Zero at the Bone (21 page)

Finally Iris said, “But since you feel the way you do about herps, I wonder why you weren’t assigned to one of the other vacant jobs.”

Katherine stopped scrubbing. “What other jobs?”

“Oh, Yolanda over in birds says they need someone there. And I hear they need someone for the hoof stock.”

“Do they? How long have they had openings, I wonder?”

“Coupla weeks, at least.”

“Hmmm,” said Katherine, picturing Sam McElroy looking over the folder on his desk and telling her the only opening was in reptiles. She remembered the surprise on his face when she jumped at the job. She wondered why he didn’t want her around.

“Of course, they’re gonna need someone in cats, too, now, to replace your dad,” Iris said. “Not that he’s replaceable really,” she added quickly. “But they’ll need to hire or promote someone to the head job over there. Danny’s really conscientious. And he’s got the desire. He begged your father to take him on, but he just don’t have the experience yet to be permanent head.” She shook her head sadly. “He was so good with them big cats, your dad, and he loved them. He was as good in his way as Mr. Stokes is in his.”

Katherine digested that for a while. They had been working in opposite directions around the small room and now they met and finished off the last section of wall, Katherine doing the top part, Iris scrubbing down low.

“Now the floor and we’re finished,” Iris said. “Let’s start in the back corners.” She dropped to her knees and began scrubbing the rough cement floor with one of the two brushes she’d brought in. Katherine marveled at what an efficient work machine Iris was. By the time Katherine had the other brush in hand and was on her knees, Iris had already completed a large part of the corner and was rinsing it with the sponge.

“I never knew my father,” Katherine said. “Tell me about him.”

“I didn’t know him that good, but I admired him. He was real kind to me when I was a kid working part-time for Mr. Stokes while I was still in high school. I guess that’s why I still call him Mr. Stokes and always called your dad Mr. Renfro, ’cause I started doing it so young and never could switch when I got older.”

“What did you admire about my father?” Katherine asked.

“Oh, I guess it was mostly how strong in his opinions he was. When he thought something was right for the animals he wouldn’t let nothing sway him. And he had a real temper. Like I remember Vic was going to put down this old lion, Simbaru. He suggested it as humane, you know, ’cause Simbaru was blind in one eye, had this painful growth on his rear and had lost all his teeth and everything and was stinking up the lion wing. But your dad was against doing it—he thought the lion had some good years left. He really went all out to try to save that lion. I guess what I really admired was his sticking up for his animals like that.”

“What happened with the lion?” Katherine asked.

“Oh, in the end, they didn’t put him down, but they did get rid of him, so I guess Vic won out. After that your dad was so mad he tried to stop Vic from getting the head-vet job, but he did anyway. I always like when someone, oh … you know, stands up to everyone and don’t back down.

“That and him being so nice to me when I was young. You remember those things. It makes me want to help you when I see how hard it’s been for you.”

It brought a catch to Katherine’s throat—the idea of kindness coming full circle, but if she were to respond, it would bring on tears again, so she returned to the subject. “His strong-mindedness seems to have got him some enemies, though.”

Iris, on her hands and knees, glanced over, then shook her head vigorously. “Oh, sure, but these aren’t the kind of things people get killed over, if you’re thinking that. Not Anglos, anyway,” she added under her breath.

They bumped feet when she reached the open door. Iris first, they crawled backward, scrubbing their way out. They stood up to survey their work.

“Looks pretty good,” Katherine said, gazing down at her shriveling hands and vowing to buy some good rubber gloves before the next time. “How often does this need to be done?”

“This thorough, each time a new pair goes in,” Iris said.

“Will it meet Alonzo Stokes’s standards, do you think?”

Iris studied it. Then she sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. “Too much Lysol smell. We’ll leave the door open to air it, and if there’s still some smell tomorrow, we’ll put a fan in.” She smiled at Katherine, showing her dimples again. “Then it might pass inspection.”

Iris looked at her big Timex. “Quitting time. Tuesdays Wayne and Harold and Irv and me go out for a beer after work. Wanna come?”

“Oh, I’d love to,” said Katherine, pleased to be asked, “but I promised myself that today was the day I would go to visit my grandmother, whether she wants to see me or not. If I put it off, it might be another thirty years before I get up the nerve again.”

Iris laughed, picking up her bucket and starting for the service area. “I know what you mean. Well, maybe next week. You’ll like getting to know the guys better. We really got a great group here.”

“Yeah, seems to be. Why isn’t there a head keeper here?” Katherine asked, throwing her sponge and brush into the other bucket and picking it up. “The other departments all seem to have one.”

“Yeah, they do,” Iris answered, walking ahead, “but not here. Mr. Stokes is curator
and
head keeper. He needs to keep a hand in everything. I guess he can’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

When Iris got to the sink, she hoisted her bucket and dumped out the dirty water. “I’ve been here longer—nine years, and sometimes I’ve, you know, hoped he’d settle on me, but…” She shrugged her shoulders in resignation. “Anyway, good luck with your grandma,” she said. “Maybe she’ll like you and leave you her millions and you’ll end up the boss of us all.”

Katherine laughed and dumped her bucket into the sink. “And maybe Alonzo Stokes will decide we did such a good job scrubbing that he’ll retire and make you head keeper.”

Iris flushed under her dark skin and then smiled, showing the dimples again.

14

KATHERINE took one more look in the mirror hanging on the back of her locker door. There really wasn’t anything more she could do—she’d brushed her straight chestnut hair so it looked shiny and neat. She’d washed her face and added a touch of color to her cheeks and lips. But she kept staring at her face. What would her grandmother think of this face when she saw it for the first time in thirty-one years? Would she see there some trace of the five-year-old child she had known? Would she see in the gray eyes and straight nose some small reminder of Leanne, her only daughter? Or would she see a thirty-six-year-old woman who looked in no way familiar, an utter alien?

Although she had brought some other clothes with her, Katherine decided not to change out of her zoo uniform. She liked the dark-green cotton shirt with the zoo logo on the left sleeve and the patch over the right breast saying, “Katherine, Reptile Keeper.” And she liked the comfortable green pants with the big pockets. She thought it might be helpful somehow for her grandmother to see her wearing the uniform, to see that she was involved in the family endeavor.

She slung her big canvas tote over her shoulder, shut her locker, and walked out the back door of the reptile house into the cool air of late afternoon. Her heart was beating quick and light as she headed toward the parking lot. She had endlessly imagined what this day would be like, had envisioned scenarios of everything from being ejected bodily from the house to being enfolded in loving arms. But it didn’t matter, she told herself. She was going to drive to her grandmother’s house, and this time, instead of slumping down in the car to watch the house, she was going to walk up to the door, ring the bell, and identify herself. Stiffen the sinews; summon up the blood.

Driving up MoPac toward the Windsor exit, Katherine admired the subtle change of color in the leaves. It must have happened since she’d been in Austin, because she hadn’t noticed it on the drive from Boerne two weeks ago, and she had been so preoccupied since then that she hadn’t even looked. The sumac, brilliant red at the side of the road, leapt out from its background of rust and yellow.

The pasture behind her house would be softened by fallen leaves now and the grass would be turning brown. If she were at home, by now she would have chopped and stacked enough mesquite at the back door to fuel a winter of fires in her big stone fireplace. Thinking about that familiar landscape caused an actual pain at the center of her body, somewhere under the heart. Seven more days and it would belong to someone else. And Ra, too. It was still intolerable to think it, but she saw no way out.

Turning onto Woodlawn, she slowed down to give herself time for a few deep breaths. Then, out of old habit, she pulled into her accustomed place across the street from the stone mansion, and parked. No, she told herself, not this time, not anymore. She restarted the engine and turned into the circular driveway, stopping directly in front of the door.

Before getting out, she lifted her face to the rearview mirror and smoothed her hair behind her ears. Then she slid out and slammed the door. It was too late to turn back now. She felt dramatic and silly at the same time, like a character from Dickens—the orphan being reunited with the matriarch. Even this stone mansion was Dickensian.

She walked the stone path to the massive carved oak door, lacquered to a high sheen. She pushed the bell and listened to its chimes echo through the house. But there were no answering footsteps, no sounds at all in the house. She rang again, leaning into it for a long, insistent ring. Again she heard the chimes filling the house. This time, after a few seconds, she caught the distant thud of soft-soled shoes descending stairs. The sound got louder, but slowly, as if the person were crossing a vast space.

Katherine crossed her arms over her chest, fortifying herself. A woman’s voice, harried and annoyed, called through the door, “What is it?”

“It’s Katherine Driscoll. I’m here to see Anne Driscoll.”

That was met with silence. Then came the sound of a chain rattling and a lock being turned. The door opened and a small woman in a nurse’s uniform stepped outside. Katherine caught only a glimpse of glowing dark wood floors and a curving staircase inside before the woman eased the door shut behind her, holding on to the knob so it didn’t click shut.

Katherine looked down at her. She was a woman of around fifty, compact and neat with dyed black hair bent into a tight page boy. Her tiny bow of a mouth was outlined with vivid red lipstick. “Now,” she said with a minuscule spreading of the lips, “what was it you wanted?”

“I’m Katherine Driscoll. I’d like to see my grandmother. Who are you?”

The woman nodded her head once, as if she recognized the name. “How do you do, Miss Driscoll. I’m Janice Beechum, Mrs. Driscoll’s nurse. I’m afraid it’s impossible for you to see her now. She’s not up to receiving visitors. Sorry.”

“Well, when could I see her?” Katherine asked.

“I wouldn’t know that, miss. I’d have to ask my employer.”

“You mean Mrs. Driscoll?”

“Well, no. I suppose she is technically my employer. No, I mean the person who hired me and really is responsible for Mrs. Driscoll’s welfare—Mr. Cooper Driscoll.”

Katherine stuck both hands in her pockets. She had a sudden urge to push the smaller woman down, race into the house, slam the door behind her and find her grandmother. She took a breath to remind herself of her adult status. Maybe she had come at a bad time. “Well, okay. Will you call Mr. Driscoll now and ask him when I might come back?”

“Yes. I’ll ask him,” Janice Beechum said through closed lips.

“Good. Shall I wait here or may I come in?”

“Oh, I don’t advise you waiting. It may take some time to reach a busy man like Mr. Driscoll. Why don’t you telephone in a few days?”

“A few days! I just want to drop in and pay my respects to my grandmother.”

“I’m sorry you’re upset, Miss Driscoll, but my job is to do what is best for the patient.” She lowered her voice to a professional intonation. “She’s a very sick woman. We don’t want anything to upset her unnecessarily, do we?”

“No, we don’t want to upset her, but we do want to see her.”

Janice Beechum turned toward the door. “Well, I’ll see what I can do, Miss Driscoll. I need to get back to the patient.” She opened the door just wide enough to slip back inside.

Katherine did something she wouldn’t have believed herself capable of: Before the nurse could shut the door, she put her foot in the opening to block it. “If you could just give me a time when it would be convenient for me to come back,” she said.

Janice Beechum looked out through the narrow opening with widened eyes, as if she were frightened that Katherine was going to barge in. “Please don’t make this difficult, Miss Driscoll. I’m just doing my job. You need to talk to Mr. Driscoll.” She looked down at Katherine’s foot on the threshold as if it were a dead rat.

Slowly Katherine withdrew the foot.

The nurse shut the door, locked and chained it without another word.

Katherine felt her face flush with the sudden shame of rejection. As if she were a poor relation not worthy of entering the house, she had been turned away again. Again? she asked herself. Why do I feel I’ve been turned away from here before when I haven’t? And why should I feel ashamed? When she and her mother left Austin it had been like this, as if they had done something so terrible that they were banished forever. They pretended it was because they chose to live apart, but really they had been banished and, in spite of all Leanne’s protestations, Katherine had always sensed that.

Katherine stood there on the step, breathing hard, staring at the wood door and the polished brass knocker with “A. C. Driscoll” engraved on it. Anne Cooper Driscoll—the name was everywhere—on the foundation, on the reptile house, on this door, on plaques all over the zoo, but the person was hard to locate.

Katherine walked back to the car slowly, hoping a window would open upstairs and a voice, old and cracked, would call her back. But she reached the car in utter silence.