Page 32 of Big Island Horizons
When they were ready to move on from the tigers – after the white tiger had grown bored of its fenceline pacing and the orange one had taken a swim – they walked up and around past some tropical birds.
‘Olena paused to look at the binturong who, sure enough, was sound asleep on a tree branch. The strange mammal had a mess of white whiskers protruding from its gray face. Its tail was as long and thick as her arm. Kiki stared at it for a while, willing it to move, before running to catch up with the other kids.
The kinkajous were also sound asleep in their little wooden house, but the marmosets were wide awake and active. The tiny monkeys leapt around their enclosure, branch to branch to branch. They were playful creatures, constantly tackling and wrestling each other.
Of all the creatures in the zoo (save the free-roaming peacocks, which didn’t really count) the marmosets seemed least affected by their captivity – maybe because they had enough friends and enough space.
To the kids’ delight, one landed a few inches away from their faces and tilted its head from side to side, ninety degrees each way, examining them with curious brown eyes.
They stayed there for a long time, until a bathroom emergency made it necessary for her to usher the whole gaggle of kids through to the other side of the zoo. Once that was sorted and everyone had peed, they worked their way back around to see the rest of the animals.
Finally, they ended at the playground, where the other half of the playschool was already racing up slides or lounging in the shade, according to age and temperament.
“Time for lunch?” Georgia asked when ‘Olena joined her on a bench.
“Let them run off some more energy first.” She glanced up at the moody sky. “It looks like rain. We can pull them under cover for lunch when that starts.”
Sure enough, the early drops crested to a downpour about twenty minutes later. The kids ran screaming for shelter – more out of the joy of running and screaming than any real aversion to the rain – and gathered at the picnic tables to break open their packed lunches.
Once the kids were settled and eating, ‘Olena took advantage of the relative calm to check her phone. There was a voicemail waiting for her from Hana, her contact at the Office of the County Clerk.
She tried to tell herself that it was nothing, just a call to check in on her ongoing project and renovations of New Horizons, but a niggling sense of dread worked its way up her spine. She walked away from the kids, to the edge of the big pavilion that sheltered the picnic tables from the rain, and returned the call.
“Office of the County Clerk, this is Hana.”
“Aloha, Auntie. It’s ‘Olena.”
“‘Olena.” Hana’s voice dropped an octave, taking on a compassionate tone before she had even broken the news. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I’ve been with the kids all morning. What’s up?”
“The Council has asked me to tell you to press pause on the New Horizons project.”
“What does that mean?”
“Apparently there’s an issue with the use of the building. Are you there now?”
“No, I’m at the zoo.”
“Shoot. Do you have anything there that you need to get out?”
“Why?”
“They’re sending someone down to put a chain on the doors. It’s a liability issue. They can’t have people going in and out without oversight.
“But I have the keys.”
“Yes… They’ve also requested that you drop those off here at the office.” Hana’s tone was apologetic, which only made ‘Olena’s blood boil more. The complacency of it, to let an important building sit locked when there were people ready and willing to keep the community center running.
“We’ve put work into that building,” she said in a level voice, only loud enough to be heard over the rain that poured down a few inches from her face. “My dad fixed the roof, we cleaned it top to bottom and repainted…”
“Yes, they’re not happy about the mural that appeared in the local paper. Technically speaking, it’s an act of vandalism.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Officially, you didn’t have permission to do anything permanent to the building.”
“You told me that it would be my responsibility to maintain the place!”
