Did Not Survive by Ann Littlewood Page B

nose. “Now it’s not just lions and Rick, it’s lions and elephants and Rick and Wallace, all gory and scary. Sometimes the baby is there…I’m trapped in slow motion, and I can’t help them. My cell phone is stuck in my pocket, I can’t remember if it’s 911 or 119, my fingers don’t work…” I trailed off.
    Marcie put on her matter-of-fact therapy voice. “Finding your boss dying brought back Rick’s death.”
    â€œYeah, it fried me more than I expected. I was dealing really well, but now…” I shifted on the sofa to help my stomach compete for room with my other internal organs. Princess put her ears back and stopped purring. “Until this, I was okay with Rick gone forever. Not over it, I can’t imagine being over it, but moving on, thinking about the kid, not wallowing in stuff I can’t change…Lonely, but not whacked out.”
    â€œIt’s been a terrible week.”
    â€œI know Rick and Denny were best friends, and he misses Rick, too. This baby is all that either of us have left of Rick, but Denny keeps telling me how to be pregnant. So does Calvin and my mother and everyone else. It’s throwing me off. I have to trust
myself
. This single-parenting thing is scary enough without people assuming I can’t possibly handle it.” I leaned my head back.
    Marcie’s hand was warm on my shoulder.
    â€œWell, what
do
you want your friends to do to be supportive?” She tilted her head at an “I’m listening” angle.
    â€œDon’t ask me that now. Right now I want everyone to back off.” I drew a breath. “There’s more.”
    â€œWhat?” Denny couldn’t stand being out of the loop and sat himself on a wing chair across from me, hunched forward with his elbows on his thighs.
    I wanted to wait for a private meltdown with Marcie, but once begun, meltdowns are not easily deflected. “People are
on
me to figure out what happened at the barn. Marcie, remember I told you I’m supposed to collect elephant pee every day? The vet is after me to spy while I’m there. Even Calvin thinks I should root around in this, and I don’t want any part of it. Maybe it was a stranger and maybe it wasn’t. I hate suspecting coworkers. Those are my
friends
. It’s creepy.”
    We sat in silence for a few minutes. I stroked Princess, who vibrated with forgiveness. The youngster of Marcie’s three cats, Impossible, used his claws on Denny’s jeans and, after attaining his lap, flopped over on his back bonelessly. Six-Toes slept somewhere out of sight.
    â€œIt’s not just you,” Denny said. “The negative energy is everywhere. First we thought Damrey went berserker, and that made us all wonder if our number’s up next. Some animal or equipment that you trust comes unhinged or your foot slips, and you’re the one on the stretcher. But it was murder. The press is all over the zoo. Crandall is getting creamed, even with the new cubs.”
    â€œI can’t fix it,” I wailed.
    â€œNo,” Marcie said. “Of course you can’t.”
    â€œBut if we never find out who killed Wallace, it’s my fault.”
    â€œThat’s silly,” Marcie said.
    Denny thought a minute and nodded.
    Marcie said, “Don’t
agree
with her! How could it be her fault?”
    â€œI can see it,” Denny said. “You called it wrong at the beginning, thinking Damrey was smashing him. So the cops treated it like an animal attack and didn’t totally work the scene. Now the evidence is trashed. No CSI instant answer.”
    I nodded.
    Marcie frowned. “Don’t be so quick to give up on the police. They’re the experts.”
    Denny swung a foot back and forth, jostling the cat on his lap. “Everything that happens changes what goes forward. Sometimes you have to follow the trail back to understand it and realign