Feed the Beast

My first real shift at Uncle Jerry's roadside zoo and I was already regretting everything. The uniform was tragic—khaki shorts two sizes too big and a polo that screamed 'I have given up on dignity.'

"You're on feeder duty," Chloe said, barely looking up from her phone. She was a junior, had that effortless cool thing going on, and had somehow roped me into this summer job. "Don't let the bear out. Again."

"Again?"

"Long story. Don't worry, he's basically a dog. A three-hundred-pound dog that could end your entire existence." She handed me a bucket of raw meat. "Good luck, rookie."

The bear—officially named Barnaby but everyone called him Tank—regarded me with what I swear was disappointment. Like he knew I was a freshman who had never been cool a single day in his life. I tossed him a steak through the fence. He caught it mid-air. Honestly? Respected the hustle.

Next was the fox enclosure. A family was taking pictures, their kid pointing and shrieking. I approached with what I hoped was professional confidence. The fox—a rescue named Rusty who'd been found behind a Walmart—stared at me with those chaotic, clever eyes. Then he straight-up grabbed the food bucket from my hand and bolted.

"DUDE," I said, because I'm articulate under pressure.

Chloe appeared, laughing so hard she had to lean against the fence. "That's Rusty. He's a little menace. The customers love it."

"Can I have my bucket back?"

"Eventually. Maybe."

By the time I reached the goldfish pond, I was questioning every life choice that led to this moment. Feeding goldfish should be chill, right? Wrong. Dozens of them, surfacing like tiny, hungry mouths, their orange scales flashing in the afternoon sun. I dumped the fish flakes and they went absolutely feral. A little girl watched, wide-eyed.

"It's like a goldfish mosh pit," she said.

"Honestly? Same."

"You're funny," she said. "You remind me of my brother. He's awkward too."

I felt that in my soul.

The real drama started when a group of guys from my school showed up—Jake, Tyler, and the other jocks who somehow navigated hallways like they owned them. Jake immediately spotted me in my tragic uniform.

"Yo, is that Miller?" Jake called out. "Working at the petting zoo? That's actually sick." He paused. "Wait, are there any bulls here? My little cousin wants to see one."

"No bulls," I said, which was true. "But we've got a goat that headbutts people if they look at him wrong."

"Bet." Jake held up his phone. "Lemme get a video for the snap."

Later, Chloe found me sitting on the edge of the goldfish pond, watching them swarm. "You did good today, rookie. Even Rusty didn't hate you."

"I survived," I said. "That's something."

"Yeah." She sat beside me, and for the first time, she wasn't looking at her phone. "You know, nobody likes their first shift. It gets easier. And maybe you'll stop caring so much about what Jake and his squad think."

I looked at the goldfish, just going for it, living their best, chaotic lives. No overthinking. No existential dread. Just pure, unfiltered goldfish energy.

"You know what?" I said. "I think I'm gonna be okay."