Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Also, try not to get in anyone’s way. Remember, a hidden cleaner is the best cleaner,” Marcie repeats, her usual mantra. We all mumble the words back in unison, like a group of bored school kids who have heard the lecture a thousand times. With a dismissive wave, she sends us off to do our glamorous duty—cleaning bird poop, but discreetly, of course.
As soon as we break formation, Perry strides past, lobby broom and dustpan swung over his shoulders like some kind of avian sanitation cowboy. “I can’t take another day of cleaning parrot shit,” he groans, shooting a wink at Heidi, who blushes faintly and pretends not to notice.
“I’m right there with him,” I say, more to myself than anyone else. The monotony is wearing me down. Sure, I love the birds, but cleaning up after them day in and day out without any sign of advancement? It’s starting to feel like a cruel joke. I know I’m more qualified than whoever they brought in to fill the bird trainer position. I’ve paid my dues, worked harder than anyone, and yet here I am, scrubbing cages.
As if on cue, the new hire walks in, and my stomach drops.
Speak of the devil.
“Name’s Heath Hone, new bird trainer,” the new hire says with a smug smile, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses and tugging at the sleeves of his tweed jacket. A tweed jacket? At the Saint Pierce Zoo. In the middle of Summer? In ninety-degree heat. I bite back a snort, but seriously, who wears tweed to a zoo job?
He looks like he belongs in a lecture hall, not among the exotic birds here at the zoo. I can practically feel my blood pressure rising just looking at him. He oozes pretension, like he thinks he’s too good for this place already.
Heidi leans in and whispers, “Who wears tweed to work with birds?”
“Someone who clearly hasn’t met the humidity yet,” I mutter under my breath, crossing my arms over my chest. Heath flashes a too-wide grin, oblivious to the side-eye he’s getting from the rest of us.
“Pleasure to meet you all. I’ve got a few fresh ideas on how to improve the bird training program here. Just wait until you see what I’ve got planned for the shows,” he says, puffing out his chest.
Oh, give me a break. I can’t believe this is the guy who got the job I’ve been busting my ass for. Fresh ideas? Please. He probably learned everything out of a textbook. Does he even know the difference between a True Parrot and a regular parrot?
Perry catches my eye and raises an eyebrow. He can sense my irritation bubbling beneath the surface. I grit my teeth and force a smile, determined not to let Heath Hone and his tweed-jacket arrogance get under my skin.
“Welcome, Heath. We’re excited to see what you bring to the team,” I lie through my teeth, trying to keep things professional, even though all I want to do is throw him into a cage with the loudest, most obnoxious macaws and see how well his fresh ideas hold up.
This is just another roadblock, I tell myself. I’ve worked too hard to let some tweed-clad know-it-all stand in my way. My time will come.
Chapter 3
Briar
I grab a broom, ready to sweep out a few of the cockatoo’s cages before the park fills up with its usual swarm of visitors. The air smells faintly of eucalyptus and fresh hay, mingling with the familiar scent of the aviary. From my spot in the back, I have a perfect view of the stage where today’s bird show is about to start, the very show I’d give anything to be a trainer for.
Jenny, one of the lead trainers, steps confidently onto the stage as the morning sun filters through the canopy, casting a warm glow over the space. Her posture is relaxed, and the crowd immediately perks up at the sight of her. I’ve always admired Jenny. She’s skilled, patient, and knows how to keep the audience engaged with every flip of a wing or screech from the birds. I can’t help but imagine myself in her place, commanding the stage, sharing my passion for birds with hundreds of wide-eyed onlookers.
Then, Jenny introduces the new trainer joining her team—Heath. The crowd claps politely, but I know the truth—they’re here for the birds, not the staff. I stifle a sigh and lean on my broom, watching as Jenny effortlessly transitions into the real stars of the show.
My eyes light up as she brings out Chester, the Yellow-naped Amazon, who’s as mischievous as ever. I can already tell he’s up to something. As soon as Jenny tries to settle everyone down, Chester is making a game of it, squawking loudly and darting between the other birds, pretending to cause chaos, but it’s all part of the act. His green feathers flutter wildly as he jumps from perch to perch, riling up the other birds, who start chattering and flapping their wings in response. The audience erupts in laughter, and I can’t help but chuckle along with them.