Tiger Trap (5 page)

“You’re welcome,” both my mother and I said. I didn’t know why she said
you’re welcome
, since I was the one who had fixed most of the meal.

“I hate to eat and run, but I better get going,” Martin said. “I was thinking I should take a little spin over to see Angus and Vladimir. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” my mother said.

I wasn’t certain it
was
such a good idea. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and not mentioned the stranger to anybody. But good or bad, it was done.

Quickly, I walked down the laneway to Tiger Town. My body had been in school all day, but my head had been here at the animal farm. In part I was thinking about Kanga and Roo. Another part was wondering what had happened to the stranger, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that. I just hoped Vladimir hadn’t done anything that might get him into trouble. And while I was worried about that, something else was preoccupying me. I was thinking about a conversation I wanted to have with Mr. McCurdy and Vladimir. I wanted to sit them both down and have a long, hard, serious talk about not getting more animals for Tiger Town. It just couldn’t go on like this, adding animal after animal.

I wanted to explain to them that they had to think of Tiger Town as a big boat — like Noah’s Ark. And all boats, no matter how big, could hold only so many animals. Heck, Noah took a pair of every animal, but he didn’t take every animal. There was a limit to how many animals any boat — or farm — could handle. And if you tried to put more animals on a boat than it could handle, the boat would eventually sink. Instead of saving all the animals you’d save no animals. That made sense … didn’t it?

I’d sit those two down and talk logically, making sense, explaining everything so they could see that what I was saying was right. The big problem, of course, was that sometimes their passion, their love of animals, got in the way of their thinking. At those times they didn’t even want to listen to logic because their minds were already made up. If they weren’t both such nice guys — wonderful guys — I’d get mad at them.

I entered the farmhouse. “Hello!”

Calvin came running down the hall toward me, using his arms to propel him, a big smile on his face. I knew what was going to come next, and I also knew I was helpless to stop it from happening.

The chimp threw his arms into the air, wrapped them around my neck and pulled me over until my head was at the same level as his. He then planted a big, loud, sloppy kiss right on my forehead!

“Calvin!” I screamed. “Let me go!” He released me from his vise-like grip, and I straightened back up. I wiped away the ape slobber from my face — at least he hadn’t kissed me on the mouth this time.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” I said.

The smile on Calvin’s face faded, and he looked sad. Oh, great, I’d hurt the chimp’s feelings. Now I felt bad. I didn’t like him kissing me because it was a bad combination of stale banana breath and saliva, but I knew he only kissed people he liked, so it was sort of an honour really. Maybe it would be better if I just put up with it and didn’t say anything. Sort of the way I put up with my great-aunts kissing me when we went to family gatherings. Either way I didn’t have much choice. There was family pressure to let my aunties kiss me and a pressure of a different kind involved with Calvin’s kiss — the sort of pressure that involved an animal so strong that he could actually rip an arm right out of its socket.

“Calvin,” I said, “I’m sorry. If you want to kiss me, that’s okay.”

He peered up at me, and his expression changed as he began to smile again. That was nice. I was glad he understood and that he was happy. Then Calvin put a finger against his nose, spread out his other hairy fingers, and went
“Ppplllllllzzzzzzzz!”
A mist of saliva shot into the air. He threw back his head, howled with laughter and raced back down the hall toward the kitchen.

Great! I’d just been rejected by a chimpanzee. The only good thing was that my brother hadn’t been around to witness it. I followed Calvin, but when I walked into the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks. There, sitting at the table, was that man!

“What … What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

He smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was the sort of smile the big bad wolf gave to Goldilocks. Lots of teeth and no sincerity.

“Answer me,” I demanded. “Why are you here?” I was shocked that I was so bold.

“I guess I could ask you the same question,” the stranger said. He stood up and suddenly seemed much bigger here in the confines of the kitchen. So much for feeling bold or brave. I took a half-step backwards.

“I just want to know where Mr. McCurdy is,” I said, my voice cracking over the last few words.

“Not far,” he said, taking a couple of steps toward me.

Terrified, I retreated the same number of steps. “Don’t you come any closer!”

“Closer?” he asked. He sounded confused … no, not confused,
amused
. “I’m only going closer to the
fridge
to get another soda. You don’t have any objections to me approaching the fridge, do you?” He walked to the fridge, opened the door and pulled out a Coke. “Do you want one?” He held the can out toward me.

“The only thing I want from you is to tell me where Mr. McCurdy is.” I took a few small steps backwards, just barely sliding my feet along the floor. I wanted to be close enough to the door to run outside and escape if he tried to get me. “What have you done with Mr. McCurdy?”

“Me?” he asked. “I’ve done nothing to Mr. McCurdy.” He started walking toward me.

I turned and banged into the wall, bounced off, then raced for the front door. I had to get out before the stranger could catch me. Hurling open the door, I bumped into Vladimir. I bounced back and then the swinging door shut and hit me. I was shocked by Vladimir’s sudden appearance, but relieved — he was here and could protect me!

“Big girl Sarah okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“He’s here! He’s here!” I practically screamed.

“Who? Where?” Vladimir sounded worried.

“That man … that man from yesterday!”

His worried expression dissolved into a smile. “You mean Anthony?”

“I don’t know what his name is … but you do … and you’re not worried, are you?”

“Not worried. Vladimir knows Anthony is here.”

“But why is he here?” I demanded. “He wanted to buy Kushna. He wanted to slaughter him!”

Vladimir laughed. “He did not really want to buy Kushna. Just pretend.”

“Pretend? Why would he pretend that?”

“Hard to explain. Come inside and meet Anthony.”

“I don’t want to meet him,” I said.

“Be nice, big girl Sarah. Anthony is a nice man.”

“How can he be nice?”

“He is nice. You see. Come, meet Anthony,” he said.

Before I could answer, Vladimir took me by the hand and led me inside. Trying to resist Vladimir would be basically impossible, but there was no reason he’d bring me back inside if there was any danger. We walked down the hall and into the kitchen. This man — this Anthony — was sitting at the table. Calvin was now sitting at the table, as well, right beside him. They were both drinking Cokes.

“Glad you decided to come back,” Anthony said.

“It wasn’t my idea,” I said.

“Anthony, tell Sarah why you asked about Kushna,” Vladimir said.

“Certainly. Please sit.” With his foot, he pushed out the chair directly across from him.

Reluctantly, against my better judgment, I sat down.

“I needed to ask about buying an animal and hint that I was going to do something bad with it to see if Angus and Vladimir would sell it to me,” Anthony said.

“Huh?”

“I was testing them,” he said.

“Testing them? What does that mean?”

“I’d heard they were good people who cared about their animals, but I had to be sure they weren’t into anything illegal with their animals.”

“If you knew them at all, you’d know they’d never do anything like that,” I said.

“That’s the thing. I didn’t know them. I had to find out for myself. I had to test them.”

“So you said all that stuff to test them?”

He nodded. “Exactly. Now do you understand?”

“I understand, but it’s still awful,” I said. “You can’t just go around playing tricks on people!”

“Tricks? You mean the way you came up and talked to me and tried to trick me into telling you who I was and what I was writing in my notebook?”

“That’s different,” I said.

“How?”

“Well … I wasn’t really trying to trick you or test you.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “What you were doing was more like spying.”

“I was just trying to find out what you were up to, that’s all,” I said.

“The way I was trying to find out what Angus and Vladimir were up to. Were they caring people or were they running a place where animals could be bought and sold for body parts for profit. I had to know.”

I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he was right. Perhaps he hadn’t done anything that different from what I had done. “I guess I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to trick you.”

Anthony laughed. “No fear there. I figured out what you were up to the moment you opened your mouth. You’re not, how should I say this, a very good actress.”

“I never said I was.”

“Some people just aren’t meant to lie,” he said.

“Big girl Sarah is very,
very
bad liar,” Vladimir said.

“I’d hate to rely on your ability to lie to anybody,” Anthony said.

“I guess I’m not a very good liar because I haven’t had much practice,” I said defensively. “Usually, I just tell the truth.”

“Sometimes there’s no choice,” Anthony said. “I had to lie to find out the truth. There was no way I was going to invest unless I was one hundred percent certain.”

“Invest?”

He smiled. “Here, in Tiger Town. You asked why I was here. I’m still here because I’m the newest partner.”

“I … I don’t understand,” I said.

“It is easy to understand,” Vladimir said. “Anthony gives money to run the place, build more pens, get more animals.”

“Why would he want to do that?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Because by becoming a partner I get a percentage of the profits from Tiger Town,” Anthony said.

“Profits? What profits?” I said before I could even think to stop myself. I shouldn’t have said that.

“There will be profits,” Anthony said. “It will take a lot of work and a lot of money, but once I get this place up and running the right way, it will make money. Sometimes you have to spend money to make money.”

“Is it not wonderful news?” Vladimir asked enthusiastically.

“Yeah, great news, great,” I said. It did sound like good news. That’s what my head said. My stomach gave a different answer.

I wandered between the rows of new pens. It was the Tiger Town I knew and loved, but it was different, so very different. The changes had been sudden, shocking and surprising. We’d been studying alliteration at school, and I found it fascinating, fun and phenomenal — did that last one count because it made the
f
sound, even though it started with a
ph
? Maybe Nick was right. I
did
like school too much.

It had been non-stop construction for a week. The work had started the day after Anthony arrived and hadn’t stopped, or shown any signs of stopping. Stacks of construction materials were still lying around, and there were lots of men — people I’d never met — converting these materials into pens, reconstructing the snack bar, repairing the barn and generally improving the grounds. There was a constant barrage of pounding hammers punctuated by the roaring, squealing sound of saws ripping into wood. I wondered if all the noise disturbed the animals as much as it bothered me. Mr. McCurdy said they’d get used to it. He was probably right, but either way it was happening.

So far eight new pens had been constructed. The new lion had one, while a second was home to our latest leopard. A third was home to a tiger that had just sort of magically appeared one day when I was at school. I hadn’t heard anything about it coming and then it was just there. A fourth pen was waiting for the kangaroos — who were now living in the spare bedroom in the farmhouse — to get old enough to be outside and on their own. The others were empty, though I suspected they wouldn’t stay vacant for long. At least that’s what Anthony had said. “Trust me,” he’d told me. “There’ll be animals in them soon.”

I
believed
him, but I certainly didn’t
trust
him. There was something about somebody saying
trust me
or
honestly
that made me
not
trust them and think that something
dis
honest was happening.

So far there was nothing I could really put my finger on. He’d done what he’d said he was going to do. He had pumped in a lot of money to improve the place. It was more the way he acted. He was always ordering people around as if he were the boss. I guess with the workmen he was the boss, but he seemed to be giving orders to Mr. McCurdy and Vladimir, as well. Mr. McCurdy owned the farm, and Vladimir didn’t need to take orders from anybody. The strange thing was that they appeared to be doing what he told them to do. And while they were working Anthony just sort of stood there, off to the side, often half hidden in the shadows, watching. He had this way of looking at people as if he were judging them or trying to figure them out. It was unnerving!

A couple of times he’d almost caught me staring at him, trying to figure him out. I’d managed to glance away quickly enough so that he hadn’t noticed.

But what really bothered me the most — and this was almost stupid — were Anthony’s shoes. I guess they weren’t shoes, but boots. Pointy toes, heels, shiny boots that extended up and under his jeans. He was always rubbing the top of one against the back of the other pant leg or bending down and rubbing them with a handkerchief he had in his back pocket. And those boots weren’t made of leather. It was some sort of fancy material … like the skin of a snake or reptile or something. I wasn’t going to ask. It just seemed really strange that somebody who said he was so interested in the welfare of animals would so proudly wear the skin of some dead animal.

Actually, come to think of it, I’d seen Anthony observing the animals, making notes, supervising the construction of new pens, talking about the animals, but I’d never really seen him appear that interested in the animals themselves. I’d never seen him “cooing” over the kangaroos, or petting Laura the cheetah or talking to Calvin. He even seemed nervous around Calvin. And I’d noticed that Calvin wasn’t offering to kiss him. That chimp was a good judge of people, I thought.

The only good thing about those boots of Anthony’s was that they made a very distinctive sound. I could always hear his heels against the gravel, which was my cue to make tracks.

“Hey, Sarah!”

I turned around. It was Nick … accompanied by Anthony. As much as I disliked Anthony, it seemed that Nick liked him. Then again I just wished Nick was as good a judge of character as he was a character. I stood there waiting for them.

“You should see Tiger Town’s website,” Nick said.

“Tiger Town has a website?” I said. “I didn’t even know we had a computer.”

“We have both now,” Anthony said. “State-of-the-art, top-of-the-line in both cases. We need to communicate with zoos, game farms, private collectors and animal dealers around the world.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I agreed reluctantly.

“Everything’s major high-tech, especially the cameras,” Nick said.

“What cameras?” I asked.

Anthony put a finger to his lips to silence me. “We don’t want people to know, but we’ve had surveillance cameras installed.”

“I haven’t seen any cameras.”

“That’s because we’ve camouflaged them,” Anthony explained. “I can see at least three of them from where we’re standing. Can you figure out where they are?”

I looked around, first in one direction, then the other. I didn’t see anything that even remotely seemed like a camera.

“That probably wasn’t fair,” Anthony said. “They aren’t visible, even if you know where to look. They’re hidden in the new lights that have been installed.”

I glanced at the nearest light. A series of lampposts had been newly installed along the paths. They really did look nice. “Why do we need cameras?” I asked.

“So we can safeguard our animals,” Anthony said. “We can’t be everywhere at once, but with the cameras we have extra eyes to make sure nobody does any harm to the animals, including things like opening up the cages. We don’t want Buddha out and about again.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I said, “but why are the cameras hidden? It feels like we’re spying on people.”

“The cameras are aimed at the animals and they’re hidden because people get uncomfortable when they think they’re being watched,” Anthony explained.

“I know
I
am,” I said.

“And people who are uncomfortable tend not to return. We need our customers, our visitors, to make many return visits.”

“And you think we can get enough visitors to pay for all this new stuff?” I asked.

“They’ll pay for part of it. The visitors are only one stream of revenue.”

“Stream of revenue?”

“It’s a business term. It means that money, income, revenue, comes from different sources, different
streams
.”

“Oh, you mean like we make money from selling the ice-cream bars,” I said.

He chuckled. “Like all the things that will be sold at the
new
snack bar. But that’s just one trickle as opposed to a stream.”

“Then what are the other streams?” I asked.

“The major source will involve the sale of animals.”

“What?” I gasped. “We can’t sell animals!”

“Of course we can. We will.”

“Mr. McCurdy will never agree to that.”

“He will and he has,” Anthony said. “Do you think I’m doing all of this behind his back? All game farms buy, sell and trade animals continually. I know Mr. McCurdy bought and sold animals during his time working for the circus.”

“I’m sure he
bought
animals,” I shot back.

“What do you think he did with all the animals he bred?” Anthony asked.

I hadn’t thought about that. I knew Mr. McCurdy had had a lot of success breeding and raising all sorts of animals, and they all couldn’t have stayed with the circus.

“Everything will be done with legitimate zoos and game farms, people committed to caring for animals,” Anthony said.

“Oh, that’s good,” I said.

“You sound surprised by that. Did you think we were going to sell them to illegal traders?”

“Of course not,” I lied. I wasn’t sure what Anthony had in mind.

“There would be a lot more money in illegal sales, as we all know, but if we selectively buy, breed, rescue and rehabilitate animals, we can make this farm profitable. Take those kangaroos, for example.”

“What about Kanga and Roo?” I asked.

“The farm got the two kangaroos for free. If those two can be successfully raised, they can be sold for close to ten thousand dollars each.”

“You want to sell my kangaroos?”

“First off, the kangaroos belong to Tiger Town. Second, there are no plans to sell the kangaroos at this time.”

I felt better.

“Quite frankly, the kangaroos are simply not marketable at this time,” Anthony said. “They’re still too young, require far too much care and might not even survive to adulthood.”

“Kanga and Roo are going to live!”

“I certainly hope so,” he said. “It would be
awful
if something happened to them.”

That was nice — and unexpected — of him to say that. Maybe I’d really been misjudging him, had been too hard on him. After all, he did like the —

“Dead animals mean lost money, and we’re going to work to make this place profitable,” he said.

So much for that thought.

“There are, of course, some animals that would never be sold,” Anthony continued. “For example, Laura and Calvin, Polly, Kushna and Buddha.”

“I hope not. They’re pets.”

“They’re also not worth anything.”

“How can you say that?” I asked, feeling offended.

“It’s a fact. They’re all too old and have far too many bad habits to be worth anything to anybody except Angus or Vladimir. In fact, the only value Calvin would have is as a laboratory subject.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, not knowing but definitely not liking the sound of it.

“Research labs are always looking for primates to pursue scientific research,” Anthony explained. “They test new medicines and surgical procedures and —”

“That’s so inhumane!”

“That’s why they don’t use humans,” Anthony said. “But Calvin’s safe. The only thing he’d be good for is the Pepsi Challenge to see which soft drink really does taste the best.”

Nick laughed at Anthony’s little attempt at a joke.

“Mr. McCurdy wouldn’t sell Calvin for a million dollars,” I insisted.

“You’re correct, and that’s where he went wrong.”

I gave him a questioning and angry glare.

“If you get too close to the animals, make them into pets, you can’t make the right business decisions regarding the animals.”

“But maybe the best thing you can do is to get close to the animals,” I argued. “Why would you be involved in something like this if you didn’t like animals?”

He smirked. “Remind me never to become a business partner of yours.”

Nick chuckled again. He was really becoming a little suck-up. I knew how to push that laughter back down his throat.

“Are you going to sell Peanuts?” I asked.

“Peanuts?” Nick yelped.

I saw the colour drain from his face. I knew how much he loved that elephant, and it was mean of me even to suggest selling Peanuts. “I figure a big animal like that must be worth a lot of money,” I said.

“More than the kangaroos,” Anthony said. “But the elephant will be staying right here.”

I could see the relief on Nick’s face. “I don’t understand,” I said. “You’d sell the kangaroos, but you won’t sell Peanuts. Why?”

“I have other ideas in mind for the elephant,” Anthony said.

“What sort of ideas?” I asked, thinking about ivory traders and the elephant’s tusks.

“Did you know that a baby elephant is worth between thirty and fifty thousand dollars?” Anthony asked.

“Yeah, but Peanuts isn’t a baby.”

“But he could help to produce babies.”

“That would be pretty hard to do on his own, don’t you think?” I said.

“I’m glad you understand the basics of reproduction. We have enough space on this farm to support a whole
herd
of elephants. A whole herd that could form a breeding stock to produce lots of little elephants.”

“That would be incredible!” Nick said. “Just incredible! Wait until Peanuts sees that he’s got friends.”

“Speaking of Peanuts, have you cleaned his pen today?” I asked.

“Well, not yet.”

“You know that’s one of your jobs and it needs to be done.”

“It’s a big job,” Nick said, “because elephants
do
big jobs. It can wait until tomorrow.”

“I think your sister’s right, Nick,” Anthony said. Judging by the look on my brother’s face, he was as surprised as I was that Anthony was agreeing with something I had said. “Visitors don’t like messy pens, and I noticed that the elephant pen does need attention. Besides, if we can’t count on your help with
one
elephant, what will happen when there are
many
elephants?”

That was a good point. Maybe shovelling elephant dung for the day would dampen Nick’s enthusiasm about a whole herd living here.

“As well, it will give me a chance to talk to Sarah,” Anthony added.

I straightened up. What did he want to talk to me about? Whatever it was I really didn’t want to speak to him. I’d spent the better part of the past week deliberately working at not talking to him.

“If that’s all right with you, Sarah,” Anthony said.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It just seems like you’re always trying to avoid me.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I lied.

He smiled — that sick, smirky smile of his that without words said he knew I was lying.

“Okay, then I better get going,” Nick said, walking off.

“So, Sarah, I was hoping to get your opinion,” Anthony said when Nick was out of earshot.

“You want my opinion?” I asked.

He nodded. “Your opinion’s important to me.”

“Well,” I began, “there certainly have been a lot of changes to improve Tiger Town.”

“That’s not what I want your opinion on. I want to know what you think about me.”

“About you?”

“Yes, tell me your insights and assessment of me.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I thought of him, but I couldn’t really say that.