Page 20 of A Malicious Menagerie
“Of course, Ms. Carmichael. How can I help you?”
And here goes the nervous babbling. “Nathan, I want to thank you for the opportunity to work at the menagerie. It has been truly, honestly life-changing. But I think I have to put in my two weeks’ notice. It’s just, the job is more dangerous than I anticipated, and I have some concerns about the keeping of some of the residents like the kelpies and the centaur and—”
“Anna,” Nathan says firmly, cutting me off.
“Yes?”
“You can’t leave.”
I’m taken aback by his words. He sounds almost… grim. “What do you mean? I’m giving two weeks’ notice. Contractually, that’s all I need to do to quit.”
There’s a long pause. “I’d just hate to lose someone with your passion and skills,” he says at last, his voice carefully modulated once again. “After all, what if we need a purrito wrapped?”
My jaw drops. “Nathan, was that a joke?”
He ignores that. “I am in a position to negotiate with you. How much would it take for you to stay?”
The question shocks me even more than his previous statement that I can’t quit. I wasn’t prepared for the conversation to go this direction. Still, this can be how I get out. Ask for an obscene pay raise that even rich Mathis would balk at. So, I do.
“Done,” Nathan replies calmly, and I swear I nearly faint. What is happening?! “Your new rate will be reflected in the next pay period.”
“Would Mathis approve of you giving me a raise?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Mr. Mathis has given me the authority to make decisions related to the menagerie employees.” Which, I note, is a non-answer. “Now, can I helpyou with anything else, Ms. Carmichael?”
“No, you’ve helped plenty already,” I mutter, still reeling.
“Very well, then. Have a good day.”
After I hang up, I spend long minutes staring at the wall. Well, that didn’t go as planned. Not only am I still employed by Mars Mathis’s Mystical Menagerie, but now I make enough money that I would be foolish to ever leave.
A bittersweet thought.
11
The Friend
After what felt like a deal with the devil, the next night is surprisingly drama-free. What I learn is that most of the creatures in the menagerie don’t interact with us unless they absolutely have to, my social wolf and Fionn the chatty kelpie notwithstanding. John takes me through the “mountain” region of the warehouse. It doesn’t involve climbing an honest-to-God mountain, but it is comprised of some small inclines with an abundance of rugged granite rock. To my shock and delight, there is a paired sasquatch/yeti exhibit. In a rare moment of joviality, John informs me that the exhibits have been combined to allow comparison between the two similar but geographically distinct species. That being said, we don’t see either creature as we place fruit (fresh this time) into the sasquatch’s enclosure and release fish in a half-frozen pond for the yeti.
For the wendigo, though, we run a live hog into the enclosure through a chute. “We don’t mess with the wendigo,” John tells me gruffly as the boar grunts and squeals its way into a snowy enclosure that’s tight with evergreen trees and craggy boulders. “We never go into the enclosure. Honestly, there isn’t enough money in the world for me to go in there, and that’s saying something.”
When I get home that morning and sit down to a breakfast of frozen waffles, I pull out my antique laptop and wait about a decade for it to pull up results for ‘wendigo.’ By the time the words ‘cannibal,’ ‘gluttony,’ and ‘humanflesh’ have assaulted my retinas, my Eggos and sickly sweet pancake syrup threaten to make a reappearance.
It takes us bypassing the vampire enclosure for a second night in a row for me to realize that we haven’t been feeding her. As much as I’m relieved not to have to go near the feral woman again, I can’t help but worry that she’ll go hungry. After all, she is a living—err, undead?—thing.
When I ask John about it, he gives me an odd expression that I can’t decipher. “She only gets fed every few weeks,” he replies, and despite my ongoing research, I don’t know enough about vampire physiology to question him.
At the end of the third night, John makes a comment about spending his days off at the track betting on the ponies, and I realize that the following night I’ll be on my own for the first time. Even though John hasn’t proven to be a very good resource or even pleasant company, I still spend the whole day fretting about the idea of being alone. By the time I’m driving in for my shift, my eyes are dry and gritty from lack of sleep, and my nerves are completely shot.
Maybe that’s why, instead of following the systematic order that John has used the past two nights, I head straight for the wolf’s enclosure once I arrive. He didn’t come again last night when John and I let ourselves in to feed him, and I missed him more than I would have thought I should. My hope is that, with John’s black cloud of gloom missing, maybe he’ll come out again.
I hit the switch to slide the divider closed before taking my time selecting the choicest cuts of meat from the freezer. I even add an extra rack of ribs, which satisfies something petty in me that knows John wouldn’t approve. It takes me two trips to carry everything to the concrete slab, and I keep my eyes glued to the forest beyond the divider for any sign of the wolf. After I put down my second load of steak, I hover, holding my breath in anticipation. When he still doesn’t appear, I gently call out, “Wolf?”
What, do I think he’s going to come when I call like a trained hound? Annoyed with myself, I turn to leave, but a lowruffmakes me spin back with a gasp. There, sitting a few yards away on the other side of the chain link, is the dire wolf.
“Hi!” I blurt, too excited to play it cool. Besides, do I really think he’s going to judge me? “You came!” His tail wags once, but he otherwise doesn’t react. “It’s just me today,” I tell him, raising my arms to gesture to the lack of John nearby. “It’s my first night doing everything alone. I’m a little nervous.”
He tilts his head and chuffs, and I decide to take that as him offering his support. “Thanks. And anyway, seeing you again has already made it a good night.”
