Page 63 of Tiger Queen

He glanced at me like I was an annoying fly, said a few more words, then hung up. “That was rude.”

“Your older brother is in there tearing his hair out trying to fix this place. And you just walk away?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got an idea how to fix it.”

I scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“Sure I do.”

“I’m all ears, Jake.”

“Might not pan out. Need to think about it for a while. I’ll let you know.” He got inside the car and closed the door.

Not sure what else to do, I threw open the passenger door, slid inside, and buckled my seatbelt. Jake stared at me like I was crazy.

“Wherever you’re going, I’m going with you,” I said stubbornly. “I want to see what’s more important than the family business.”

His dark eyes glistened in the dark car, but then he shrugged and started the engine.

We drove down the dark, winding road away from the zoo. I realized I had not left the zoo complex in weeks. Jake flew down the narrow, winding road like a man with a death wish. I gripped my knees and tried to relax. I knew he was driving this way to punish me for tagging along, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing my fear.

“I know you hate it here,” I said.

He stared straight ahead, one hand on the wheel.

“You got stuck working here. Anthony and David took off and left you to deal with your dad all by yourself. That sucks. It really does. But the sooner you help the rest of us move the animals to proper homes, the sooner you can leave too.”

No response. It was like talking to a brick wall.

“Why did you even come back if you didn’t want to help? You could have stayed wherever the hell you were and never worried about the zoo. That would have been easier on everyone. Much better than showing up and doing whatever you want without telling anyone.”

I gave up talking to him. We drove through Blue Lake, and then Jake pulled into a liquor store parking lot. The neon sign was broken and dark, and there was a single halogen light shining over the door. The windows were covered with metal bars.

Jake went inside and returned with a brown paper bag. He handed it to me and I peeked inside.

“Oh, good. A bottle of whiskey. That’s exactly what the tigers need.”

“Ain’t for the tigers,” he replied.

“I can see that. I was being sarcastic!” I knew I was frustrated by a lot of things unrelated to Jake, but his selfishness was the match that lit the gasoline. “It’s really shitty of you to buy liquor and play pool while your brothers try to solve the big problems.”

“They have their ways of fixing problems,” he said simply. “And I’ve got mine.”

“Getting drunk doesn’t solve anything.”

“Sure it does.”

We drove for half an hour down back roads, many of which weren’t paved. Twice I asked Jake where we were going. Both times he told me to mind my own business. I tried to check the map on my phone but we were in a dead zone. I started to grow concerned.

Wherever Jake was going, it wasn’t to a pool hall.

The thick forest cleared and we came to the open land of a tobacco farm. Jake slowed down and turned onto an unpaved gravel driveway. The farmhouse might have been nice when it was built in the early twentieth century, but it was now long past its prime. It needed a lot more than a fresh coat of paint. Jake parked out front behind a shiny Ford F150.

He grabbed the bottle of liquor from between my legs. “You can stay in the car or come inside. Doesn’t matter to me.”

Too afraid to stay by myself, I followed him onto the creaking front porch. He rang the doorbell, and then the door swung open. The man standing in the doorway might have been good-looking… except he wore a stained wifebeater and his dark hair ran down the back of his head in a stereotypical mullet. When he saw Jake he grinned, revealing a mouth that was missing three or four teeth.

“As I live and breathe! Jumpin’ Jake himself!”

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