As they approached the gates to the zoo, Esther chattered.
“I had a poster of a tiger on the wall of my first apartment, did I ever tell you that? I wanted to live in New York. I wanted to be an actress. For the stage. I could’ve been a backup singer, too. Or a private detective.”
Two weeks back, she’d seen a picture of Violet on the zoo’s website. The oldest cheetah in all of the United States. Since discovering Violet, Esther thought about her constantly. She even found herself doodling the big cat on the back of the church bulletins.
“Will you shut your trap?” Chuck asked. Esther fought back tears. In their thirty years of marriage, she’d never gotten used to Chuck’s cruelty. She wiped her eyes, forged ahead, and asked the man in the safari uniform for directions to Violet’s cage.
“Violet left us last week. Heart attack.”
“Oh, Lord.” Esther crossed herself.
“Let’s go,” Chuck said.
“Wait,” the man said. “Have you visited the black-footed cats yet?”
Esther shook her head.
“A terrible man was keeping them as pets over in La Jolla. We just got them last week and we’re shipping them back to South Africa soon so they can return to their homeland. They’re the deadliest cats in all of the cat kingdom.”
Esther pictured a wild cat bigger than a tiger, snarling and pawing at them. Chuck groaned and Esther felt a tiny match strike in her gut, like maybe the ghost of Violet was in there, setting fires. She glared at her husband. He mouthed: “Cut it out,” and she glared again.
“Lead the way,” Esther said to the man.
He brought them to a nearby enclosure where two tabby kittens snoozed on a rock.
“Those peanuts?” Chuck snickered. “I could smash them with my hand.”
The man in the safari uniform glared at Chuck. Esther liked him.
“They’ll only grow to three pounds, but I wouldn’t want to tussle with them. They’re fast and catch 60% of their prey, that’s a better average than the tiger. Those peanuts are small but mighty. I know it doesn’t seem possible they’d be so strong. Their strength is deceptive.”
Small but mighty. Esther remembered standing in her backyard as a child singing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” to her cat Jeffrey. The feeling in her chest when she performed in the school plays, like every molecule of her being was composed of power. She caught sight of her white Keds. She’d become as boring as them. And as lonely. She’d traded in passion for Chuck, a reality which was made up of humor-less days of silence. Or insults. She’d married him because her mother told her to. And her mother had been wrong.
A woman approached the cage. She wore red high heels and so much hairspray it looked like she had a blonde snowball attached to the back of her head. Chuck-bait.
“They catch 60% of their prey,” Chuck said to her, nearing the woman, his voice husky. “Isn’t that incredible?”
The woman didn’t say a word. She locked eyes with Esther and in that moment, Esther saw pity and Esther didn’t like it. In fact, she hated it. In fact, she was furious. In fact, she saw Chuck’s body lighting up in flames.
Violet’s ghost kicked up its paws inside of Esther. Violet’s ghost said: “FUCK HIM.”
The man walked away and Chuck followed.
Esther tapped on the glass. She locked eyes with one of the kittens.
“I’ve made a decision, peanuts. I’m going to poison him tonight. And then I’m going to take the million dollars I get from his life insurance policy and move to New York.”
The kitten yawned and this made Esther laugh because soon she would be yawning, too. From her penthouse where she would eat filet mignon every night and watch whatever she wanted on television. She’d audition for a play. Never pretend to care about Truck Hero TV again. She’d put her ironing board in the trash. Flush her wedding ring down the toilet.
“Esther, get over here!”
Chuck’s yell sent heads turning in her direction. Esther smiled like she didn’t care, like she loved this man who didn’t know his hours were numbered, this man who’d tussled with the wrong kitten for the last time.
Bio: Jennifer Dickinson
