Page 3 of Tiger's Curse
“A tiger, huh? Sounds interesting! Are there elephants, too? Because I have to draw the line at scooping up elephant droppings.” I giggled quietly at my own joke, but the woman didn’t so much as crack a smile. Since I had no other options, I told her that I would do it. She gave me a card with an address and she instructed me to be there the next day by 6:00 a.m.
I wrinkled my nose. “They need me at six in the morning?”
The worker just gave me a look and shouted “Next!” at the line shuffling behind me.
What had I gotten myself into?I thought as I climbed into Sarah’s borrowed hybrid and headed home. I sighed.It could be worse. I could be flipping burgers tomorrow. Circuses are fun. I just hope there are no elephants.
Living with Sarah and Mike was okay for the most part. They gave me a lot more freedom than most other kids’ parents, and I think we have a healthy respect for each other—well, as least as much as adults can respect a seventeen-year-old anyway. I helped babysit their kids and never got into trouble. It wasn’t the same as being with my parents, but we were still a family of sorts.
I parked the car carefully in the garage and headed into the house to find Sarah attacking a mixing bowl with a wooden spoon. I dropped my bag on a chair and went to get a glass of water.
“Making vegan cookies again, I see. What’s the special occasion?” I asked.
Sarah jammed the wooden spoon into the dense dough several times as if the spoon were an icepick. “It’s Sammy’s turn to bring treats for his playdate.”
I stifled a snigger by coughing.
She narrowed her eyes at me shrewdly. “Kelsey Hayes, just because your mother was the best cookie baker in world doesn’t mean I can’t make a decent treat.”
“It’s not your skills I doubt, it’s your ingredients,” I said, picking up a jar. “Substitute nut butter, flax, protein powder, and agave. I’m surprised you don’t put recycled paper in those things. Where’s the chocolate?”
“I use carob sometimes.”
“Carobis not chocolate. It tastes like brown chalk. If you’re going to make cookies, you should make—”
“I know. I know. Pumpkin chocolate chip or double chocolate peanut butters. They’re really bad for you, Kelsey,” she said with a sigh.
“But they tastesogood.”
I watched Sarah lick a finger and continued. “By the way, I got a job. I’m going to be cleaning up and feeding animals at a circus. It’s at the fairgrounds.”
“Good for you! That sounds like it will be a great experience,” Sarah perked up. “What kind of animals?”
“Uh, dogs mostly. And I think there’s a tiger. But I probably won’t have to do anything dangerous. I’m sure they have professional tiger people for that stuff. But I do have to start really early and will be sleeping there for the next two weeks.”
“Hmmm,” Sarah paused contemplatively. “Well we’re just a phone call away if you need us. Would you mind taking the brussels sprouts casserole a la ‘recycled newspaper’ out of the oven?”
I set the stinky casserole in the center of the table while she popped her cookie sheets in the oven and called the kids to dinner. Mike came in, set down his briefcase, and kissed his wife on the cheek.
“What’s that . . . smell?” he asked suspiciously.
“Brussels sprouts casserole,” I answered.
“And I made cookies for Sammy’s playgroup,” Sarah announced proudly. “I’ll save the best one for you.”
Mike shot me a knowing look that Sarah caught. She snapped her dishtowel at his thigh.
“If that’s the attitude you and Kelsey are bringing to the table then the two of you get cleanup duty tonight.”
“Aw, honey. Don’t be mad.” He kissed Sarah again and wrapped his arms around her, trying his best to get out of the task.
I took that as my cue to exit. As I snuck out of the kitchen, I heard Sarah giggle.
Someday, I’d like a guy to try and talk himself out of cleanup duty with me in the same way, I thought and smiled.
Apparently, Mike negotiated well because he got put-the-kids-to-bed duty instead of cleanup, while I was left to do dishes on my own. I didn’t mind really but as soon as I was done, I decided it was my bedtime too. Six o’clock in the morning was going to come awfully early.
Quietly, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom. It was small and cozy, with just a simple bed, a mirrored dresser, a desk for my computer and homework, a closet, my clothes, my books, a basket of different colored hair ribbons, and my grandmother’s quilt.
