Chapter Text
The morning sun is just beginning to peek through Shelby’s blinds when her alarm begins to blare. Its abrasive screech proves useless, though- she’s been awake for half an hour, her heart beating out of her chest and a sheen of sweat forming over her entire body.
She throws her comforter off of her warming body and swings her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for her phone to silence the alarm.
She goes about the rest of her morning in a restless trance, waltzing around her shitty studio apartment and readying herself for the day. She’s nervous- more nervous than she should be and she doesn’t know why. She deserved to be chosen for this internship and she knows she’ll be good at it.
Shelby had received the call just two weeks prior. A woman’s voice on the other end of the line, her voice sounding so serious and sultry that Shelby would think she’s being recruited for a CIA mission and not a marketing internship at the freakin’ Minnesota Zoo. She had introduced herself as Gretchen Klein, director of Marketing, and offered Shelby an in-person interview.
The interview went well- Shelby had always been something of a people pleaser. She rambled about her love for animals, and it hadn’t felt like lying, but it certainly wasn’t the whole truth. Sure, Shelby liked animals. In the same way that everyone likes animals. She’d never been the type to freak out over a video of a dog doing something cute. And she’d never had a problem with downing a buck, standing over its dead body and relishing in the rare feeling of her father’s approval. Shelby feels a shiver run down her spine at the thought.
She’d been offered the position at the end of the interview and immediately introduced to the intern that had already been hired- Leah. She was nice if not a bit awkward, and she’d just graduated college like Shelby had. They exchanged pleasantries and swapped phone numbers under Gretchen’s suggestion.
“You will most likely find yourselves leaning on each other a lot,” she had said almost ominously, and it made Leah narrow her eyes in confusion. “Although only one of you will be chosen at the end of the summer for the full-time position, consider yourselves partners for the time being.”
Shelby’s apartment is only a 15-minute drive from the zoo, and the traffic is relatively merciful, mostly thanks to how early Shelby is required to be there. She takes a note of how many cars are already parked in the staff parking lot when she arrives, and suddenly feels guilty for thinking 6:30 was too early.
She makes the short walk from her car to the staff entrance and tries the heavy, metal door. Locked. Shit. Her face instantly warms as she scans the surrounding area for another entrance. Why would Gretchen not have given her a damn key?
Just as Shelby is beginning to concede and make the long walk to the general entrance, the door opens from the inside. An olive-skinned girl smiles warmly, her body half leaning out the door.
“This is the staff entrance,” she says, halfheartedly gesturing to the aforementioned word painted on the door. “The general entrance is over that way. And if you parked over here you might wanna move your car, the parking lot monitors don’t mess aro-”
“I work here,” Shelby interrupts.
The girl’s eyebrows furrow. “Oh?” she says, or asks, rather. She takes another step outside, resting the door on her back to keep it propped open and ushering Shelby inside. “Sorry, here come in. They didn’t give you a key?”
Shelby smiles and walks past the girl, the oppressive air conditioning stinging her still-burning cheeks. “Yeah, I guess they forgot. Or maybe I don’t get one,” Shelby says. “Do interns get keys?”
“Where are you from?” the girl asks bluntly, in the same manner a small child might, like she couldn’t help herself.
Shelby laughs. “I’m from Texas.”
“Oh, that’s super cool,” the girl says genuinely as they walk down the concrete corridor. “There’s a girl that works here from Texas, too. Her name’s Dot. And I’m Martha by the way,” she says, swinging around to shake Shelby’s hand.
“Shelby,” Shelby says, taking Martha’s hand.
They walk for another 30 seconds or so until they finally reach another set of doors, and when they go through them, it’s like the place comes to life. The room they enter is massive, with tables dotting the open space randomly and people excitedly rushing around.
“The first day of the season is always pretty hectic,” Martha explains, probably having noticed Shelby’s awe. “What kind of intern are you? I can take you where you need to go.”
“Marketing,” Shelby replies. “I’m supposed to report to Gretchen Klein.”
Martha nods. “She’s in the east wing. That’s where all the hooty-tooty management people are.”
Shelby follows Martha again, through a different set of metal doors and down another creepy and slightly stinky concrete corridor. They approach a door labeled ADMIN and that’s where Martha stops. “If you go in there, her office is directly to your right. And I guess this is probably where your office will be, too.”
“Thank you, Martha,” Shelby says. “I really appreciate it. I hope everyone here is as nice as you.”
Martha smiles warmly. “If you ever need anything, I’m in small mammals. So if you ever wanna pet a meerkat or something, I’m your girl.”
And with another small wave and a smile, Martha hurries off down the corridor, disappearing past a bend and Shelby is alone again. She takes a deep breath before pushing open the heavy metal doors, finding herself in a dimly lit office. She remembers Martha’s directions and turns to her right, and low and behold she finds a glass door with GRETCHEN KLEIN painted in black.
Leah is sitting in one of the chairs opposite the desk, and Gretchen is nowhere to be seen. Shelby enters the room hesitantly, sinking into the chair beside Leah.
“Gretchen ran to the copy room to get some paperwork she forgot to print,” Leah says, picking at her cuticles.
“And I thought I was early,” Shelby jokes.
“Yeah, I’m not trying to, like, one-up you or anything, I just get incredibly anxious about being on time to things,” Leah deadpans, and Shelby isn’t quite sure whether she’s supposed to laugh or not. She elects not to, and the room falls into an uncomfortable silence.
Gretchen enters shortly after, handing both interns a stack of papers, still warm from the printer. “These are your onboarding agreements, you can read through them, or not. But you need to sign the bottoms of the last three pages.”
“What do they say?” Leah asks, flipping through the stack with her thumb. “Like, what’s the gist of it?”
“Mostly just liability waivers and things of that nature. If you get bit by a tiger, you won’t sue, etcetera,” Gretchen says impatiently. She leans down under her desk and pulls out two yellow polo shirts. “Seeing as you two won’t work directly with guests, you don’t have to wear a uniform. But if you do anything on camera, you will need to wear these, so I suggest you keep one in your desk.”
Shelby reaches for the shirt and grimaces at the scratchy, thick material. She’s grateful she won’t have to wear it too often. “There’s no dress code, but I suggest you wear comfortable clothing. You will be required to traverse the park quite often.”
Gretchen runs through a few more points, gives them both a keycard and shows them to their “office”. It isn’t so much an office as it is a closet, with Leah and Shelby’s desks facing each other, the dark wood of both desks touching in the middle. “It’s a bit of a tight squeeze, but you won’t be spending much time in here, anyway.”
“Where, um, will we be spendin’ most of our time?” Shelby asks, setting her shirt and paperwork down on the desk she supposes will be hers.
Gretchen shrugs. “Everywhere. Your job is to document everything that happens at this entire facility.”
“I’m afraid of birds,” Leah says abruptly. “I don’t wanna do anything in the aviary.”
“That’s- that’s fine. Shelby, I’m sure, will be more than happy to pick up your slack,” Gretchen says through gritted teeth.
“Definitely,” Shelby says, trying to break the tension. “I love birds.”
“Great,” Gretchen says with a tight lipped smile. “I’ve already posted your assignments for the day on the whiteboard outside my office. If you need any help, I’ll be around, but I encourage you to look at each other as resources, as well.”
The two girls approach the whiteboard together, eager to find out how they’ll be spending their first day. Shelby laughs through her nose when she sees that Leah’s first assignment is to take photos of guests inside the aviary.
“I guess we’ll be switchin’,” Shelby says, suddenly understanding why Leah had so abruptly disclosed her fear of birds.
“Yeah, I saw the board when I got here this morning and have basically been pissing my pants ever since,” Leah quipped, tugging anxiously at the collar of her shirt.
Shelby’s task for the morning is to write copy for the zoo’s website, and she is more than happy to be relieved of it. She recalls Leah mentioning that she minored in English in college, so it’s probably a task better suited for her, anyway.
Shelby hangs her bag off the back of her desk chair, takes a camera from the equipment locker, and sets off for the aviary. It’s only nearing 8 when she makes it outside, but the summer sun is already hot on her skin. That had been surprising to her when she first arrived in Minnesota- how hot it was. It had nothing on a Texas summer, but she was still disappointed to find that Minnesota summers weren’t quite as balmy as she’d anticipated.
She follows the wooden guideposts to the aviary and heads in, disappointed to find no guests inside yet. She decides to photograph the birds while she waits, a certain tropical bird of some sort catching her attention immediately. It’s mostly white, its feathers puffing up humorously at the top of its head.
“Leucopsar rothschildi,” a voice says from behind her. Shelby whips around and comes face to face with a curly-haired girl in a burgundy polo. “Or a Bali Mynah. It’s a tropical bird- from Bali. Obviously.”
“It’s beautiful,” Shelby says, turning her attention back to the bird. “And he definitely knows it. He saw the camera and flew straight over.”
“She,” the girl corrects, firmly but not unkindly. “Not that you would know that, though. Well, it’s not that you wouldn’t. Um, there’s no way to tell. Males and females look exactly alike. I just happen to know that one is a girl.”
“She’s beautiful,” Shelby says with a laugh. “I’m mostly supposed to be takin’ pictures of the guests, but I guess the aviary isn’t really the place to be at 8 in the mornin’.”
“The aviary is probably the least visited attraction in the zoo,” the girl says with a twinge of sadness. “The general public’s feelings about birds typically range from disinterest to outright distaste. Do you work here?”
“Yeah, it’s my first day. I’m the new marketing intern. Well, one of them. I’m Shelby,” Shelby says.
“I’m Nora,” the girl says. “I work in the aviary. Hence the red shirt.”
Shelby leans backwards against a cement pillar. “You always been a big bird fan?”
“Yes,” Nora says simply.
“What’s that one?” Shelby asks, pointing to a small black bird with bright blue eyes.
“That’s a Crested Oropendola,” Nora answers. “Native to South America.”
“Hmm,” Shelby considers, before pointing at a bulbous, gray bird. “That one?”
“That’s a common pigeon,” Nora says, with a hint of a smile. “They sneak in here sometimes.”
Shelby snorts just as a group of small children in matching t-shirts walk inside. Shelby smiles and remembers similar field trips she’d taken as a kid. The kids all ooh and awe as they walk through the aviary, and she watches as Nora’s face lights up as she introduces each species of bird to the kids.
Shelby snaps what has to be close to 100 pictures before deciding she’s gotten enough content. She waves goodbye to Nora as she slips through the door. She flips through the photos as she walks back to her office, suddenly stumbling into someone and almost losing her footing.
She’s silently thanking God that her camera was strapped around her neck as she brushes her hair out of her face.
“Walk much?” the girl says, standing up to her full height.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” Shelby says, gesturing to the camera around her neck. “Although, you were bent over in the middle of a walkin’ path, so I’d say we share equal blame.”
The girl fights back a smirk. “Fair point,” she concedes. “Whatcha got on that camera that’s got you stumbling into strangers?”
“Just some pictures from inside the aviary,” Shelby says. “I’m gonna post em’ on the Zoo social media.”
The girl raises an eyebrow and it’s then that Shelby notices she’s wearing a black Minnesota Zoo polo. Shelby scans the rest of her body and notices a toolbelt strapped around the girl’s waist. She eyes it curiously as the girl speaks again.
“I work in park maintenance,” she says, gesturing towards the ground. “I was fixing a busted sprinkler head before you stepped on me. I’m Dot.”
“From Texas!” Shelby says excitedly, earning a puzzled expression from Dot. “Sorry, I met someone earlier who said there was a girl from Texas who worked here. I’m from Texas, too.”
“Oh shit,” Dot says. “What brings you all the way up here?”
Shelby swallows, hates how such an innocent question has suddenly made her blood run cold.
“Just wanted a change of scenery,” she lies. “You?”
“My dad passed when I was in high school so I had to move to St. Paul to live with my uncle,” Dot says. Shelby opens her mouth to offer condolences but Dot holds up a hand. “It’s cool. Trust me, I’ve heard all the sympathy shit.”
“Well,” Shelby offers awkwardly. “I’m Shelby, by the way.”
Dot laughs. “Nice to meet you, Shelby. Sorry I dropped the dead dad story on you so soon into our friendship.”
Shelby has to bite back a smile at the word. She hadn’t expected to make a friend so soon. “I gotta get back to my office, but it was real nice meetin’ you.”
When she returns to her office, Leah is gone, presumably working on the next task on her agenda. Shelby hangs up her camera and grabs a granola bar before heading to the big cat exhibit where she’ll be taking pictures of a guided tour for the park’s Facebook.
It’s nearing 10 when she arrives, and she can easily tell that this is the most popular attraction in the park. She shouldn’t be surprised, seeing as it was probably her favorite place in the zoo when she was a kid, too. She stands around and reads the info plaques on the wall while she waits, checking her watch sporadically.
At 10:05 on the dot, a group enters and immediately disperses through the room. “And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what you’ve all been waiting for. Lions, tigers, but not bears- those are in the big mammals exhibit.”
Shelby’s eyes wander to the source of the voice, a thin, raven haired girl wearing a white polo and an earpiece. “Take a moment to bask in the glory of this exhibit, and the AC, and then we’ll head outside to see the cats from a better angle.”
Shelby finds herself immersed in the showmanship of it all. The tour guide is speaking as if she’s giving a tour of the Roman coliseum, and not the big cat exhibit of a low-tier American zoo. The crowd breaks apart as people read different plaques and peek through the glass windows into the enclosures.
Shelby snaps a few photos of the guests and the animals, and is just about to take a surprisingly well composed photo of a cougar when she notices the tour guide striding over to her.
“The brochure pretty clearly states no photography,” the girl says, holding out a hand. “But a tenner can make this all go away.”
Shelby straightens out and reaches into her pocket for her keycard. “No, I- I work in the marketing- I’m-”
The girl cracks a smile. “I’m fucking with you,” she says. “TMZ could walk in here with a fleet of cameras and I wouldn’t give two shits.” The tension leaves Shelby’s body but she still can’t find anything to say. “So, marketing?”
“Yes, yeah,” Shelby says. “I’m a marketing intern. I started today.”
The girl nods and sizes Shelby up, before reaching into Shelby’s pocket herself and pulling out her keycard. “Shelby Goodkind,” the girl says, trying out her name. “That’s a funny last name. Are you good and kind?”
“Try to be,” Shelby says, shoving the card back into her pocket. “And you are?”
“Fatin Jadmani. I lead the tours around here.”
Shelby opens her mouth to reply, but suddenly a chorus of ooh’s and awe’s courses through the crowd of people standing in front of one of the windows. Shelby stands on her tippy toes to try and see what’s causing the stir.
Fatin rolls her eyes and smiles. “Toni’s just making the tigers run past the window. It gets the crowd every time. Quite frankly, it’s literally just a tiger running back and forth. I don’t see the appeal.”
In spite of Fatin’s judgement, Shelby tries to peek up even higher to catch a glimpse of the tiger. A guest graciously moves out of the way right as the tiger runs out of Shelby’s view, and all she can see is the keeper standing inside of the enclosure, holding up what is essentially a gigantic cat toy.
The keeper stands on an elevated platform, holding the toy at her side as the tiger struts away, seemingly having become bored of their little game. When she turns her body towards the window, she immediately locks eyes with Shelby.
She’s beautiful. Clad in a dark green polo shirt and form fitting khaki shorts, her curly brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. That’s about all Shelby can register before the keeper hops down from the platform, out of view.
Shelby swallows. “Does Toni have any more tricks up her sleeve or do you think I’ve got enough photos?”
Fatin shrugs. “The cats are usually pretty boring in the morning. Not even Toni can get them to do anything besides be big and dumb.”
Shelby laughs at that. “Alright, then I guess I’ll be leavin’. Nice to meet you, Fatin.”
“And you, Shelby Good and Kind.”
As Shelby walks back to her office, she again flips through her photos. There are several good ones and she takes mental notes of which images will be posted online, but one photo in particular catches her eye. In a picture she’d taken of a little boy excitedly peeking into the lion enclosure, Shelby can just barely make out a girl in a green polo standing in the background. The zookeeper. Toni.
Standing just barely in frame, with her arms crossed and engaging in some kind of conversation with someone who’s most likely standing just out of frame. Shelby moves her finger to zoom in, but thinks better of it. Don’t be a stalker. She hovers her finger over the delete button instead. The picture is blurry, anyway.