the story


I look at the ring, layered with fresh sawdust. I look at the skylight, at the half-hidden moon.


“I just thought of a story,” I say.


“Is it a made-up story or a true one?” Ruby asks.


“True,” I say. “I hope.”


Ruby leans against the bars. Her eyes hold the pale moon in them, the way a still pond holds stars.


“Once upon a time,” I say, “there was a baby elephant. She was smart and brave, and she needed to go to a place called a zoo.”


“What’s a zoo?” Ruby asks.


“A zoo, Ruby, is a place where humans make amends. A good zoo is a place where humans care for animals and keep them safe.”


“Did the baby elephant get to the zoo?” Ruby asks softly.


I don’t answer right away. “Yes,” I say at last.


“How did she get there?” Ruby asks.


“She had a friend,” I say. “A friend who made a promise.”

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