John van Dijk - THE ZOO

"But surely there must be something we can do to stop this!" cried Sam frantically. "You make it sound as if there is no hope at all."

In the stillness, their eyes locked across the expanse of the room.

"There is no hope," He replied curtly. "The end will come."

"How will it happen?" asked Sam

"It will be merciful and swift. I can promise you that," stated Per as he started to turn away from her.

"You bastard," screeched Sam, suddenly lunging forward and beating Per’s back with her fists doubled in rage. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Slowly, Per turned back to face Sam. He stood in front of her silently, not even attempting to fend off her furious blows. His face was still as a mask as he waited calmly for her frenzy to come to an end. Finally, exhausted, Sam fell sobbing to the floor.

It was only then, after she had quieted, that Per answered her question.

"As you said, Samantha. I am one of your Zoo keepers."

Happy was feeling pretty sorry for himself as he stumbled through the darkness and light rain back to Hockamock Head.

Jesus Jumping Up .... Women. Who the hell can figure them? Well, he’d done his best to rescue Sammy, at least he could say that. Funny how she didn’t want to be rescued, though. Happy sure couldn’t figure that one out. He took some satisfaction in knowing that he’d gotten that foreigner a good one. Smack dab in the back of the head. No doubt about it, those 30-30s sure packed some wallop.

By rights, Happy knew he should have been dead. Wonder why he wasn’t?

He made a quick stop to let an overjoyed Spike out of the dilapidated Fairlane and then kept right on going with the hound bounding after him. It being a Saturday night, Happy knew he would find most of the boys at Mink’s place having their weekly game of poker. Being the true loner that he was, Happy had never participated in their game, but tonight he thought he might just drop in on them.

Over on the Minturn side of the Island, at the Dodge’s house, Martha was getting her youngsters settled for the night. Kevin Jr. especially seemed to be going through a difficult time since Nana’s death. Martha sat on the edge of his bed and gently rubbed his back, trying to coax him to sleep.

"Mom," asked Kevin Jr. groggily,"where do you think Nana is right now?"

Her son’s question took her breath away. "I think she’s still with us, Kev - right here in our hearts." How could she explain to an 11 year old something that she herself did not understand?

Kevin Jr. abruptly rolled over onto his back, looking at his mother with a serious expression far beyond his young years. "Know what I think, Mom? I think Nana’s with Gluskabe." Hurriedly, he continued at the doubtful look in his mother’s eyes. "It makes me feel good for Nana to know she’s with him now. I’m glad that Gluskabe took her with him before the Great Purification begins."

"Oh, honey," Alarmed, Martha gathered her son tightly into her arms and spoke softly into his dark hair, "there isn’t going to be a Great Purification. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Nothing like that is going to happen to us, son."

Kevin Jr. pushed himself back in order to look his mother levelly in the eyes. "Isn’t it, Mom?"

When her husband came home from his weekly poker game a short time later, he found Martha wrapped in her old plaid flannel bathrobe sitting alone in the dark on the front steps.

"You’re home sooner than usual." she commented.

"Yep," Kevin heaved a sigh as he sat down beside her, "I got fleeced early tonight."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, both looking up at the stars that were slowly emerging from behind the rain clouds.

"Sure smells fresh after that shower, doesn’t it?" Commented Kevin, taking a deep breath of the sweet night air into his lungs.

Martha didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she said, "Kev, I’ve been thinking.

What if Nana really knew what she was talking about? About the Great Purification coming, I mean. What if the ancient tribal prophesies are real after all? Suppose it’s all true?"

"Christ, Martha, don’t you go getting weird on me now, too."

"I mean it, Kev. Just listen to me for a minute." Martha grabbed her husband’s arm as he started to turn away from her. " For once just shut your big mouth and listen. You’re always such a damn skeptic."

"First rule of skepticism ..... never fool yourself." Her husband managed to get out before he slammed his mouth shut.

Martha’s body shivered spastically in the night’s clammy dampness.

"Come on," Kevin said decidedly, pulling her to her feet, "let’s get you inside.

You’ve had a long day."

Not long after, Martha lay rigidly on her side of the bed listening to the sound of Kevin’s loud, monotonous snoring. It wasn’t the noise that was keeping her awake, though. After sleeping in the same bed as her husband for fifteen years now, his snoring was just so much more background noise, like the constant dripping of the sink faucet in the bathroom down the hall.

No, what was keeping Martha from sleep was that last conversation with her youngest son. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. This is ridiculous, she thought disgustedly.

Martha crawled out of bed and into her robe, tying the sash firmly as she made her way down the stairs to the living room. She fumbled in the darkness on the coffee table for the remote to the television. Slowly, the room acquired that eerie, flickering light the TV gives off and she starting clicking rapidly through the channels. At three in the morning her viewing was somewhat limited.

She skimmed past various fitness ads; whiter teeth ads; jewelry sales on the shopping networks, the Rifleman and an old Cary Grant movie. Finally, she settled on CNN and laid back onto the couch, pulling one of Nana’s crocheted afghans over her.

A man with a well bred British accent and a tie that looked as though it had been drawn by a hyperactive third grader was reading the news as if it were nothing more interesting than a weekly grocery list. It had been a few days since Martha had taken the time to catch the latest news but she found things really hadn’t changed much. Or, she corrected herself, at least they hadn’t improved any.

There were the usual heinous crimes and tragedies that somehow had become an accepted part of every day society. As she listened it occurred to her that much of the news consisted of natural disasters, seemingly on every continent.

Weather patterns were apparently spinning out of control. These days what was considered extreme weather had become the rule rather than the exception. Today, everywhere you looked there were epic floods; droughts; wildfires; killer tornadoes; earthquakes and epidemic diseases. As a matter of fact, Martha realized with a jolt, these catastrophic events were becoming almost common place throughout the planet.

Easy girl, she thought to herself clicking the TV off. She sat for a moment in the complete blackness of the living room before she wearily got up and wandered over to a window to peer up at the night sky.

What if Nana had been right? What if the signs really were all there? What if .....

just what if, she silently asked herself, this really was the beginning of the Great Purification?

By the time Happy arrived the poker game was just breaking up. He burst through the front door causing everyone inside to momentarily freeze midway through whatever it was they had been doing.

"You’re too late, Happy," commented Fed Larson as he pulled on his jacket, "Mink’s already cleaned us all out. Try us again next week." It took him a full minute longer to register the sight of the Winchester Happy was cradling in his arm.