Zero at the Bone by Mary Willis Walker

hand again. “Okay. Okay. Let’s do this in an orderly way. Mr. Samuels, from the American-Statesman, let’s start with you.”
    The bearded reporter shouted above the noise. “We don’t want to be macabre here, sir, and there’s no delicate way to ask this, but our readers will want to know whether the tiger ate some of Mr. Renfro.” The room was silent for about twenty seconds. Katherine felt her stomach turn over very slowly. Blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh.
    The director finally found his words: “Mr. Samuels. You understand that the autopsy report is not finished. I have said that there were multiple lacerations on Mr. Renfro’s body from the attack. It is difficult to determine whether those injuries were inflicted in the initial attack or, um, later on. Next question to Miss—”
    Samuels pushed his way to the front of the crowd and drowned out the director’s voice. “Wait. I haven’t finished my question. Lieutenant Sharb, let me ask you. Were there parts of the body missing? There are rumors flying that the tiger ate considerable portions of him. Is it true?”
    The director looked down at the short policeman, who sighed and stepped forward. “Mr. Samuels,” he said in a low, raspy voice, “it appears that the tiger may have ingested some flesh. Yes.”
    Flesh of my flesh.
    Every hand in the room was up now. The noise level rose and Katherine felt the heat in the room rise with it. She pulled a crumpled Kleenex out of her bag and swiped at her wet brow. Samuels was jumping up and down now yelling, “What body parts? Has the tiger’s excrement been analyzed?”
    McElroy had to shout over the noise. “Okay, Miss James from The Dallas Morning News. Your turn. Go ahead.”
    A shrill female voice rose above the background noise. “This animal has eaten human flesh. Aren’t you afraid that this tiger has become a man-eater? Shouldn’t it be destroyed?”
    The zoo workers in front of Katherine looked at one another and collectively rolled their eyes skyward. The tattooed man narrowed his eyes, stretched his arms out, and tensed his hands into a simulation of tiger paws. Then he pretended to creep up toward the woman who’d asked the question. The group around him had to stifle their laughter.
    Sam McElroy looked at the woman as if she were a heathen to be converted. “Miss James. Tigers are predators with one mission on earth. They are born to hunt and kill. It’s what they were created for. He was just being a tiger. No. We have no intention of destroying him.”
    “But isn’t it true that once a tiger has tasted human flesh, he becomes an incorrigible man-eater? Won’t that make him just too dangerous to have around?” the woman shouted back.
    The director bit off his words. “Tigers are very dangerous. This tiger was born here at the Austin zoo and we have always known he was particularly aggressive and dangerous. He is a real tiger. If we are looking for blame here, Miss James, we need to look to the engineer who determined that the glass in that window was thick enough to withstand a determined five-hundred-pound tiger. We ought to look at the city council members who voted to cut our budget by a fourth this year so that our keepers have to work alone. This is what we should be looking at, not blaming a tiger for doing what he was born to do.”
    Katherine was certain that he was right. She didn’t want the tiger destroyed either. But she wondered how she would feel about seeing him. It reminded her of an incident she hadn’t thought of in years. When she was in high school she’d had a part-time job with a trainer who worked mostly with guard dogs. He had two beautiful young Dobermans he was training. One day a group of boys climbed the fence and tormented the dogs, who attacked and mauled one of the boys almost to death. Before the ambulance had driven away with the injured boy, the trainer had ordered the dogs into a down-stay and, with tears running down his face, had shot