Counting Paces

I heard once that animals pace when they are stressed. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was a fact- humans pace when they're stressed, why shouldn't animals?

My morning started off as usual. I woke up around 9am, because that's a nice time to wake up on a sunny Saturday. I ate a waffle from our new waffle maker, and brushed my teeth afterwards because Mom made me. Finally, I changed from my pajamas into an oversized T-shirt and gymnastics shorts.

Afterwards, I kicked a soccer ball around in the front yard until Mom came out with my brother on her hip and my younger sister by her side. Jack was dressed in a short-sleeve onesie and his little hat to shield his eyes from the sun. He looked adorable, as always. Samantha was wearing what was "trendy" for her grade during the summer. By that I mean jeans and a shirt she inherited from me. It was too big for her, but because it was "the trend", she had one of the corners twisted up and held with a scrunchie. Her hair was in two messy buns at the top of her head, and her arm was lined with scrunchies almost up to her elbow. I rolled my eyes. What was she thinking? It was August, she would melt in jeans. Whatever, she's full of crazy ideas and somehow she always survives.

A few years ago Mom sold her newest novella, and big whoop, she got half a million dollars for it! Since our life is comfortable- we don't live in a mansion or anything but we certainly don't live in a shack- she didn't quite know what to do with the money. She considered dividing it up between me and Samantha to put into our college accounts, but she decided otherwise when Samantha told her (after rolling her eyes) that she probably wasn't going to college anyway. That was most likely a big old fib, but what did I care? The bottom line is, Mom spent her money elsewhere. She ended up deciding to splurge on season tickets to the zoo, so we can go whenever we want, free of charge. It's pretty sweet, but it costs a fortune. Luckily, Mom had half a million dollars to spend.

That's why we go to the zoo every Saturday, except when we're on vacation and when it's so cold that Samantha's eyes would fill with tears that froze on her cheeks and my nose would drip.

I don't particularly like going to the zoo in August. It's too hot, I get all sweaty and end up wanting to leave before I've even seen half the animals. Samantha usually just follows us around barely looking ahead of her and instead down at her phone. Even though I'm the oldest sister, she acts like she's fifteen instead of ten. If she's not going to look at the animals, why does she even come along?

That's a rhetorical question, obviously. Mom makes us go unless we're sick or already have plans or something. So the tickets are "worth the cost" or something stupid like that. I never asked her to buy the tickets! None of this was up to me at all, but I like seeing the animals anyway so it's not that big of a deal.

Today we have to stop at Gramma's before going to the zoo, because Mom wants to check in on her since she's so old. Mom firmly told both Samantha and I to never repeat that sentence in front of Gramma, but Samantha slipped up once. Luckily, Gramma just laughed and said, "Oh, really?"

When we arrive today, Gramma is cooking chana masala, and dancing around her kitchen as spicy smells float through the air.

"I don't see why we have to check up on her," Samantha whispers to me. "If she's eighty-three and can still dance to Taylor Swift, that qualifies as 'not about to drop dead.'"

"Shut up." I say, and kick her in the leg.

Gramma bustles into the living room, where I'm sitting on the sofa next to Sam. I'm also supposed to be keeping an eye on Jack, who's crawling around on the floor trying to put the loose tassels of Gramma's carpet in his mouth.

"No, no." I snap at my brother and he drops the carpet.

"So." Gramma says as she places steaming bowls of chana masala with rice in front of us. I don't want mine... I finished my breakfast only an hour ago and the day is too warm for hot Indian food.

"Thanks, Gramma." Samantha says.

"You don't have to eat it, but when I was a girl it was rude to have guests and not serve them food. I know it's a hot day, but I couldn't find anything else and the chana masala was done..."

"It's perfect, Gramma." I say as I chew my first bite.

"So." Gramma repeats. "Samantha, my friend has a granddaughter just around your age. My friend, Bet, was saying that Sofia has only recently decided to become an artist when she gets older. Have you got any idea what you want to be when you grow up? Something for me to brag about, eh?"

"No-o-o." Samantha looks uncomfortable. Gramma laughs a bouncy, bubbly laugh. My sister relaxes, and Jack puts the carpet back in his mouth.

"And what about you, Petra?" Gramma asks me as I snap at Jack.

"Oh, me? I want to be a photographer when I get older, I've told you that before."

"You have? I must be going soft in the head!" Gramma crows.

"No, I don't mean-"

"I'm only joking..." Gramma says knowingly. "I was only wondering if it might have changed."

"Nope." I reply with another bite of food and another snap at my brother.

"Well, we better be going." Mom says as she comes in. "Ready, girls?" With one swift movement, she sweeps up Jack and kisses Gramma on the cheek. "Bye Mom."

"Bye, darlings!" Gramma says as we leave. "Have fun at the zoo!"

I know now that I no longer want to be a photographer. As I watch this young leopard- male, as far as I can tell, pace back and forth, I feel stressed as well. The continuous movement, the exact area where he turns, it makes me dizzy. Poor thing- that poor, poor thing.

I want to be an animal right activist. I know it's a change of plans, a big life decision, but I'm only thirteen, right? I could always change my mind... only I know I won't. I won't, because this isn't just a change of life.

It's a change of heart.

I only wish I had decided that this morning to tell Gramma about it. Bet would be jealous.