Panic

SATURDAY, AUGUST 6

heather

ANNE HAD DECIDED THAT HEATHER WAS READY TO FEED the tigers. She had shown Heather how to unlock the pen and where to place the bucket of meat. Anne took her time doing it—sometimes, she even wound up and threw a steak, like player hurling a Frisbee, and occasionally one of the tigers would snap it up in midair.

Heather always waited until the tigers were on the other side of the pen or lying underneath the trees, where they liked to spend the sunniest afternoons. She worked as quickly as possible, never taking her eyes off them. The whole time she could practically feel the heat of their breath, the sharp rip of their teeth in her neck.

“Do you think they miss home?”

Heather turned around. Lily. Earlier that morning, Lily had helped Anne wrestle Muppet into a bath, and her legs were spotted with muddy water. But she looked cleaner, healthier, than she had in weeks. From the other side of the barn, they could hear Anne humming as she pulled daffodils from the garden.

“I think they’re pretty happy,” Heather said, although she’d never really thought about it one way or another. She triple-checked that she’d locked the pen, then turned once again to Lily. Lily’s face was puckered, like she was trying to swallow something too big.

“What about you, Bill?” she asked, resting a hand briefly on Lily’s head. “Do you miss home?”

Lily shook her head so hard her braid whipped her in the face. “I want to stay here forever,” she said, and Heather knew that the words had been the too-big thing that was choking her.

Heather had to bend down awkwardly to give Lily a hug. Still, Lily was growing; she was nearly at Heather’s chest. It was just one more thing that had changed while Heather wasn’t paying attention. Like Bishop. Like her friendship with Nat.

“No matter what, we’ll be together. Okay? We’ll be fine.” Heather put her thumb on Lily’s nose, and Lily swatted at her. “Do you believe me?”

Lily nodded, but Heather could tell that she didn’t, not entirely.

It had been three days since Heather had been picked up by the cops, and for now Anne had agreed to let Heather and Lily stay with her. They were sleeping in the “blue room”: wallpaper patterned with blue posies, blue coverlets, ruffled blue curtains. Heather thought it was the most beautiful room she’d ever seen. Earlier that morning, she’d woken up and Lily’s bed had been empty. For a moment, she was seized with panic, until she heard the sound of laughter from outside. When she went to the window, she saw Lily was helping Anne feed the chickens and laughing hysterically as one of them chased her, pecking up feed.

The day before, Krista had arrived in the Taurus, which the cops had returned to her. She refused even to acknowledge Anne, but made a big show of embracing Lily, who stood rigidly, her face squashed against Krista’s sun-freckled chest. Heather had expected her to be angry about the car, and maybe she was, but she was sober, at least, and trying to put on a good show. She reeked of perfume, and she was wearing her work pants and a blue blouse that puckered under her boobs.

She told Heather she was sorry, and she wasn’t partying anymore, and she was going to do a better job of paying attention to Lily. But she recited the words stiffly, like an actress reading lines that bored her.

“So? You gonna come home?” she said.

Heather shook her head. And then she’d seen it: Krista’s face had, for just a minute, transformed.

“You can’t stay here forever,” Krista said in a low voice, so Anne couldn’t hear. “She’ll get sick of you.”

Heather felt something open up deep in her stomach. “Good-bye, Krista,” she said.

“And I won’t let you take my baby, either. Don’t think you’re taking Lily from me.” Krista had reached out and grabbed Heather’s elbow, but seeing Anne move toward them, had quickly released it.

“I’ll be back soon,” Krista said loudly with her plastic smile. The words were like a threat. And Heather had walked around for the rest of the day with that pit in her stomach, even after Anne had approached, unexpectedly, unasked, and given Heather a big hug.

Don’t worry, she’d said. I’m here for you.

Heather wished she could truly believe it.

The tigers had moved across the pen now, toward the meat—lazily at first, as though uninterested. They sprang on it in one quick, fluid motion, jaws opening, teeth gleaming momentarily in the sun. Heather watched them tear into it and felt a little queasy. What had Anne said on her first day of work? She liked taking in broken and damaged things. But Heather couldn’t imagine the tigers needing the help.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. Natalie. They hadn’t spoken since her birthday.

“Heather?” Natalie’s voice sounded distant, as though she were speaking from underwater. “Did you see the newest?”

“Newest what?” Heather asked. Cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder, she shoved open the door to the toolshed and replaced the keys to the tiger pen.

“The betting slips,” Natalie said. “Dodge beat his solo challenge. Spiders.” She paused. “One of us is next.”

Heather’s stomach gave another twist. “Or Ray. Or Harold Lee,” she pointed out.

“But it’ll be our turn soon,” Nat said. She paused. “Have you . . . have you spoken to him?”

Heather knew right away that Nat was talking about Dodge. “Not really,” she said. She hadn’t told Natalie about what Dodge had said: that their deal was off. She suspected that Nat knew as much.

Nat sighed. “Let me know, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Heather said. There was an awkward pause. She remembered how hysterical Nat had been in the bathroom the other night, with her hands scraped nearly raw from scrubbing. She felt a sudden wave of emotion—love for Natalie, grief for all the things that were never said.

“And Heather?” Nat said.

“What’s up?”

Nat’s voice was quiet. “I couldn’t have done this without you. I would never have gotten this far. You know that, right?”

“The game’s almost done,” Heather said, trying to keep her voice light. “Don’t turn melty on me now.”

As soon as she hung up, she saw she’d missed a text. She clicked over to her messages and felt her breath stick in her mouth.

Tomorrow it’s your turn, the message read.