Page 6 of Tiger Queen

I remembered what Ashley had told me about this place. They cut corners, neglecting the animals wherever they could save a few bucks. A place like this should have had a veterinarian on-site permanently, not just a few months out of the year.

I stifled my anger. “Can I, um, get a tour of the place first?”

David cocked his head. “You’ve never been here?” He seemed surprised.

“I’ve never had the pleasure.”

David nodded thoughtfully. “I guess I assumed you knew all about this place already. No, that’s good. You’ll get a fresh perspective rather than having your opinion tainted.”

For a brief moment I allowed myself to feel hopeful. David seemed nice, so maybe the Crazy Carl thing was just a gimmick. Like a mascot. Maybe this place wasn’t as bad as its reputation.

Then he began the tour.

“The layout of the zoo is pretty straightforward. We’ve got forty-one big cats, including eighteen tigers. They’re all on the east side of the park. Here’s one of them, um, a Siberian tiger…”

“That’s a Bengal tiger,” I said. “Siberian tigers have thicker coats.”

“Oh,” David replied. “I guess I assumed it was Siberian since it’s white.”

“There are white Bengal tigers,” I explained. “There are more important differences than the color.”

“Right, right,” he said. “Well, here it is.”

My heart soared again at the sight of the majestic animal. He was at least six-hundred pounds, and was laying down as if he were a normal house cat. The coloring on his face was exquisite, a white base-coat with darker stripes framing a prominent snout and pink nose. His eyes were blue, almost as blue as David’s, and examined me the way a king would examine a peasant who had come to pledge fealty.

It would have been an incredible moment… Except that the cage was far too small for an animal his size. It was hardly larger than the interior of my car. He would barely have enough room to pace if he wanted.

Sadness gripped my heart and squeezed.

“Is that his permanent enclosure?” I asked in an even voice.

“Yeah, I guess so,” David replied. “We’re moving some stuff around, but it seems happy enough. Come on, let me show you around.”

I tried to ignore how he kept calling the tiger it instead of he. As if he were an object rather than an animal. David didn’t seem terribly interested in the condition of the animals or their well-being, either.

I felt the tiger’s serene gaze follow me as we walked down the next path.

That tiger’s cage may have been small, but at least it was sanitary. We came to a larger tiger enclosure with a lake in the middle and a ring of grass around the outside. It was about the size of a school playground, and six orange Bengal tigers were lounging lazily in the sun. There were animal droppings scattered everywhere, and the ground sloped down into the lake in the middle. That appeared to be the only water source for the tigers, one of which was lapping at it presently.

“How often are the enclosures cleaned?” I asked.

“Oh, you know. Whenever the crew gets to them. We’ve been short-handed this past week.”

Once again I suppressed my anger. If this was how bad they kept things in the public-facing section of the zoo, the parts customers couldn’t see must have been really bad.

We spent twenty minutes touring the zoo. Most of the large enclosures were built from cheap chain-link fencing and were overrun with weeds and tall grass. Three black panthers in one enclosure looked like they had gotten into a fight recently—one of them had a cut above its eye, bright red against the black coat. The wound was minor, but the fact that it had not received medical attention was another red flag. The reputation of this place was proving to be true.

David showed me the chimpanzee exhibit, then the large aviary—which he called the bird cage. There were also a pair of wolves in a long enclosure, which were both huddled in the back corner in fear. The fingers gripping my heart squeezed tighter. Soon it was hard to breathe. I considered taking my phone out to take photographs, but David kept looking back at me.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Just getting a feel for the place.”

“It’s something, isn’t it?” he said.

“It sure is,” I replied, though we meant it in two completely different ways.

As angry as I was becoming, it was tough to direct it at David. He was too good-looking. Every time I glanced at him I felt the queasy butterfly feeling in my stomach. Instead, I kept focusing my mental frustration at Crazy Carl. Surely he was to blame for all this, since he was the owner. David was just an innocent employee. Right?

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