The phoenix keeper, p.28
The Phoenix Keeper, page 28
Sometimes, Connor could be so… frustrating, the way he insisted she made too big a deal of things. She did make too big a deal of things. Sometimes. But not like she could twiddle her thumbs and wait for the worst to blow over—not when her phoenixes were on the line.
Once the path curved away from the unicorn exhibit, Tanya jumped on her like a rabid marmoset. Aila yelped in alarm.
“Look at you, Ailes!” Tanya beamed. “Standing up for yourself. Always knew my girl was fiery, but damn.”
Aila slumped. “I guess.”
“You guess? Told that fine boy off something fierce. What a sight.”
“You’re glad I told him off? You’re the one who wanted me to talk to him in the first place!”
Tanya waved a hand, flashing sky-blue nails. “I want you with someone who makes you happy, Ailes. If Connor doesn’t? Throw that boy wayside.”
Aila scrunched her nose. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. Maybe I was too mean to him. Maybe I should have…”
“Ailes.” Amid their swerving path through distracted patrons, the curves of concrete walkways, Tanya’s hand clasped Aila’s like an anchor in stormy seas. “You know I support you. The real you. There’s nothing wrong with being a little quiet, a little reserved. But sometimes, you get so caught up in your own head, you stop seeing the world around you properly.”
Tanya was right. Aila knew she was right. But what was she supposed to see properly, through the anxiety haze? Just how Connor frustrated her more than she’d like?
Or how he made her feel like her interests were silly.
Or how he talked down to her like a child who couldn’t be fully trusted in public.
That was how most people treated Aila—nothing exceptional on Connor’s part.
Though… shouldn’t she ask more from someone she might offer her heart to? The chance to share herself without a veil? Aila needed a moment to think. To breathe. Time for the world to slow down so she could deal with Connor in a better headspace. As if that would ever happen, with phoenix breeding season fast approaching.
“Though I’ve got to wonder the occasion, finally speaking your mind.” Tanya squinted down at Aila, tapping her chin. “You have your eye on someone new?”
“What?” Aila blurted. “Of course not. What would give you that idea?”
Tanya held her stare.
“Tanya, if there was someone else, you’d be the first person in the world I’d tell.”
“Sure. Of course.”
That level of dripping doubt, even Aila’s stunted social radar could detect. What of it? Aila didn’t have her eye on anyone else. She’d know if that was the case. No reason at all for her to feel defensive.
Tanya broke away when they reached the phoenix exhibit arbors. “I should get over to the admin building. Good form to show up a little early. You still fine covering my afternoon food rounds?”
Another meeting about the volunteer keeper program. Tanya had a few of those recently, but Aila didn’t mind. “Of course, no problem. I’ll see you back for closing?”
“You’re the best, Ailes.” Tanya flicked her ponytail before pushing off into the crowd. “Have fun with the camera! Don’t be too mean to Luc, you hear?”
That stipulation depended significantly on Luciana, but… yeah. Aila would try.
The crowd of patrons at the phoenix exhibit grew larger every day, swathed in red feather headbands and T-shirts. Aila spotted Rubra and Carmesi through the glass, hopping through an olive tree and offering each other branches to inspect. She shoved aside the knots Connor left in her stomach and hurried inside the keeper complex, eager to get to work.
Inside, a tease of mango hit her nose. The first thing her eyes landed on was glossy curls.
Aila had cultivated such an efficient fight-or-flight response to Luciana, her heart still did a little twirl to see her maybe-former nemesis seated at the metal counter by the observation window. Tame. Knees crossed primly as she tapped away on a laptop. At the desk beside her, Nadia from the griffin show sat at a brand-new computer monitor, headphones resting around her neck, discarded cling wrap and foam packaging scattered around her chair.
“Hey, Aila,” Nadia greeted. “Back from your world camera tour?”
“Finally. How can I help?”
“Help?”
“With the camera setup?”
Nadia let out a puff of air. “Oh, that? Already done.”
“What?”
Aila rushed to the desk, dodging landmines of cardboard and discarded user manuals strewn about the floor.
“Aila, please,” Nadia said around a wad of chewing gum. “I updated your entire CCTV system in a day. You think I need more time for a single live camera? Those things are a snap to set up.”
Beside her, Luciana tilted a brow.
“I know that for professional reasons, thanks.” Nadia rolled her eyes.
Aila shoved between them, grip tight on the desk, words quick. “But what do you mean done? Like done, done? Did you run into any problems? Is everything working OK? Skies and seas, is it live yet? Are the birds behaving? Did you make sure to get them in the frame and—”
“Aila.”
Who was that, who’d just spoken Aila’s name so soft? It couldn’t be…
Luciana’s grin curved perfect crimson lips, some scrunch to her eyes Aila wasn’t used to seeing. A weapon of some kind, surely. Preparing to deliver a slicing remark. Aila braced for the inevitable ridicule over her childish behavior.
“Take a look.” Luciana slid her laptop over.
Wary, Aila took it.
One glance, then she practically pressed her nose to the screen. The webpage interface had been updated since the Jewelport camera: a sleek black frame with the San Tamculo peacock griffin logo at the top. Center stage, a video of familiar olive trees, Rubra and Carmesi in the frame as they chased each other through the branches.
Aila inhaled a long breath, ready to scream.
“I got some inspiration from a friend in Ziclexia,” Luciana said. “Kristina? From college? We caught up last weekend. She told me all about this layout they use for the yellow-finned caiman cam at their zoo, sent me the web template.” She smirked, a slow curl of crimson lips. “She says hello, by the way. And all her best wishes for the phoenixes.”
Yeah. Aila remembered. A friend from college, the one Luciana had worked so hard to support, who’d gone on to a kick-ass reptile conservation program in Ziclexia. Aila couldn’t believe any friend of Luciana’s remembered her. She couldn’t believe the gorgeous new webpage. While she gawked at the screen, Rubra hopped out of frame.
The camera shifted to track her.
“It moves?” Aila exclaimed in half words, half squeaks.
“Oh, yeah.” Nadia leaned back in her chair, feet propped on the desk. “Updated a few things since that old unicorn camera got set up—higher resolution and basic motion tracking. Welcome to the modern age.”
Aila fumbled to take it all in. The monitor by Nadia displayed a similar screen to what she’d seen in the unicorn barn, though sleeker: a video feed from the camera, an audio monitor bouncing with playful phoenix clucks. Luciana’s laptop showed a separate web page, the public interface for viewing the camera. Live for less than half an hour. Few people had trickled into the viewer tally, but already, the chat box moved as a steady scroll.
Look at them go!
So glad to see them getting along.
Loved watching the Jewelport cam, so happy this one is finally up!
Omg, did one just grab a leaf?
The talk went on and on, viewers growing by the second. Questions about the breeding program. Gushing over the birds. Greetings from Movas, Renkaila, Silimalo, Vjar. Every line, bursting with enthusiasm and support, festooned with smiley faces and little phoenix emojis.
All for Rubra and Carmesi.
All for Aila’s birds.
“Well? What do you think?” Luciana leaned her elbows on the counter, that strange eagerness scrunching her eyes as she awaited Aila’s reply.
Aila broke the silence with a heinous sniff.
“It’s all right, I guess,” she said, wiping the tears off her cheeks.
Nadia walked Aila through the camera program and settings. Luciana regaled her with the branding, the contact info for the chat moderators, then several distressingly kind words.
“This is a huge step forward for the program,” Luciana said in those honeyed tones that, for once, came out sweet. “You won’t regret this, Aila.”
Aila didn’t. The phoenix transfer became real the day Carmesi arrived. Yet this was the moment, watching her two birds on the camera feed, Aila finally felt the ashes stirring, her childhood program rekindling. All they needed now were eggs.
Once the griffin keepers left for their afternoon show, Aila barely tore herself away from the camera long enough to speed through her own chores. Then she was back with eyes glued to the screen, mesmerized to see her phoenixes preening on the feed, their names scrolling through the chat box.
She barely noticed the click of the door when Tanya returned. The heavy scrape of boots on linoleum finally broke her reverie.
“Tanya! The camera’s up! Come look, it’s amazing!”
“Oh, that’s nice, Ailes.”
Tanya didn’t race over to admire the camera feed. She moved to her desk, a rustle of papers filling the room.
“Come on, Tanya. You’ve got to look!”
“I’m sure it’s fabulous, Aila.”
“It’s even got motion tracking!”
“That’s wonderful news.” Tanya crossed the room toward the kitchen. “I’ll come look in a second. I just need to…” She stopped in the kitchen doorway. Stared. “Aila. Did you feed my afternoon rounds?”
Had she…?
Shit.
The food bowls for Tanya’s aviaries sat on the kitchen counter, forgotten in Aila’s haste.
“Tanya,” she peeped. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry! The camera set-up took longer than expected, and you know how I can get distracted, and I got a little carried away, I guess, and I didn’t mean to forget, but the camera’s amazing and you should come…”
Tanya slumped against the doorframe, head in her hands, slim braids tangled around the blue of her nails. The sight sobered Aila like a pail of kelpie water to the face.
“Tanya,” she asked with the might of a mouse. “How did your meeting for the volunteer program go?”
“Not great, Aila.”
“What happened?”
“We didn’t get the grant we applied for. Can still ask for funds during the next donor meeting. I need to work on my proposal tonight, make sure everything’s airtight. Would have been nice to close up on time.”
Tanya’s distress drilled into Aila’s ribcage, leaving a squirm of mealworms where her heart ought to be. Tanya, the majestic giraffe, her eyes dull and shoulders caved forward. The sight was unfathomable. Impermissible. How could this have happened?
“Why do you need money for a volunteer program?” Aila asked, because she couldn’t think of anything else.
“For training. For uniforms. Updates to the computer system. Takes a lot of work to start something new. You know that, Ailes.”
Of course Aila knew that. She’d been mired in that mud for months. “It will be OK, Tanya. You have time to get this sorted out. We’ve been so busy with the phoenix program.”
“We have. I’ve given you a lot of time.”
Aila shrank at the clip in Tanya’s tone, the bite of that accusation. They’d renovated this building together. Filed the paperwork together. Applied for the camera together. Her desk chair squeaked, spurred by an anxious swivel.
Tanya softened. “And I chose to give that time. I wanted to. But the phoenix program is your project, Ailes.”
“It’s our project.”
“It’s yours. Those are your birds, your dream. This volunteer program is something of mine. It’s important to me.”
Aila’s nose scrunched to a painful caricature. “Then why have you hardly said anything about it?”
“I have, Aila. I’ve been in meetings for months. But you’ve been so focused on the phoenixes, you hardly notice anything else.”
Tanya didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to. The keen edge on her words was enough, that wispy little warble on a couple syllables that only meant one thing.
Aila had disappointed her.
Aila’s ears rang. Not Tanya. She couldn’t fight like this with Tanya.
“I can help,” she pleaded. “I could… write something. For your proposal? I’m good at reports now!”
“I don’t need you to do this for me.” Tanya’s words cut between the clack of metal food bowls, a pile of pellets and defrosted fish chunks in her arms. “I just need some time of my own to get this done. And I need to get this food out before closing.”
“I can—”
“It’s fine, Aila. I’ll take care of it.”
Tanya swept out the door like a gale, leaving Aila a crumpled leaf in her wake.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aila didn’t see Tanya again before the zoo closed.
By the time she locked up her side of the World of Birds aviary and moved Maisie into her back tank for the night, Aila returned to the phoenix complex to find Tanya’s bag gone. Several folders of paperwork had vanished from her desk.
Rubra and Carmesi had already settled into their back aviary, snuggled together beneath the space heater, two puffs of crimson feathers bathed in rosy light. Aila slid closed the gate to the exhibit, checked all the locks, grabbed the old food bowls and carried them to the kitchen.
There, she found Tanya’s peace offering: the sink piled high with dirty dishes.
Aila set to work, paying her penance in suds and scalding water, in mirror flamingo krill mush and stubborn clumps of food pellets crusted to the bottom of the bowls. A simple apology. In the morning, Tanya would arrive to spotless dishes and a spotless kitchen. She’d thank Aila for cleaning up, forgive her for their little spat, then they’d go about their day like everything was fine.
Everything didn’t feel fine. Aila had let Tanya down. Today, and for the past few months, not giving the support her friend deserved for her volunteer program.
Once the sink was empty, floor swept, counter cleared of every scrap of leftover kale, Aila and her pruned fingers returned to her desk. She pushed her chair into a slow swivel, taking in the quiet of the room, the hum of the fridge and new electronics.
She faced her phoenix poster. The crinkled edges looked extra yellow in the drift of fluorescent light from the kitchen. Not twenty feet away, Aila’s phoenixes slumbered in their aviary, a dream finally being realized.
None of this would have been possible without a battalion of griffin show keepers pitching in to bring the building up to snuff. Without Connor helping to wrangle the linoleum flooring into place. Without Nadia rewiring their computers. Without Luciana calling out the marching orders and singing sweet words to the news cameras.
But Aila especially wouldn’t be here without Tanya, her untiring work and ceaseless emotional support.
Just that afternoon, Tanya had warned Aila not to get so caught up in her anxiety, she stopped seeing the world around her properly. Yet that was exactly what she’d done with Connor, refusing to heed how small and unsettled he made her feel. With Luciana, failing to see what positive things she could bring to the phoenix program.
Now, with Tanya, blind to how much her best friend was struggling.
It seemed unfair. The moment Aila clawed a step forward, she slipped back again. She thought about going home, hiding like she always did, waiting for a new day when Tanya would return to her chipper self, then they could pretend this never happened.
Tanya deserved better than that.
She deserved better than Aila, honestly. But if Aila was all Aila had to offer, she’d better find the best version of Aila to put forward. Made more palatable with chocolate, at least.
To the grocery store, then.
Aila locked up the building and departed the zoo. She took the eastbound train, hopped off, then swept through a supermarket like a scavenging kelpie, emerging like a coat rack loaded with overfull canvas tote bags. Then back on to the train. Into the suburbs.
Tanya lived in a quieter part of the city than Aila, shorter buildings and wider lots on twisting cul-de-sacs, crickets buzzing beneath the streetlamps. Aila—whose eyes had been perhaps too large for her spindly arms—wobbled herself and her heavy bags up the concrete walkway, past Teddy’s latest attempts at water-wise landscaping (mostly gravel and some succulents), onto the porch hung with yellow string lights. She knocked on the door.
Theodore answered it.
He stood on the threshold in flannel pajama bottoms and a faded T-shirt printed with some movie Aila half-remembered marathoning with Tanya a few years back. As Teddy appraised the visitor—her heavy breathing, the canvas bags steadily dragging her toward the ground—his brow twitched upward.
“Oh, OK,” he said mildly. “Unexpected. But we can work with this.”
“Hi, Teddy,” Aila panted. “Has Tanya told you what happened?”
“I got the highlights.”
“Good. If you’re caught up, we can get straight to—”
Before Aila could step inside, Teddy planted himself in the doorway, barring entry.
“What are you going to say?” he asked.
Aila blinked. Readjusted the bag handle on her wrist to avoid cutting off circulation. “Um… I was… gonna go for something from the heart? Whatever comes to my brain?”
Teddy’s brow rose higher.
“Shit. You’re right,” Aila groaned. “That’s a horrible idea. I’m a horrible idea. I had the whole train ride here, and I didn’t even—”
“Practice on me.”
“What?”
Teddy stood at full height, arms crossed in what could only be—comically—his Tanya impression. “Practice what you’re going to say.”
Why not? Aila sucked in a deep breath.
“Tanya, I was an idiot, and so dumb, and careless, and I didn’t think about your feelings at all, which is ridiculous, because I care a lot about your feelings, and they’re good feelings, possibly the best feelings, but then I went and ignored you, but I did do the dishes like you wanted, but that didn’t seem enough, so…”
