Predator

Y’think? Decker said, “How strong are those pens?”

“Cody’s not going anywhere.” She turned to Vern. “Well, I suppose I’d better have a look. Do you have the rifle?”

“It’s down at the trailer.”

“S’right. It’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure about that, Vignette?” Vern was concerned.

“I’ll be fine.” Without hesitation, she approached the beast, stopping at the wire fencing. She held a bag of raw fish and a spear. To the grizzly, she said, “What’s going on, Cody?”

At the sound of her voice, the animal lumbered over to the fence, dropped to all fours, and groaned. She said, “Grizzlies don’t see well, but their smell and hearing are excellent.”

Decker just kept staring, his heart beating faster than usual. He hoped he wasn’t about to witness something gruesome. Penny’s crime scene was still fresh in his brain.

She said, “What’s the matter, little guy?”

Little guy?

She took a whistle from her pocket and blew it once. Cody’s verbal protests had reduced to whimpering. The animal stood upright and pressed his right paw against the fence. The claws were thick and long and very sharp. She examined the paw carefully, and then fed him a hunk of raw fish impaled on the tip of the spear. “He’ll do anything for salmon.”

She blew the whistle again. This time the left paw was offered for examination. Afterward, he was rewarded with more salmon. “No problem so far.” A third blow of the whistle.

The bear sat on his rump and showed Vignette his right foot. “Oh my. That looks nasty, Cody. I’d be pissed, too, if I were you.”

Decker was five feet behind her. “What’s wrong?”

Vignette gave the bear a chunk of pink flesh on the spear. “He cut his foot pad on something sharp. I’m going to have to treat it before it gets infected.” She took out a small chub of salmon and put a capsule in the dead fish’s mouth. “Okay, guy, let’s see what I can do for you.” She fed Cody the laced flesh—using the spear as his eating implement—and then looked at her watch. Five minutes later, the bear rolled over and started to snore. She threw Vern the keys. “You know the rules. Lock me in. Keep an eye on him. And if I get caught, do NOT open the door under any circumstance.”

“You’re going in there?” Decker was aghast.

“I got about fifteen minutes to work.” Vignette winked at him. “Wish me luck.”

Decker was speechless. Vern unlocked the cage door, and Vignette went inside. She worked swiftly and professionally. First she disinfected the cut, washing it out with a squeeze bottle of salt water. Then she followed with a medicinal salve or ointment. Lastly, she sealed the wound as best she could with liquid bandage material.

Decker was constantly checking his watch. With each passing minute, he became more nervous. Vern said, “He’s startin’ to move, Vignette.”

“I’m almost done. I just want to make sure …” Her words trailed off.

It was Decker who now began to pace. “Please get out of there.”

Vingette got up. “I’m fine. Main thing is he’s fine.”

“No, the main thing is that you get out of there alive and whole.”

She smiled and dusted her pants off. Vern opened the gate and closed it quickly, rapping the solid chain around the gate and securing it with a padlock. As soon as the bear was upright, he teetered over to Vignette and moaned. She offered him more fish, and even though the animal was woozy, he took the bait.

“That’s a good boy,” she cooed. “You feel better?”

The bear grumbled then walked away, limping of course, but it was less marked.

The three of them watched in silence as the bear tried to restore his balance. Every few minutes, he hobbled over to Vignette, who fed him salmon in progressively tinier pieces until she told him, no more. Fifteen minutes later, his nose twitched and he trudged over to his lunch. He started with an appetizer of raspberries on the branch.

“Good job,” Vern told Vignette.

“Just glad he’s better.”

“Wow.” Decker was daunted. “I can see why Mr. Penny was a supporter.”

Vignette’s smile was in full wattage. “Now you understand why I care so much. It’s for Cody and Tiki and all the animals here. They can’t talk, so I talk for them.”

“You seem to be a good interpreter,” Decker said.

Vignette smiled. “How about a tour, now that Cody’s been taken care of.”

“Sure.”

She turned to Vern. “Keep an eye on our fellah. If he becomes agitated again, we’ll do it officially and call in the vet.”

“I’ll do just that, Vignette.”

“This way,” she told Decker. They walked a few moments in silence. “So you really don’t know anything more about Mr. Penny’s will?”

“I told you all I know.”

“I know I seem greedy, but running a nonprofit is like the jungle. Only the strong survive. If you’re timid, you either die of starvation or you’re eaten alive.”

As they continued to stroll, Vignette pointed out the different cages and enclosures, giving Decker a personal story of each animal: how it was obtained, how the environment was maximized for survival, how the diets were individualized, and finally the cost of maintaining the animal. “We barely manage on a shoestring budget. We depend on people like Mr. Penny for support.”

“How much support did he supply?”

“A lot of our operating costs came from his generosity.” She stopped in front of a tiger pen. “Tiki’s in the back of the enclosure, protected in her own cage. It’s going to take a while before she’ll be allowed to roam in the enclosure. We have to make sure that Juno and Bigfoot will accept her.”

“You’ve got a male and a female tiger?”

Vignette nodded.

“How is Tiki doing?”

“All I can tell you is that she’s been eating. That’s good.”

“Have you had a chance to examine her?”

“The vet comes this Friday.”

“So you don’t know if she’s hurt or anything?”

“No.” Vignette turned to Decker. “Why would she be hurt?”