Echo

shoulder because he feels he wasn’t wanted. He knows differently, now. But he’ll always be that ten year old boy who was dumped with a stranger because his mother didn’t want him anymore, a mother who betrayed him with a lie for ten years. We’ve not heard from her since.” Smiling gently, the captain looked deeply into her eyes.
    “Can I dare to ask you to cut him some slack and let the boys work it out themselves? I promise I will guide him as much as I can without interfering.” Nodding, Abby stood up, extending her hands to clasp both of his.
    “I understand, Captain Cobby. I truly do. Scotty’s upbringing was not that different from Kane’s. Maybe if they each knew that, things would be easier for them. I’ll leave the matter with you, after I have a talk with Scotty. Thank you for your time.” With that, she released his hands, smiling as he tipped his glass to her in agreement. Before leaving, Abby filled in a few details of Scotty’s loveless relationship with his father and their parents’ subsequent divorce. Comfortable with their understanding, Abby allowed the captain to give her a hand across the plank to the dock. With a grateful smile and a wave, she walked back to the house, the moon guiding her path. She marveled at how everyone seemed to have a story of strife and pain. She wasn’t the only one. Feeling refreshed, she began to look forward to Jose’s return with Mama Diaz and the girls.
    That night, Abby’s restlessness fought with her desire to sleep. She opened her eyes, noticing it was past midnight. The moon made her uneasy, a quiet crescent gazing into her bedroom window like a peeping Tom hoping to catch her unaware. The shadows of the palm trees, backlit and morphing the yard into an eerie vista of lurking creatures unnerved her. Why couldn’t she settle down? Her glance lingered on Jose’s empty spot in the bed. She leaned over, breathing in the familiar musky smell of his fur, finding it reassuring. Rolling back to her side of the bed, she wrapped her hands around the cool cotton sheet, drawing it under her chin as she scrunched herself into a fetal position, her mind flashing a kaleidoscope of memories, hoping to latch on to a soothing one that would lull her to sleep. Feeling her budding wings cramp underneath her, she gave up.
    Rising, she shambled over to the windows, her sleeplessness leaving her feeling drugged and lethargic. Rubbing her temples and shaking out her wings, she flexed her tail. Perhaps her sleeplessness had something to do with her mind’s unconscious attempt to avoid reliving the reoccurring nightmare she’d been having for several weeks now. The memory of the nightmare sent shivers down her evolving backside, causing her tail to stir reflexively.
    Without warning, she found herself viewing her nightmare as she stood at the window fully awake. She observed herself standing in a deserted parking lot in front of an iron grill, bent and misshapen, the stanchions under which millions of children and adults passed in their quest to discover where the famous The Bronx Zoo housed their favorite wild creature, no longer supporting its proud sign. She scanned the soundless trees, denuded of life. They appeared as if they had been flattened by a giant fist, pummeling them from the gray and wintry sky. She looked off to the blank horizon, the most famous skyline in the world gone. Devastation. She felt the bitter cold seep through her golden fur, flakes of dirty brown snow slowly, soundlessly, covering her thick golden hair, even as she somehow knew it was the middle of summer.
    She turned back to the ruined zoo, an irresistible compulsion. Without warning, she discovered herself floating over the crumbling exhibits on the zoo’s decimated grounds. Formerly home to the many innocent creatures that found themselves captive to man’s misguided attempt to shape, control and destroy the lives of creatures he so hubrisly thought belonged to him. The vacant exhibits all contained ominous piles of bleached bone ash. All that remained of some of the most exquisite, bio-diverse and marvelous creations ever granted the rights to this planet by their maker. And again … brutally and ignobly destroyed by man.
    She could feel glacial tears, freezing on her cheeks as her emotions oddly remained anesthetized. Finding herself descending to an exhibit, she read the signage proclaiming it to be the home of the magnificent Western Lowland Gorilla. The bitter irony was not