How to Care for a Giraffe

THE LAST INSTALLMENT

The last installment is here. If you were Ina or Karl or Mike, how would you feel now, knowing it is time to tell the world where Jerry is?

Chapter 60

January 2 was one of those winter days when the temperature climbs above fifty degrees, providing a short respite to an always too-long Chicago winter.

In the morning, Karl and Ina set step ladders on each side of Jerry and sponged warm water over his entire body before brushing his fur smooth. 

Mike cleaned the garage. He had turned it into a home, coming and going freely now. Ina’s parents had told him he could stay as long as he wanted. They and Karl’s parents went in on a new rug and bed. Mike slept on the bed in his sleeping bag. They bought a used desk and dresser and found a lamp and clock radio in the attic. Ina’s parents gave him a key to the house and told him to use the first-floor bathroom anytime.

 As they walked to the zoo, they passed the turnoff to the bird sanctuary. Ina and Karl smiled knowingly at each other. Even without leaves on the trees and with a smattering of slushy snow here and there, it looked the same. Mike stared straight ahead. He had more to think about than the days spent collecting food for Jerry. The park had been his home for years.

In the zoo, they walked straight to the administration office. Lucinda du Bois waited at the door. She led them through another door, down a long hallway, and up a flight of narrow stairs. “This building is relatively new,” she said over her shoulder. “It houses all of zoo administration.” On the second floor, she led them back down a hallway to the front of the building. “This second floor includes all the Assistant Directors’ and head staff’s offices and Mr. Charles’s office, of course.” 

At the end of the hall, she turned to them. “Here we are.” She hesitated as if waiting for someone to ask her if she was sure. She then knocked quietly on the large mahogany door and, without waiting for a response, slowly opened it.

Mr. Charles rose from his desk on the other side of the room, at least thirty feet away. Behind him, a large plate glass window revealed the expanse of the zoo plaza, a vista that extended all the way to the park beyond.  The sun had begun to slide behind the apartment buildings that formed the horizon. Its soft, natural light made visible everything around him, as he stood motionless, arm out, silhouetted in the light.  

Ms. du Bois stepped aside to let everyone enter. She mumbled that she would pick them up later for the media event. Everyone turned to watch her go. 

The door clicked shut, and Mr. Charles came out from behind his desk. “Please come in.”  He smiled as he navigated past two large chairs and stopped in front of Karl and Ina, arm still out in front of him. They accepted, in turn, his large fleshy hand. Ina slid her binder under her arm and held it pressed against her body. Its weight, however, made it difficult to shake hands, and she pulled away before Mr. Charles was finished. His eyes settled on the binder and his lips switched, but he didn’t lose a beat. “So, you must be…Karl and…Ina,” he said.

They nodded. “We have something for you,” Ina said. 

Mr. Charles eyed the binder again and forced a smile. He nodded.  “Well, I love anything kids create for the zoo.” He directed them to the large chairs in front of his desk.  Everyone else settled onto the leather couch and chair by the door. 

Karl and Ina sat on the edge of their chairs, instinctively knowing not to lean back lest they disappear into the leathery cushions and spend the rest of the meeting staring up at Mr. Charles. 

Mr. Charles walked around the desk and sat down. He surveyed the room, looking at each person in turn before returning his gaze to Ina and Karl. Pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, he smiled at them. 

Ina set the binder on the desk but pulled it away when Mr. Charles leaned to touch it. She let it rest on the edge, her hands still on it.   Mr. Charles leaned back in his chair.

“We want to first thank you, Mr. Charles,” Ina began. 

He nodded and began to speak but Ina continued.

“We love the zoo. We live close by, and we visit every day on our way to and from school.” Karl nodded in agreement. “We are honored to have won the contest and are excited to travel to Africa.”

With the word Africa, Mr. Charles took a deep breath. His face reddened a bit, but he continued to smile.

Ina looked at Karl.

“We want to give you this,” Karl said, nodding at the binder. Ina still had both hands on it. “It will help you understand why we know so much about giraffes.” 

Mr. Charlies eyed the binder.

“This is Jerry’s story,” Ina said, pushing the binder toward him. Leaving it in the middle of the desk, she pulled her hands away and set them on her lap.

Mr. Charles’s face was expressionless. Ina wondered if he had heard her.

“Yes,” Karl said. “It tells the story of Jerry—the giraffe who disappeared from the—”

“I know,” Mr. Charles said quickly but quietly, still looking at the binder as if it might bite him. 

Ina gave Karl a worried look. “You’ll see it begins with when Jerry was rescued from a farm in New York,” she said softly. 

Mr. Charles nodded. He reached up slowly and opened the binder to the first page and saw the news article about the rescue. He pursed his lips. Ina eyed Karl as Mr. Charles turned the pages, scanning each one before turning to the next. He stopped at the Intake Report, some of the text now yellow-highlighted. His eye twitched.

After a minute or so, without looking up, he said, “So tell me… what’s all here?” He flipped the pages back to the beginning and looked at them.

 Ina and Karl took turns recounting Jerry’s life. Mr. Charles looked back and forth from the binder to them, nodding every once and a while.

Thirty minutes had passed when Ms. du Bois stepped into the office. Mr. Charles, Ina, and Karl looked up. 

“We need a few more minutes.” Mr. Charles looked at Ms. du Bois before returning to the binder. “These things are never supposed to start on time anyway,” he added under his breath to Ina and Karl and winked.

Ms. du Bois stood by the door as Mr. Charles continued to turn pages and Karl and Ina continued to narrate. Every so often he shook his head and breathed heavily in and out of his nose. He rubbed his mouth with his hand and glanced from Karl to Ina as they spoke. 

Finally, on the last page, Ina said, “As you can see, Mr. Charles, Jerry doesn’t belong here. He belongs in Africa, where he was born.”

Mr. Charles took a long and deep breath and seemed to shrink to half his size as he sank back in his chair.  He closed his eyes for a moment and then pulled himself up to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. He closed the binder gently, leaving both hands on top of it. He smiled weakly. “This is amazing,” he said. “It indeed explains how you know so much about giraffes.” He nodded and appeared to be thinking again.

Ina and Karl looked at each.

“You don’t know how many nights I’ve stayed awake wondering what happened to Jerry,” Mr. Charles said softly. “Animals don’t walk out of zoos, as you probably know.” 

“Unless you leave the gates unlocked,” Karl said under his breath. “They’d all walk out then.”

Mr. Charles winced. “And, of course, they never just disappear, especially in a big city and especially when they are giraffes. We thought he was stolen—”

“He was!” Ina retorted.

Mr. Charles winced again and held up his hand. “Stolen from us, I mean. We expected to get a ransom letter or something, but nothing, not a word, a peep, not anything.” He nodded. “We then thought he had gone off and died somewhere.” He shook his head and tapped the binder with his hand. “And now to see…and hear…this….”

“We don’t think the zoo did anything wrong,” Karl said.

Mr. Charles shook his head. “We didn’t,” he retorted before letting out a soft laugh. “Do you think you did anything wrong?”

Ina’s body stiffened. 

“It has been over seven months,” Mr. Charles said, breathing heavily through his nose. And you had him all along? That, to me, seems impossible… and a bit irresponsible.”

Ina’s and Karl’s parents squirmed in their seats behind them. Mike cleared his throat. For a second Ina thought he was going to say something. 

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Ina said tersely. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing, making her afraid to say more.

“And your parents?” Mr. Charles said, looking past Ina and Karl at them.

“They didn’t know,” Karl said quickly. 

Ina let out a shuddery breath and blurted out: “The real question is what others will think, because we know the truth about Jerry. And we were protecting him from you.”

Mr. Charles smirked. “Touché.” He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, as if contemplating his next move. “I’m aware of how this looks,” he said, “…and do not want this to affect the zoo…or you…any more than it has.” 

 “So, you believe us?” Ina asked, knowing Mr. Charles was not suggesting that at all.

Mr. Charles pursed his lips. “Right now, it doesn’t matter what I believe, but if I can do what’s best for Jerry, the zoo, and even you people”—he nodded toward the back of the room before smiling at Karl and Ina— “I’ll do it.” He paused. “I do have some questions I need answered before I’m ready to consider your request.” He looked at the binder. “I need to see if there’s more to the story than this. There usually is, you know.”

“Jerry needs to go home,” Ina said. 

Mr. Charles was surprised at Ina’s forcefulness. He bit his lower lip and exhaled. “Where is he now?”

Ina started to say something but heard Mike move in his chair. “He’s safe,” Mike said.

Mr. Charles eyed Mike before returning his gaze to Ina and Karl. “You know there are laws—” 

“—against knowingly possessing poached animals,” Karl’s mom—Ms. Pechonsky—said. “Our lawyer filled us in on all of the laws and who probably broke them in this case.” Everyone around the couch nodded in agreement. “We can let our lawyers sort all of this out. In the meantime, I’m sure the media would like to know the latest developments in this saga.” 

Mr. Charles took a deep breath and frowned. 

“Jerry was stolen from his natural habitat,” Ina said softly. “We don’t think you had anything to do with that, but—” 

Mr. Charles help up his hand. “If,” he began, “…if Jerry was stolen from Africa, like you say, and I don’t believe that yet, but if he was, we are obligated to do what’s best for him. I’m not going to point fingers. I only want the truth…like you say.”

 “He wants to go back,” Ina said. “He’s ready.”

Mr. Charles’s eyes narrowed. “Right now, I want to believe you, and I want this to end well for everyone.” He looked past Ina and Karl at their parents and Mike before returning his gaze to them. “Can you promise me one thing?” 

“It depends,” Ina said. 

“Until we check all of this out, can you not say anything to anyone else?” He looked at his watch. “Beginning with people at the media event that began thirty minutes ago.” He looked at Ms. du Bois. “I know that that’s what Lucinda is thinking about right now?”

Ms. du Bois nodded and forced a smiled. 

“How much time will it take to check everything out?” Karl asked.

“Give me a week,” Mr. Charles said. “Let’s see where we are then.”

The three of them stood.

Mr. Charles came around his desk and held his hand out to Karl. He took it. “Karl, is it?” 

“Yes,” Karl said firmly. 

“Germanic name that means free man, strong man,” Mr. Charles smiled.

Karl smiled back.

Mr. Charles looked at Ina. “And Ina, maybe Scottish or Welch, meaning leader…”

“I know,” said Ina, without batting an eye.

Mr. Charles skipped the media event, and they didn’t see him again until he took the stage at the Award’s Banquet the next evening. The room was filled with Zoo Trustees and donors. The table in front was reserved for Ina, Karl, and their parents. They added another seat for Mike. 

Mr. Charles looked across the hall, like was he counting everyone, before settling his gaze on Ina and Karl. He smiled and looked across the room.

“He probably knows everyone here,” Karl whispered to Ina. 

Before Ina could respond, Mr. Charles leaned toward the microphone. “Good evening…, and welcome to Lincoln Park Zoo’s 43rd Annual Winter Fest. This is the fourth year that we end the Fest with this opportunity to get together and celebrate the past year’s accomplishments. This year we have the added pleasure of announcing the winners of our first annual Zookeeper’s Essay Contest.” 

 “I always enjoy these types of things,” he continued, “honoring people, recognizing the work of others—but usually it’s a matter of formalities. We need to get the particulars right in honor of the awardees. Name, award, special quality that makes the person worthy. Tonight, however, it’s a little different.” Mr. Charles paused and looked at Ina and Karl. 

“As you can see, Karl Pechonsky and Ina Pecora, the Zookeeper’s Essay Contest winners, are adolescents, twelve years old, to be exact.” Everyone at their table nodded, and Mr. Charles smiled and nodded back. “Yes, twelve. That alone is worth noting. It suggests the Earth is in good hands when two kids—young adults—show so much compassion and brilliance. 

“If that were all that was worth noting, it would be enough. However, with these two, there’s more, much, much, much more. From what I learned only a short while ago, and something I can see clearly in rereading their essay, I know these two are…well, the only term that comes to me is, righteous.” 

Mr. Charles paused for a moment and looked across the room. “Righteous,” he said again and waited a few seconds. “If you are familiar with the word, you know it has two meanings. The first is the dictionary one.” Mr. Charles pulled an index card from his jacket. “Let me read it to you. ‘It is to be morally right or justifiable…to be virtuous.’” He looked up from the card before setting it on the podium.

“They are, however, as much the second definition, the informal one, as they are the first. I don’t need to read this second one to you.” His eyes scanned the room before landing on Ina and Karl. “It’s that they are very good, or excellent, as in ‘that guy is a righteous skateboarder,’ or ‘she is a righteous pianist.’” Laughter rolled across the hall, and Mr. Charles waited for it to die down. “If you want to know what makes them good or excellent young adults, refer back to the first definition.”

The seriousness that Mr. Charles had displayed in his office melted away on stage and was completely dissolved as he finished speaking. He was enjoying the moment. He nodded enthusiastically and stepped from behind the podium to the stage edge. He waved for Ina and Karl to join him. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the first winners of the Zookeeper’s Essay Contest, Ina Pecora and Karl Pechonsky.”  The crowd rose to their feet in unison and the clapping grew louder as they walked across the stage.

Mr. Charles held both arms out clapping as they approached. He patted them on the back, stepped behind them, and waited. Ina and Karl stood at attention, looking out across the sea of people. If only they knew, Ina thought, would they still be clapping? 

Mr. Charles presented each of them with a plaque, surprised them with lifelong memberships to the zoo, and to everyone’s surprise, made them honorary members of the Board of Trustees. Leaning on the podium with his mouth to the side of the microphone as if making an aside, he said, “I don’t know if I have the authority to do that…put them on the Board…but I just did.” He cackled. “If that doesn’t work, maybe what we need is a Youth Board, how about that?” 

 “He’s really having a good time with this,” Ina whispered to Karl.

Karl nodded. “I think he spoke with his lawyers and knows his back is against a wall.”

“And last but not least,” Mr. Charles continued, “let’s not forget the original prize, two tickets to anywhere in the world.” He looked at Ina and Karl. “I already know where these two are going. I won’t say why, but I got a feeling that for them it will be as much for business as pleasure.”

The next day Ms. du Bois called to ask if Karl and Ina could meet with Mr. Charles that afternoon. When they arrived, he asked them to sit on the couch, and Ms. du Bois and he sat in chairs opposite each other and next to the couch, a coffee table between them. Their parents and Mike waited outside.

“It is probably best we skip formalities,” Mr. Charles said, after everyone was settled, “since we all know why we’re here.” He looked from Ina to Karl, took a deep breath, and leaned forward. He placed his hands on his knees. Ms. du Bois stared at the coffee table.

“Well, I gave one speech last night, which I enjoyed immensely.” Mr. Charles smiled. “I guess another one is in order, only shorter, you’ll be glad to know.” 

Karl and Ina shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

“I take seriously any malfeasance on the zoo’s part,” Mr. Charles began. “You know what malfeasance is?” Ina and Karl nodded. “I thought you would.” He cleared his throat. “Malfeasance can be purposeful, but it can also be a byproduct of carelessness or even exuberance gone unchecked or lack of forethought and reflection. The zoo—all zoos worth their weight, really—have protocols and procedures for acquiring and releasing animals. We do, and we try mightily to follow them.” His voice trailed off, and he sniffed and scratched his forehead. “In the case of Jerry, we didn’t do due diligence. We fell short. We didn’t ask the right questions when we should have.”

Mr. Charles was quiet. His lower lip quivered. He looked at Ms. du Bois, smiling weakly. She returned the smile. 

“We made mistakes,” Mr. Charles said. “You two know what those mistakes are. Now we must fix them.”   

He paused and met Ina’s and Karl’s stare. “You are right, Jerry was, based on all of the evidence you provided and on my own discussions with people at Catskills Animal Park—you might know a couple of them, as a matter of fact,” he added off-handedly, “a Linda Mahoney and Norm Deardorff…” He nodded seeing the recognition cross Ina’s and Karl’s faces. “…Jerry was poached.”

Ina smiled and nudged Karl in the side. “Yes,” she said under her breath before inhaling and exhaling deeply. The yes reverberated through her body. Months of stress drained away. Karl bit his lower lip, nodded, and sat back. He hugged Ina’s arm, a huge smile engrained on his face. 

 “When we contacted Catskills, after a bit of going back and forth with them, they realized something was amiss. They probably didn’t know the full extent at first, but someone there knew enough to talk to Linda and Norm. And I guess in a way they were Catskill’s Ina and Karl.” Mr. Charles held up his hand when it appeared Ina might say something.  

 “In Catskill’s case,” he said slowly, “the mistakes were of a different kind. That’s for them and the local authorities to sort out. They, like us, however, were fortunate to have a couple of people not afraid to ask questions.”

Mr. Charles slapped his legs with his hands and leaned toward Karl and Ina. “Jerry’s going home,” he said with finality. “I have already spoken to our Africa contacts. We have people there, as you might know, who are doing good work. They’re actually charged with trying to stop these very things, this poaching, and doing research and advocacy. 

“When I told them about Jerry, it was like the final piece of a puzzle for them. They told us of poachers active in the area, poachers who they believed had stolen a giraffe a while back. They knew exactly what we were talking about.” Mr. Charles paused. “If our people here believe it is safe for him, our people in Africa will re-introduce Jerry to the wild. They believe they know the tower from which he comes, in which case he will go back to his family.”

Ina and Karl looked at each other, their smiles too big to talk. 

Mr. Charles leaned back in his chair. “So, the next step is to make sure this is the best thing for Jerry.”

Two days later, Lucinda and a team of animal specialists in beige shirts and forest green pants and a veterinarian in khaki pants and a sweater pulled into the driveway in an unmarked white van. They parked as close to the door as possible. 

Ina recognized the middle-aged man who appeared to be in charge. He was there the day Jerry came to the zoo. She also recognized the woman. She was one of Jerry’s keepers. The other man was an animal specialist, too. 

Lucinda introduced Ina, Karl, and Mike to the crew. Monica, the animal specialists, smiled at Ina. “You’re the girl who was always hanging on Jerry’s fence. I should have figured you have something to do with this.” 

Chet, the veterinarian, quickly shook everyone’s hand, not taking his eyes off Jerry. “Let’s get a look at him,” he said, moving past Mike. Ron, the other animal specialist, only nodded at them. He was one step behind Chet.

Seeing Chet come toward him, Jerry let out a deep guttural moan and backed away. 

Chet stopped. “Whoa.” He held a hand up. “Easy now.” 

Mike and Ina stepped around Chet and Ron and shushed and soothed Jerry. 

“Watch out,” Ron said, but they ignored him. 

Karl laughed at the idea that Ron thought Jerry might hurt Mike or Ina. 

Ina started up the ladder, and Jerry begin to relax. 

“Yep, I should have known all along.” Monica smiled knowingly at Karl. “Maybe these three should lead the way.” 

Chet and Ron glared at her. 

“You know him best, Monica,” Ron said. “Why don’t you lead?”

Monica frowned and shook her head. “Seriously? It’s obvious who knows him best.”

Ms. du Bois, watching everything from the door, typed quickly on her phone. “Mr. Charles says to listen to these three,” she said, nodding at Ina, Mike, and Karl. She held up her phone to suggest it was a direct order. 

“Okay,” Chet said, looking from Ron to Monica. “This is going to take a while, however.”

 “Ina should always be in Jerry’s eyesight,” Karl said. “That will keep him calm. Mike and I can be on the sides, petting him. He knows our touch and won’t wonder what’s happening beside or behind him.”

“That makes sense,” Ina said. She climbed to the top of the ladder and turned Jerry’s head toward her. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she said over and over. “You’re going home.”

Mike and Karl took up position on each side of him. They began to pat and rub his sides.

Chet and Ron glanced at each other. Monica stepped between them. “Gentleman,” she said. “I think Jerry’s ready.”

Ms. du Bois stepped around them and snapped a picture of Ina, Karl, and Mike at work. “Nothing amazes me anymore,” she said quietly, turning and nodding at her co-workers. 

Chet, Monica, and Ron moved quickly and quietly. Chet climbed the other ladder next to Ina. “Okay? Can I…” he said under his breath, nodding at Jerry. 

Ina nodded.

 Chet shined a light in Jerry’s ears, mouth, eyes, and nose, typing on his iPad after he finished. Jerry, who had been ready to knock him across the room a minute earlier, stood quietly, his eyes not leaving Ina.  

Chet climbed to the top of the ladder and looked at Jerry’s ossicones and the top of his head. Ina gently pulled Jerry’s head down a few inches to make it easier. “Thanks,” he mumbled, as he ran his fingers along Jerry’s skull.

Stepping down a rung, he counted Jerry’s teeth. He looked at Ina and nodded. “He looks goods,” he said, and climbed down the ladder.

Chet checked Jerry heartbeat and felt around his stomach area. All the while, Monica and Ron focused on his fur and body, brushing and looking closely at every inch of his skin. They examined his hooves, pulling them up to check the bottom. “Perfectly trimmed,” she said.

Each of them held an iPad, recording notes, taking pictures, and checking off boxes. Every once and a while they spoke quietly to one another. 

Even as they moved quickly and never stopped, it took them nearly two hours to complete the checkup. By that time, Karl and Mike were exhausted from petting Jerry. Ina, who now was sitting on top of the ladder, cuddling Jerry’s head. Ms. du Bois, who had watched from a chair near the door, stood up and joined her co-workers in a corner to confer. She typed on her phone as Chet spoke, looking up occasionally, and nodding.

Finally, Chet turned to them and said, “It’s amazing how good of shape he’s in.” He looked again at his iPad as if to confirm for himself what he had just said. “I expected to find a deteriorated giraffe, malnourished, weak, lethargic, but Jerry not only looks good in every way he appears to be quite content. Obviously, being cooped up so long hasn’t had the effect it normally would— “

“Like in the zoo?” Karl retorted, staring icily at Chet.

Ina looked at the floor and smiled. She climbed down the ladder and placed a hand on Karl’s back. 

 “You guys have done a great job,” Monica said. “I was Jerry’s keeper, and I can say he looks just as good as the day he walked out of the zoo.”

“And a whole lot better than the day he arrived from Catskills,” Ron added.

Chet nodded knowingly. “You three did an amazing job.”

Ina, Karl, and Mike looked at one another and smiled. 

“There’s no reason Jerry can’t be transported within the next week,” Chet added. He smiled. “Monica and Ron will coordinate everything as far as preparing him. They’ll make the arrangements. You two, and you,” he said, looking at Mike, “better get ready to go.”

 “What?” Mike asked.

 “All three of you should travel with Jerry,” Chet said. “It’s for the best.” 

So, it happened one winter day, nearly eight months after he walked out of the zoo and followed Ina home, Jerry was loaded onto a heated semi-trailer truck especially designed to transport large African animals. Like eight months before, he followed Ina, this time out of the garage, down the driveway and onto the truck. The police roped off the area, and the sidewalk and street were lined with people who had heard Jerry’s story on the radio, television, and social media. Ina recognized the two officers from the night Scott led them to the garage. She caught their eyes, and the female officer winked, as the male office shook his head and smiled.

Ina sat in one of the three specially designed seats that allowed Jerry and her to face each other. Once Jerry and Ina were on board, Mike and Karl took their seats on each side of her. Monica and Ron climbed in and checked Jerry one last time before taking their seats. 

The process was repeated at the airport, as Ina led Jerry onto a cargo plane. 

The first leg of the flight went from Chicago to Newark. From there, they would fly to Frankfurt, Germany, and then to Tanzania. They would not be able to leave the plane until its final landing, nearly thirty-six hours later.

Monica and Denise, another animal specialist, were charged with taking care of Jerry. 

Thomas, their steward, showed everyone around the plane. “We’re well-stocked,” he said, “So feel free to help yourselves or ask me for anything you need.”

“How often do you do this?” Karl asked.

Thomas snickered. “Never. Normally I work regular flights.” He hesitated, and his eyes misted over. “After reading Jerry’s story in the paper, I begged for this assignment.”

In Newark, the plane taxied to a far corner of the airport for refueling. Mike, Ina, and Karl sat quietly. They had not slept much the past few days. Mike had spent the day before at the zoo, where he met privately with Mr. Charles. When he came back to the garage, he only said that Mr. Charles gave him something to think about and that he needed a day or two to process everything before telling them.

“Did he offer you a job?” Ina asked.

Mike snickered. “People don’t just offer homeless people jobs.”

“You’re not homeless,” Karl said matter-of-factly. “And people do offer people jobs when they’re good at something. He offered you a job, didn’t he?”

Mike shook his head. “I can’t really say if he did or didn’t. He just told me he wanted me to talk to a Dr. Norbert Abeid when we get to Tanzania.”

“Did he offer you a job in Africa?” Ina asked. “I want a job in Africa.”

Mike snickered again. “No, I don’t think so. He just said I needed to meet with this Dr. Abeid.”

“Who’s he?” asked Karl.

“He directs the zoo’s research and conservation programs in Tanzania.”

“Oh my gosh, Mike,” Karl said. “This Dr. Abeid guy is going to offer you a job…in Africa.”

Mike shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it.”

Now, on the plane, Ina sat quietly between the two of them. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t thinking of Jerry. 

Mike had begun to put all his belonging into a box after he returned from meeting with Mr. Charles. “Just a habit,” he had said. He looked different than when they had first met. His eyes were brighter, and although he smiled a lot before, his smile was now more natural. If he had a job waiting for him at home or in Africa, that would be great. 

Lost in thoughts, Ina didn’t see Linda come alongside Jerry, pat him, and then stop in front of her. She climbed up the step in front of the seat and smiled. 

Ina saw her feet first, and they both let out high-pitched squeals and grabbed each other around the neck. Mike and Karl, who had seen her coming, joined in after the squeals subsided. Jerry nudged Linda in the back of her head, and she reached up and wrapped an arm around his neck, as she continued to hold onto Ina. 

“You did it,” she whispered in Ina’s ear. “You did it.”

Linda hesitated, staring at the fifth seat, before taking the fourth one.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” Ina said.

“Because I like surprises,” she giggled. “Ms. du Bois made all the arrangements. When she asked if I could go, I said, ‘Duh! Strap me in and point me to Africa.’” 

 “Are we waiting for someone else?” Mike asked, nodding toward the fifth seat. “Any more surprises?”

Linda’s face darkened. “No, not now.” Her eyes teared up. “That was supposed to be Norm’s seat.” 

“Where is he?” Ina asked, knowing immediately, as Linda’s expression changed, the answer to her question.

“He died four days ago, three days after being asked to go with us.”

“Oh my…” Mike said. “I’m so sorry, Linda— “ 

Karl and Ina hugged her from opposite sides.

“I told Ms. du Bois when she invited me that she had to invite Norm, that none of this would have happened without him. She did, and he was so excited.” Linda smiled through her tears. “It was his vindication. He had spent his life at Catskills. He had a love-hate relationship with the place, sort of like me. He loved the animals.”

“He was the first one to know about Jerry,” Ina said. “I wish I could have met him. I wish I could have thanked him.”

“He wanted to do the same with you guys,” Linda said. She pulled a small vial from her coat pocket and stared at it for a moment before looking up. “Eleanor, his wife, came to my house yesterday to give me this.” She held it up. “She said Norm always dreamed of going to Africa and that she wanted to make sure his dream came true.”

The three of them stared at the vial.

“She asked me to sprinkle the ashes under a stand of acacia trees, ideally ones where Jerry and his tower hang out, but any stand will do, she said. ’Norm isn’t a picky person,’” she said. Linda laughed under her breath. “She said, ‘he would love to know that part of him is nourishing the soil that sustains giraffes.’” Linda shook her head. “I’ve thought about it, and I think we all should sprinkle it because we all made this possible.”

 Much of what we remember, much of our memories, are but fragments of our experiences. They are given fullness by our hope for the future, or sometimes by our despair. They are neat and storied, complete and bound. 

The week Ina spent in Africa—the first of many trips she would take over the years—was shaped by everything that came before and by what would come after, so much so that most of what happened there was fading. What it all came down to, however, was…

an open zoo gate; 

a giraffe who seized an opportunity; 

a young girl never doubting what needed to be done;

a friend who understood anguish and acted without question;

a homeless man in search of himself and finding it and more in a girl, a transboy, and a very tall mammal; 

parents willing to play supporting roles in the stories that are their children’s lives; 

a faraway teenager and old man who had faith that others would see what they saw; and

all of those along the way who recognized a wrong and responded. 

So much depends on so much else that memories, as important as they are, never really tell the truth that was.

If you asked Ina what she remembers about Africa, she would say seeing Jerry released onto the savannah was a highlight of her life. He ran toward a tower of giraffes near a stand of acacia trees, turned about half-way there and looked back. Then he took off again. 

She remembers the look on his face when he turned. It was one of wondering. Was he wondering if what he had been through really happened and that he was really home? Was he wondering about the world that opened around him, no fences to hold him in or roofs above his head?

On the second day, Mike was offered a job by Dr. Abeid. He asked him to join the zoo team and help document animal movement and development. 

“It will be a lot of little things at first,” Mike explained that night after spending most of the day at the zoo’s research compound. “Dr. Abeid believes I could move up and take on some projects based on my work with Jerry. He said experience counts more than degrees here, and I appear to have a good start in that area thanks to you two.”

Karl and Ina said it was great news. 

“I need to do this,” Mike said, more to himself than to them. “I can always come home when I’m ready, but right now I need this.”

“Mike, you don’t have to convince us,” Karl said. 

Ina agreed but didn’t say anything. She smiled broadly. “I’m envious. But now I have another reason to come back to Africa—to see Jerry and you.”

Ina remembers thinking of Norm at the oddest moments, like when they rode across the savannah taking photographs of animals, sat down to eat, or brushed her teeth. 

Two days after setting Jerry free, they returned to the grove of acacia trees he was running toward when they last saw him. No giraffes were in sight. Linda, Mike, Karl, and Ina got out of the truck and walked the last fifty meters. 

Linda uncapped the vial. They passed it between them, sprinkling, tossing, and spreading the ashes across the ground, making sure they fell onto giraffe footprints left in the dried mud.

Linda turned the container upside down and let the last of the ashes fall onto her palm. She held her arms out to her side and spun in circles, releasing flakes, fine, nearly invisible, fairy dust, into the air around her head until her hand was empty. She kept spinning, saying she was getting dizzy but laughing. The others watched, smiling.

Ina remembers staring at Linda all week, as they rode across the savannah, sat around the dinner table in the open air at night, took tours of the park station and the zoo’s lab. She would catch glimpses of her and try to hold her in her sights until someone noticed. Then she would look away. Linda caught her a couple of times and winked.

Ina knows Karl was there, but her memories of him are vague. It took her a while to realize why that was. He had always been there in every aspect of her life, before and after. His presence in Africa was not so much memorable as essential, like breathing oxygen. It was natural that he was there. Her life depended on it. 

And strangely, Ina remembers little about Jerry in Africa, the place she worked so hard to return him to. She doesn’t know if she has seen him since, although on three occasions over the years she went looking. When she sees pictures of giraffes, she likes to imagine one of them could be Jerry. Any of them could be. “They’re all Jerrys, really,” she concluded. “Every giraffe I see is Jerry.” 

Jerry slowly walked away from the others before beginning to move quickly, hoping they might not notice. He knew he shouldn’t go off by himself. But this one time it felt necessary. He would never do it again. 

He looked back. No one was watching. He galloped across the savannah. He knew where their camp was.  

Ina, Linda, and Karl were packed, ready to leave. They had said good-bye to Mike the night before. He was moving from the camp to the main compound at the edge of the park. They made promises to FaceTime as soon as Mike had a computer. 

They quietly climbed into the back of truck and sat on their backpacks, ready for the ninety-minute ride to the airport and the nearly thirty-hour flight home. As they pulled away, they settled into their own thoughts. 

Looking out across the savannah, Ina was the first to see him. She wasn’t sure if it was a mirage or him. Off in the distance, running toward the truck was a giraffe. It had seen them and was angling their way. 

Ina pointed. “Look!”

“Oh my gosh,” Linda said. “Is it?”

“It has to be!” Karl said. “Who else would charge a truck?”

Ina wasn’t looking anymore. She was digging in her backpack. 

“What are you doing?” Karl asked.

Without answering, she pulled what she was looking for from the pack and held it out, shaking it open. She began to blow air into one end.

“Let me do that,” Linda said. “You wave, so he sees you.”

Ina rolled up on her knees and nearly toppled over as the truck bounced on the rocky road. 

Jerry was in a full out gallop now, but the angle at which he was coming, and the speed of the truck were too much for him to catch up. 

Karl banged on the back window and yelled, “Slow down,” and the truck slowed. Jerry began to close the gap. He was within one hundred meters, then fifty, and still coming.

“Here,” Linda said. Ina took the floaty and pulled it over her head so that its head was just below her chin. It was tighter and smaller than she remembered. She slid to the back of the truck. Jerry was within twenty meters, then ten. 

Ina rose onto her knees, grabbed the truck gate with one hand, and straightened the giraffe floatie’s head with the other. Slowly but surely, she raised both of her hands in the air, waved, and yelled, “Jerry, I love you.”  

Behind her, Linda and Karl did the same. Ina began to laugh and continued to waive as Jerry came up alongside the truck.  She reached out, leaning over the side, and touched him. She held her hand there, on his warm, smooth fur, and felt his heart beating. 

Then he stopped.  His head bobbed up and down and his front hooves kicked at the dirt. 

The truck drove on, picking up speed again. Karl and Linda giggled and waved and then settled onto their packs. Ina didn’t move. She continued to wave. Jerry didn’t move either. He watched the little girl sitting on a giraffe as she melted into the morning savannah mist.