John van Dijk - THE ZOO

Sam sat on the damp grass, her back against a tree sipping her coffee. Both men were high up on staging scraping the old paint off the second story. She contented herself for a bit watching Per work. His back already stained with sweat in the early heat, his muscles visibly rippled interestingly under his shirt as he moved back and forth. When, as if sensing her presence, he at last looked down and saw her, Sam waved the thermos as a bribe in the air. Per said something to William, who shook his head, and then climbed down the extension ladder.

"You look lovely this morning." He remarked, putting a light kiss on the top of her head as he joined her on the lawn.

"Not getting sleep must agree with me, than." said Sam as she poured from the thermos.

Instantly looking concerned, Per asked, "Not sleeping well? Are there worries?"

Now that’s an understatement, Sam thought grimly. Winding her arms about her bent knees, she looked sidelong at Per. I wish I knew you better, she thought.

As if he’d read her inner most thoughts, Per said softly, "You can trust me, Samantha. If you need someone, I am here."

Not receiving a reply, Per tossed the coffee off in one last gulp and said, "Back to work for me. Will I see you later?"

"Probably. There are only so many places you can go on this island." Sam replied lightly. Don’t be an asshole, she thought, as she watched his face fall somewhat.

"Would you like to come over this evening?" she finished lamely.

"Yes," he said decisively, "see you around eight."

Sam wandered back into the house. She could no longer delay what needed to be done.

By mid-afternoon she was filled with frustration. She had spent a good part of the day trying to reach Jake Gorham. She’d left countless messages both with his secretary and on his voice mail. By three o’clock she knew he had no intention of speaking with her. That’s right, Jake, use me and lose me, she thought disgustingly.

Picking up the phone, Sam hit redial one last time. "Sally," she stated without overture, "tell Jake if he doesn’t return my call by 4:00 he should be sure not to miss the 6:00 news tonight."

She had barely put the phone down when it rang shrilly. Sam counted the rings as she opened a new pack of Marlboros.

One ... two ... three ... four ... now, where did I put my lighter?

five ... six ... oh, here it is.

seven ... eight ... nine ... "Hello?"

"What the fuck kind of a game do you think you’re playing, Sam?" Jake was fuming.

"Why Jake, you seem ........ upset."

"Damn straight I’m upset. Do not - I repeat - do not even think about going to the press."

Sam immediately got serious. "Why is that, Jake?"

"This has top secret clearance and you damn well know it." Jake bite off.

"It’s being handled."

"Jake, there’s a great deal more than just contact going on here," Sam desperately tried to explain. "These communications have been sent for a specific reason."

"What reason would that be, Sam?" queried Jake in a bored voice.

"I’m not sure yet,’ stammered Sam, "but I do know there’s much more to this than we initially thought. I have something interesting to show you." She looked down at the tiny, opaque disc sitting on her desk. "Our investigation is not finished

...... it’s just beginning. Please Jake, you have to help me with this."

"Sam," Jake sounded as if he were speaking through gritted teeth, "I like you, kid, always have even though you’re such a constant pain in the ass. So I’m going to tell you something for your own good. Forget everything you know and everything you think you know. There never was any confirmed contact. There never was a high level meeting. You and I have never had this conversation. It’s all that simple."

After a moment, Sam asked quietly, "What if I go public with this anyway?"

"No one would believe you if you told them" were his last words before the connection was killed.

This time, when the phone rang, Sam jumped. Perhaps Jake has changed his mind, she thought hopefully as she picked up. But it was Martha’s strained voice that came from the other end.

"Can I come over? I’m loosing my people skills here."

Sam laughed, "Martha, you never had any people skills."

By the time Martha arrived, Sam had a tray of frothy drinks ready. "You sounded like you could use one of these," she said as she led the way across the lawn to the gazebo.

"Didn’t we love playing in here when we were little." Martha remembered as she settled onto a bench with her drink. "It was a magical place."

"Still is." replied Sam, looking around her. The gazebo was overrun with bittersweet vines. For years now there had been no one to train them, so they ran randomly in every direction, twisting this way and that. In many places the vines and leaves were so dense that the gazebo’s lattice work was barely distinguishable. It had become the perfect hide-away.

"So," Martha hesitated for a quick sip, "ever heard of Gluskabe?"

Sam looked at her friend keenly, "That’s the name you used the other day, isn’t it?"

"Yup. Nana’s driving me nuts with it." Martha sighed heavily, "Gluskabe is an Abenaki deity - sort of the original watcher over all creation since the very beginning of time. It seems that Nana’s been having him in for tea."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Nana claims she’s been having visits from him. Not only does she say she sees him, but he’s supposedly speaking to her, as well."

"Jesus, Martha. I don’t know what to say." Sam was stunned, Wanda, despite her age, had always seemed so completely coherent.

"I know," replied Martha in a wearied voice, "Thing is, she’s frightening my boys with these Gluskabe stories."

"Why would they be frightened by only a myth?"

"Well, Sam, it would appear that Gluskabe visits Nana for a reason other than just her good company. She says he’s here to explain the end of the world - which is due any day now, according to Nana."

The second Per saw her, he knew she was upset. It wasn’t anything that she actually said, for she remained as reticent as ever. No, he knew by watching her hands. Sam had beautiful hands. Long, tapered fingers meant to play a musical instrument skillfully. Tonight, those hands could not seem to hold still. Per tore his focus from her hands and paid attention to what she was saying.

"Do you ever watch the news casts on TV?"

"Of course," replied Per.

"I can’t believe everything that is happening right now." Sighed Sam.

"The total global situation seems to be getting worse each day."

"What makes you say things are getting worse?" asked Per.

Sam was surprised at that question. "How can you ask that? God, just turn on the TV or pick up a paper! Wars, genocide, so-called ethnic cleansings seem to be happening everywhere. These days, it seems that if people aren’t literally killing each other off they are, at the very least, chronically lying to each other. From the heads of nations on down. When the hell did having morals become a liability?"

Per sat quietly for a moment before replying. "Perhaps, everything is the same it has always been since the very beginning of mankind. The simple difference between 1998 BC and 1998 AD may only be the advent of media coverage."

"What do you mean?"

"I am saying that it is only within the last fifty years or so that the masses have no longer been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world around them.

Television, newspapers, radios, computers ........ people now have instant, multi-media global access. Through you evening TV newscasts, you are now able to get a steady daily diet of war, famine, disease and disasters ..... all streaming into your home by way of a little, square box plugged into the wall.