Tiger in Trouble (15 page)

I turned the flashlight off. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, and then I could see even better than before. Now my sight wasn’t limited to just the beam of light. I could also see into the dimly lit distance.

The gravel crunched under my feet as I walked. I listened for other sounds. I knew this was the most active time for some of the animals in the park. With their keen ears, better vision and sense of smell, they were all observing me in one way or another as I moved along. That was a strange thought. All along the path, on both sides, behind the fencing, were some of the most dangerous and fierce animals in the entire world. Yet we were safe as long as we were on the path. But what about other animals? Things like wolves, coyotes and bears naturally lived in this area. Vladimir had said they put away the donkeys, goats, chickens and ducks every night so nothing could get them. Suddenly I didn’t feel so safe. Maybe I should have brought a big stick instead of a little flashlight. This didn’t seem like such a short trip. I wanted to do two very different things now: I wanted to move faster and more quietly.

“Come on, girls,” I whispered.

We rounded Kushna’s pen, and I looked over and was captured by two sharp points of yellow light — his eyes. I froze, then focused my eyes until I could vaguely see the outline of his body. He was right by the fence, crouched and watching us. I felt a chill rise out of my feet and go all the way up my legs and into my spine. My brain told me he was behind the fence and I was safe. My heart and gut weren’t so sure. I needed to get away. I turned, then was startled by a sound. Voices.

I looked up. Coming along the path was a beam of light — no, two separate beams of light. It couldn’t be Vladimir, at least not by himself. Maybe it was Mr. Armstrong. And here I was with the two fawns. He hadn’t seen them yet, and I was hoping we could keep it that way. Even to somebody who knew nothing about animals it would be pretty obvious there was nothing wrong with either of these two.

Just off to the side was a small wooden structure. It had a roof and half walls, and Vladimir had said it had been used as a snack bar before they put in all the vending machines. I ducked and moved toward it, the deer by my side. When I pushed open the gate, it creaked a bit, causing me to shudder. They were still too far down the path to hear the noise. I figured I’d stay in here with the babies until they passed. Maybe he was headed for the temporary pen to look at the deer. It would be good if he went there and didn’t see them, because we could say they were still too sick to be outside.

The voices got louder, and I poked my head over the wall to watch. It was impossible to see anybody coming up behind the lights, but I did recognize one of the voices as Mr. Armstrong’s. The second, also male, was definitely not Vladimir. What were they doing out here, and who was the person with Mr. Armstrong?

I became aware that each deer had latched on to a different hand, so I had one deer suckling from my left hand, and the other from my right. That was more than okay. This way they’d be quiet for the thirty seconds we’d need for the men to pass by.

The lights came closer and closer. I ducked, held my breath and waited.

“This is the pen,” I heard Mr. Armstrong say.

Great — they were standing just outside my hiding spot!

“We may not see him right away, because it’s a big space and — there he is!” Mr. Armstrong cried. “It’s almost as if he were waiting for us to come!”

“How old is he?” the man asked.

“Almost twelve,” Mr. Armstrong said.

I knew that was a lie. Kushna was closer to twenty.

“And his weight?”

“Over three hundred and fifty kilograms.”

“Excellent. The bigger the better,” the man said.

“We feed him well. A healthy tiger is a happy tiger.”

“I didn’t think you cared much about whether they were happy or not,” the man said.

I was shocked by his statement. Whoever this guy was, he not only knew what Mr. Armstrong was like, but he wasn’t afraid to say it.

“And you’re prepared to part with him? Is that correct?”

“If the price is right,” Mr. Armstrong said.

That explained why he was here looking at the animals. The only interest he had in them was for what they were worth.

“I think we can make it worth your while,” the man said. “I was thinking sixty.”

Sixty dollars! He couldn’t sell him for that little. Vladimir said a grown tiger was worth more like five hundred dollars. Was Mr. Armstrong stupid?

“You’d better think again. I know he’s worth more.”

At least he wasn’t completely stupid.

“I was thinking more like a hundred and twenty-five,” Mr. Armstrong said.

Wrong again. He was stupid.

The man chuckled. “Then perhaps we had better come to some middle ground.”

“I’m listening,” Mr. Armstrong said.

And so was I. I peeked over the wall and was shocked to see they were no more than four metres from me. Directly in front of them sat Kushna. Crouching down, he stared past the two men to where the deer and I were hiding. He couldn’t see us, but he certainly could smell our scent.

“You have obviously read or heard about the prices for a tiger,” the man said.

“I know the going price is much closer to my figure than it is to yours.”

“But you’re asking me to take all the risks. I must transport and distribute the tiger, while you do nothing more than sign a paper and take the money. If something happens, you can just sit back and claim you didn’t know anything. Who knows? You might even turn on me, hanging me out to dry if things go wrong.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Mr. Armstrong protested.

The man snorted. “There is little honour among thieves. You give less, you get less money.”

“How much less?” Mr. Armstrong asked. He didn’t sound very confident.

“The figure is sixty-five.”

“Then we can’t do business!”

“Perhaps we can’t,” the man said. He seemed calm, cool and collected — as if he knew he held all the cards. “Take me back to my car and let’s not waste any more time.”

“Wait!”

“For what?”

“I want to do business, honestly!” Mr. Armstrong said. “I just need a higher figure.”

This was ridiculous! I’d give him a hundred dollars if he’d leave Kushna alone and —

“Ommmppp!” I yelped, stifling the sound caused by one of the deer biting hard on one of my fingers.

“What was that?” the man asked.

“Could have been anything. We’re surrounded by animals.”

“And nobody else is here?”

“The park has been closed for five hours. We’re alone.”

There was a long and painful silence. What were they waiting for?

“Now what were you saying?” the man asked.

“I told you I need more money.”

“If you want a higher figure, you must be prepared to take more risk.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Armstrong asked, and I wondered the same thing.

“You must be there while we transport the tiger.”

“I can do that.”

“And you must be there when the procedure is done,” the man added.

Procedure? What was he talking about?

“I … I guess I could do that.”

“And I want you to put it all in writing.”

“You’re asking me to put my neck in a noose,” Mr. Armstrong complained.

“No, I’m asking you to do something to earn the money I am going to pay you.”

“And how much is that?”

“Eighty-five. Think about how many pairs of shoes that could buy your wife.”

I’d seen her shoes. Eighty-five dollars wouldn’t buy one shoe, let alone a pair.

“I don’t like it,” Mr. Armstrong said.

Good. Maybe he’d come to his senses.

“But I’ll do it,” he continued.

“Excellent!” the man said. “I’ll be here the day after tomorrow. I suggest we make the move at this time of night or later.”

“Fine,” Mr. Armstrong said. “And you’ll have the money with you?”

“Cash. Small bills. Eighty-five thousand dollars.”

Thousand! Eighty-five thousand dollars! There was no way a tiger was worth that much money … unless it was a dead tiger.

I knocked on Vladimir’s door. I wanted to pound on it, yell for him to answer, but I couldn’t. Sound travelled far in the night air, and while I wanted Vladimir to hear me, I didn’t want the Armstrongs or that man to notice me.

“Vladimir!” I called softly, pressing my face against his door. “Come on, Vladimir, open up, please. It’s important.” I was pretty sure I’d be waking him up and getting him out of bed — anybody who was up at four in the morning was definitely in bed long before eleven at night.

I knocked again, this time as loud as I dared. I heard something, somebody, moving inside!

“Leave me alone!” Vladimir’s voice boomed through the door. He sounded angry. The door flew open. “I am sleeping so just leave me alone —”

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes opening wide.

I took a deep breath. He was wearing a long, wide nightgown that looked almost like a dress, and on his head was a long cap. He looked like somebody from an old-time movie, or even a fairy tale.

“Big girl Sarah, it is you!”

“Who were you expecting?”

He snarled. “Expecting to be bothered by boss man or wife. They are always bothering Vladimir. Why are you here?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“It’s not the middle of the night. It’s only eleven-thirty.”

“That is middle of the night for me. Can it wait till morning?”

“No, I need to talk to you right now. It’s important! Mr. Armstrong is going to sell Kushna.”

“Kushna? No, no, you must be wrong. No one wants to buy an old, mangy tiger.”

“Yes, they do — for a lot of money.”

“No, you must be wrong. Kushna is too old to be wanted even for a little money.”

“They’re going to kill him!” I exclaimed.

Vladimir’s mouth dropped open, and the colour drained from his face.

“And Mr. Armstrong is going to be there, and they’re talking about money, a whole lot of money and —”

“Wait, wait!” Vladimir said. “Come, come into house. Sit down, calm down, talk,” he said as he ushered me in.

I came in and sat at the kitchen table.

“Big girl Sarah, you want a drink?”

“I’m okay. Well, sure, I guess … thanks.” After Mr. Armstrong and the man left, I’d rushed to put the deer away in their little pen and then run all the way here without stopping.

“Vladimir needs a drink,” he said, walking over to the fridge and opening it. He grabbed a pitcher of orange juice and two glasses from the cupboard, then filled one glass to the top and handed it to me. The second he only filled halfway.

“Need extra special thing in my drink,” he explained, opening a cupboard above the fridge and pulling out a bottle of vodka. Unscrewing the cap, he poured the clear liquid into his glass until it was as full as mine.

“Vashe Zdorovye!” Vladimir said as he raised his glass and clinked it against mine. Then he raised his glass to his lips and drained it in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I took a sip from my glass.

“Now tell me things,” Vladimir said. “How did you hear? What did you hear?”

“I heard Mr. Armstrong talking to a man.”

“Little man?” Vladimir asked.

“I couldn’t really tell. I think he was smaller than Mr. Armstrong. Do you know who he is?”

“Have an idea. The animal business has bad men. Always trying to get animals. They tried to buy from old boss. We know what he really wanted, so would not sell to him. Did he have beady little eyes and a face like a weasel?”

“It was too dark to see his face, especially from where I was hiding.”

“You were hiding?”

I explained to him where I was when I overheard them talking.

“And you heard them making a deal for the tiger?”

“I heard. They were talking about a lot of money. Eighty-five thousand dollars.”

“That is blood money. Money to slaughter Kushna. You hear when this would happen?”

“The day after tomorrow, late at night. That doesn’t leave us much time.”

“We do not need much time. Only need one minute,” he said as he got up from the table.

“One minute to do what?” I asked anxiously.

“One minute to go up to boss house.”

“Do you think talking to him will help?” I asked.

“No,” Vladimir said, shaking his head. “Talking will not help, but Vladimir is not going to talk.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Going to break arms of boss,” he said as he turned and left the room.

“You can’t do that!” I yelled, jumping up from the table and starting after him.

“Sure can break arm. He not big like Vladimir. Could break arms and legs and neck of boss. Easy.”

“That isn’t what I mean. If you do that, you’ll be arrested!”

Vladimir stopped and turned to face me. He nodded. “You are right, not break arms.”

Thank goodness he realized that —

“Instead of breaking arms, just threaten to break arms!”

“You can’t do that, either!” I protested. “It’s just as illegal to threaten somebody as it is to actually do it. You’ll be arrested just the same if he calls the police.” I paused. “But maybe we should call the police.”

“Police no good. Boss just say he is selling a tiger. It is not wrong to sell a tiger.”

“But it is illegal to kill one, isn’t it?”

“Is against the law. If we can prove it. Can you prove he wants to slaughter him?”

“Well, I heard them talking about it. Maybe the police will believe me.”

“Even if they believed, they probably could not do anything.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” I asked.

“Local police, local laws. Killing a tiger is international law.”

“Isn’t there sort of like an international police department?” I asked. “You know, somebody to enforce international laws.”

Vladimir shrugged and shook his head.

“I know who would know. Mr. McCurdy. He knows everything about tigers. I just wish he was here so I could ask him.”

“Call him,” Vladimir suggested.

“He doesn’t have a phone, but I do know how to get hold of him. I can call my friend Erin. She’ll go out and get him and he can call us here at your place.”