The darkness of the small mammal room was punctured only by the occasional red light. The inhabitants of this place found red to be the equivalent of dark, and yet allowed those who preferred the day to view them freely. Fed-lit rodents were far more interesting to watch than sleeping rodents. For the need of entertainment and education, these nocturnal creatures slept the whole night by and remained busy during the daylight hours.
From time to time, Spencer was aware that she was almost as interesting to watch as the small mammals she cared for. School children pressed their faces against the glass –carefully watching her fill each bowl, and clean each enclosure. Spencer was center-stage; as the children took in each movement.
Of course, they were not the only watchers. Small brown eyes fixed on her every move, waiting for the moment when the cage doors would be closed, and they could descend upon the gifts that she had brought. The room echoed with the chirrups and squeaks of small creatures – each speaking a different voice as if to accent that they were from different parts of the world. "Could sugar gliders understand chinchilla?" she mused, not for the first time. The air reeked with the smell of urine making and yesterday's vegetable offering. Spencer alone breathed freely, now numb to odors that would cause another to gag.
The other keepers had thought her a bit odd from the start. Most who went into the zoo business did so out of a deep love and respect for all furry legged creatures. Often, the politics of the work environment combined with the physical labor and poor pay were enough to turn even the most dedicated animal lover sour.
Not so with Spencer. It was here amidst her fellow creatures that she found her deepest peace. No amount of human pettiness could touch that, and so, she remained apart. A species unto her own self.
The sound of a key opening the door to the large keeper's area broke through her reverie. Bright light flooded from the small mammal kitchen into the exhibition area. Ron stood in the doorway and beckoned her towards the streaming light. She walked towards the diet kitchen, annoyed that her normal thought process had been interrupted.
"The Curator needs a word with you about scheduling."
"Scheduling?" she questioned while brushing her dirty hands on the back of her now dirty pants. "That is bizarre, even for her." Spencer eyed Ron's face carefully. He was the least offensive of all the other homo-sapiens in the place, in part because he wore his thoughts in full view of any who would see. Ron was the sort who would lose miserably at any game requiring someone to bluff.
Ron shrugged care freely. "Well, this whole vandalism thing has her on edge. I think that she's considering moving folks to the night shift to ward off future problems at the zoo."
"I thought that was what zoo security was," she snorted loudly but not unattractively. "Useless creatures…"
"Well, exactly," Ron replied. "Who knows who has been responsible for the outbreak? She does not trust anyone at this point."
Spencer rolled her eyes at the remark. "I suppose I should just get this over with then," she sighed. "The sooner the better." She shoved a plate of small biscuits at him. "Here. Be a pal and finish up with the binturongs, will you?" She walked to the exit door, and out into the sunshine, her eyes were struggling to adjust to the light.
Later that night, over her dinner salad and wine, she wondered why she had ever acquiesced to working the third shift. The Curator had been amiable enough, stating that she would only move her to that shift if she were willing. Spencer felt oddly compelled to oblige – and she found herself rationalizing the compulsion as being out of concern for the critters in her care. Besides, she was happily unattached. A schedule change in her life wouldn't impact anyone except for herself. As the wine began to settle in her bones, she relaxed. The situation would be temporary – just until they were able to thwart the vandalism that had been occurring. The biggest benefit would be the absence of others – it was hard to be drawn into political intrigue when you were by yourself.
Once she had finished her meal she cleared the table of her dirty dishes, continuing to muse about her new shift. After she was done she cleared her "work space." As Spencer crawled into bed she wondered if she would get a good night sleep. With a chuckle she mused that the next time it may very well be for a good DAY'S sleep.
The quilt drawn up around her nose, Spencer began to drift into sleep. As her mind slowly let go its grip upon consciousness, she heard the approaching sound of thunder. Winds gusted and swirled, and rain pelted her bedroom window. With a sigh to deep for words, she rolled over and buried herself deep within the covers, the sounds of the storm lulling her into a deep sleep.
Ashley stared at the dull sign. "Guardian Angels Security Systems". When she had first heard of an available employment at this company, she was more than a bit leery. A security provider who hired only women must be a transparent cover for a bizarre escort service. As she adjusted her uniform, she recalled her delight in finding that the company owned by a woman, who reasoned that there were times when it was more comfortable for female clients to have women guards.
Of course, Ashley couldn't conceive of how any woman would feel wary enough to have guards. She was comfortable in fending for herself. Like many of her fellow family members she had come into this world as an infant, carried by her caring mother. Ashley sighed deeply. Since that time, the roles had switched. She was carrying her mother now. Her mother who had walked through mine-fields and ran through security checkpoints couldn't even stand now. A life of hardship had finally cost her. Disease had worked its way through her already frail body.
Ashley had stepped into the role of her mother's provider easily. She was raised to be a fighter. Strong. Independent. Those gifts that her mother had purchased for her with her very life would now be used to support the giver.
She had asked to work the graveyard shift so that she could be with her mother during the daylight hours. Her younger brother would be able to watch her at night while she worked. It would allow him to keep his job down at the pier, and have dinner with his family. It was an adjustment for everyone, but nothing compared with the "adjustments" her own mother had made for them.
Ashley stared again at the assignment sheet. The New City zoo wasn't exactly the sort of first assignment that she had had in mind. Creatures in cages made her angry –and although she intellectually understood the zoos served purposes other than entertainment –she knew the general population felt otherwise. Sadly, the assignment suggested that the vandals didn't feel that even entertainment value of the animals was adequate. Ashley's face broke into a feral grin. If it was entertainment they were after she'd give them entertainment.
She arrived at the zoo an hour before its closing. The tour of the zoo took less than a hour. The regular security staff seemed to take great umbrage at the appearance of her firm, as well they should. The notes on the assignment sheet suggested that there was some suspicion that it was the regulars who were at fault. The scenario was so typical as to almost be cliché.
The layout of the zoo bordered on a maze. Ashley suspected that the original architects wanted to make the zoo seem larger by increasing the distance between point A and point B with curved lines. It was the old "you can't get there, from here" scenario –with a straight line in the place. Although the zoo had some of the standards –zebras, lions, chimps and reptiles of various stripes- the central feature was the wolf exhibit. This expansive exhibit, easily the newest and the largest of the zoo, stretched along the interior of the zoo from one side to the other. Visitors could cross the center of the exhibit by way of a raised bridge, which allowed a bird's eye view of the wolves, as well as the rest of the zoo. It would make a fine place to wait and watch. She walked from the guardhouse back to the bridge, and spent time surveying the area.
Ashley's eyes were drawn to the gathering storm clouds. So it would rain again tonight. Hopefully the rains would pass tonight as quickly as last night's storm had come and gone. A chill danced along her spine as the wind picked up. The few remaining visitors clamored for the exit gate – umbrellas popping up amongst those who were prepared. Parents shooed their children under the protection of their arms as the rain began to fall. Perhaps the weather would keep the vandals at bay. Ashley chuckled. Somehow spraying paint wasn't as entertaining when you were being soaked to the skin.
A car drove up to the brunette's booth and she leaned out the window to check its occupant. A blonde girl was rummaging through her purse.
"I'm sorry I know I have my card here somewhere…"
"It's okay…" Ashley said a little agitated, "take your time."
Eventually the blonde found her identification card and gave it to Ashley, who scanned it over briefly before handing it back to her.
"Alright you're cleared…"
The blonde nodded and stepped on the gas to exit the zoo. Ashley shook her head amused, musing to herself that that woman must have no life.
Spencer blinked her eyes at the clock. Her brain acknowledged the fact, but her spirit demanded a recount. Eleven a.m. She'd slept for all of three hours. How her little friends managed it, she couldn't say – but somehow they adjusted their own internal clocks with the help of bright lights at night, and red lights during the day. That was the problem, of course. During the evenings in the small mammal house, the lights were turned on and all the inhabitants slept soundly. During the day, the red lights came back on, lulling them into the contrived night time. She was dealing with bright lights at night – and during the day. Damned circadian rhythm. She should hand thicker drapes in the bedroom – or better yet, perhaps she could petition the city to install red filters over the sun.
Of course, it was too late for today. She was already thinking – and not sleeping. Spencer dragged herself from bed and wandered into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she realized that other things had suffered from her new schedule. The fridge was a cavern - holding an assortment of half-spent condiments, but little nourishment. In disgust, she threw a sweatshirt over her head and sneakers on bare feet. A quick breakfast at the diner would restore her spirits. If breakfast didn't do it, the coffee would.
The late-morning air already smelled stale from the many lungs that had breathed in the precious oxygen, and left carbon dioxide in its wake. The noise was subdued, however. It certainly wasn't the noise of those bustling off to work, and she was apparently early enough to beat the lunch rush. Spencer turned the corner and bumped into a small woman who had, up until the collision, stood there motionless.
The small woman responded quickly – crouching into a defensive pose. When she realized that her "attacker" was still wearing pajama pants, she allowed herself to smile. With one fluid motion she stood up straight again, giving the impression that she had meant to do that all along.
Spencer chuckled. Cats did that when they landed incorrectly – it was called displacement activity. They'd land wrong and immediately start grooming themselves as if to say "I planned to do it that way".
"I really didn't mean to laugh," Spencer said, reaching out her hand, "it's just that you looked so cat-like in you reaction. I'm Spencer."
"Ashley." The smaller woman took Spencer's hand. "And its okay. I've not had much sleep the last couple of days and it has left me a bit jittery." Ashley looked carefully at the taller woman. Yes, there was something familiar about her, but she couldn't place it.
"I hear you. I've been switched to third shift, and simply can't adjust." Spencer yawned for emphasis. "Again, my apologies." Spencer moved towards the door of the Diner.
Not a problem, really. I was just standing here debating if I really wanted coffee – or if I should try to go home and sleep. Such a weighty decision, you know?" Ashley smiled. "I've taken up third shift as well – and I'm beginning to wonder if it was the wise decision I thought it was".
"Ah, THAT's it then," cried Ashley. "That's where I've seen you! I'm with the new security team that has been brought into the zoo. You looked familiar, but I simply couldn't place it."
"So you're one of our "Guardian Angels", eh? I thought it interesting that the Director would hire an all-female security team. I knew she was progressive – but it was a pleasant surprise." Spencer motioned towards the door of the diner. "You know, I think you just solved your dilemma regarding that coffee. Come join me for breakfast, and I'll fill you in on what I know regarding the vandals".
"Spencer, that sounds like a plan".
Spencer watched the screen with concern. The news reports weren't good. The vandalism at the zoo had miraculously decreased, perhaps due to increased security, but vandals had apparently made the rest of New City their target. The DPW had its hands full cleaning up after successive storms, branches and fallen wires being of greater concern than graffiti. The vandals apparently saw the lax response as permission to continue.
It wasn't just vandals, either. Roaming groups of young men had begun walking the streets at night. These young men were "wilding", one reporter commented, "Lost Boys" said another. It was if the youth of the city were answering to some deep calling, and that calling was to a form of insanity. Whatever was happening had effected the homeless population as well. Normally, the homeless gathered under bridges and in parks, forming small communities of support. In recent weeks, however, the communities had set up artificial demarcations – and a turf war of sorts had begun.
The city was going crazy.
Spencer pulled her raincoat out of the closet and turned off the television. A few quick steps down the hall, and she was at the front door to the apartment complex. Although she had begun to hate the rain, she was grateful to see the sheets of water falling outside. It might keep the crazies at bay.
Ashley stamped her feet, hoping to dislodge most of the water before she entered the guard booth. As the weeks had progressed, there was increased tolerance for the additional staffing. Of course, news about what was happening outside the zoo walls helped the regulars accept her presence. The more, the merrier these days.
She signed in, and checked the incident board. Nothing. There were no reported problems by any of the Keepers – not even a report of littering. It was as if the zoo was in some sort of sacred space, and was protected.
Ashley leaned back and prepared herself for a boring night. Strangely enough, it wasn't because she couldn't get the picture of that tanned body or those blue eyes out of her head…