ things. I have a whole new respect for her now that
I realize she’s giving us her room for the night and me her
clothes.

I choose a gray fitted shirt and a pair of
regular blue jeans. There are only two pairs of regular jeans in
the whole dresser. Everything else is black and super-tight
looking. I don’t take any socks because I don’t have shoes. It
doesn’t make sense to me to run around in muddy socks. So I’ll just
have to keep working on building up some tough soles of my own.

What I would give for a pedicure…

Back downstairs; everyone is in the kitchen
eating when I make my way in there to join them. The walls are
painted a bright citrus yellow, and the cabinets are white with
granite countertops. I can almost imagine that I’m back home for a
second, hanging out with my friends. Kale hands me a plate with
half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and half a banana. “Here,
saved this for you. You look nice, and you smell great!” he says
with a smile.

“
Thanks,” I say timidly as
I glance over to James who hasn’t noticed me at all. I turn back to
Kale as ask, “Is this PB&J?”

“
Yeah. Great, right?” Kale
says.

“
Yes.”

“
It’s sticking to the roof
of my mouth,” Victoria mumbles from across the kitchen island as
she jams her finger into her mouth.

James is sitting quietly, on his own, at the
breakfast table. He looks like he has a million things on his mind.
He’s already eaten his food and is now picking up the remaining
crumbs and eating them.

I sit down next to him at the round table
with my food. “Something wrong?” I ask him. We’ve always shared
these sorts of things before.

“
This is strange for me. I
don’t belong in a place like this,” he answers
languidly.

I reach out and take his hand. “I know, but
this is the best option we have right now.” I attempt to be more
like Kale—an extraordinarily caring person—and comfort James. His
loving ways are rubbing off on me—not that I was a bad person
before, but he’s so kind-natured that he makes me want to be
better.

“
I know,” is all James
says in response.

THE LOW
DOWN

I look over to Kansas and the others sitting
about the island. “So Kansas, can you give us the lowdown on this
place? We’ve only been here a day.” Maybe we can find somewhere
James will be more comfortable, if it’s even possible.

Kansas sets her glass down on the smooth
countertop. She pushes it around in circles with the tips of her
fingers as she decides where to begin. She finally settles on her
beginning. “I was placed here straight from being taken. The others
have all been transferred here.”

“
Is everyone transferred
for not mating?” I interrupt to ask her the question.

“
Some. Most are here for
other reasons though, like not being entertaining enough for the
public, not getting along with their enclosure companions, or
because the Keepers saw something truly evil in them and thought
they’d put on a good show here. Stuff like that. They transfer all
the time.”

Kale asks her about our new enclosure and
puts words to the concerns I’ve had in my own mind. “What exactly
is this place? We know it’s different than where we came from, but
what’s their goal with this super-sized zoo? We got a stupid
welcome video when we first arrived at the first enclosure, but
they didn’t tell us anything about this one.”

Kansas takes a moment to gather her thoughts
and then gives us a brief history lesson. “The world has changed a
lot since your times.” She looks at each one of us. “There were
lots of problems with the economy, healthcare, and international
relationships. Countries were dissolving. Civil wars were being
fought. The whole world was in a state of panic. Things finally
came to a head in the year 2050. World War III was about to happen,
and to stop it, the leaders of all the remaining countries decided
to form the Global Government. Fifteen elected officials were
appointed to make the decisions for the entire world . . .
Everything changed from that point on. They made new laws.
Everything was government sanctioned. The world complied, rather
easily, to the change. This allowed the government to focus on
other things—science to be more specific. There was a boom in
scientific breakthroughs. They used taxes to fund research on
finding cures for deadly diseases, perfecting genetic manipulation,
learning how to grow bodies for organ harvesting, discovering the
secrets of time-travel, and so on. They succeeded with each new
task, but some things were immediately outlawed, like
time-travel.”

I can tell Kansas doesn’t approve of the way
things are in this world. Her whole body has an air of sadness.
She’s slumped over the countertop with her hands wrapped around the
drinking glass. But she continues on, “A utopian society began to
form. Peace prevailed. But with this change, something had to be
sacrificed—the individual. Everyone began living in a sterile world
where everything was provided by the government. Everything you had
was the same as the next person’s. Cultures and languages
disappeared. The people began to realize they were losing all the
things different cultures could offer, like art, music, language,
and just a sense of life. Before the people revolted, the Global
Government decided to allow culture and self-expression in the
people’s lives through regulated displays. I won’t get into the
details of that right now . . . Anyway, eventually, this became
part of the curriculum in schools—to find the culture and time you
want to live by. And, by the time we turn 18 we are expected to
choose one.”

Kansas takes a quick breather and continues
on with the zoos now. “The People’s Past Anthropological Centers
were built to mimic zoos for animals. The Global Government thought
it was genius to use our time-travel abilities to gather live
subjects. We could use them to help us with our problem of the
disappearing cultures. Lab rats . . . They pitched this idea to the
world like it was the best idea ever. They said the people that
were brought here were more than willing, since they otherwise
would have been dead. Centers sprung up all over the globe. You
gads were at one of those Centers before you came here. They are
controlled and safe for the public. I bet you saw lots of children,
right?”

“
Yes,” the four of us all
say.

“
Like I said, it’s part of
schooling now. But some idiot scientist had the brilliant idea of
creating a super-dome and mixing all the cultures together. He
wanted to see how we would evolve, if we would create governments,
war, or become a utopian society like they believe they have now.
It became somewhat of a sick sport to watch. There are four domes
like this one,” she quickly adds, “that I know of.”

“
If all that’s true, then
what was up with our enclosure?” I look over to Kale and then ask
Kansas, “Kale and I were in an enclosure that was nothing like
where we can from. Why? And there were even two other people in
there that were from other times.”

Kansas shrugs. “I suppose you could think of
the other enclosures as control groups and your enclosure as an
experimental group,” she says. “They have several experimental
groups throughout each zoo. They want to see if your cultures will
remain, fade, or merge. It’s kind of like what they are doing here,
but without the violence.”

“
Oh,” I say. We definitely
got the short end of that stick.