She did not say why. She must have known what was likely to happen.
3
I was allocated bedding and a pillow, which I was to stow neatly in daytime. This seemed silly, since the tent was full of clutter, but I bided my time about mentioning what I thought. We ate a meal with other people then I went to sleep in my mother’s tent, with no idea it would so soon become a crime scene. If I had known, I would have made a drawing of where everything was, especially the position of the python.
Next morning, everyone got up as soon as there was any light. I was still sleepy. Thalia explained that they all had to look after the animals, a task with which I must help them now I was here. She did not ask whether I agreed. I saw what my family had always meant when they said she would want me to be useful to her. I was to be shovelling out fouled straw.
I discovered my job when I was taken to meet the menagerie keeper. Lysias was a thin man with a weird expression and long hair tied into a rat’s tail on top of his head. I saw that he preferred being among the animals to enduring people. He had chosen to be an eccentric character. I respected him for that. I tried to see how he had arranged his hair, thinking I might grow mine long and do it the same, but I could tell he did not like me looking.
My mother left me at the menagerie while she went to rehearsal with some acrobats. Lysias inspected me, sniffing the air, just as the python had done yesterday. He introduced his two assistants, Hesper and Sizon, who were busy throwing raw meat to the animals. They were low-grade, crude men, not minding if they got blood on their tunics.
‘Thalia’s boy,’ said Lysias, meaning I was important.
‘She’s got a weird one there,’ replied Hesper. ‘He does a lot of staring.’ Staring is one of the things people usually notice about me.
Sizon made no comment, only handed me his broom with a gesture that made a statement: he had done the menial tasks until today, but now he was glad it was my turn.
Lysias became extremely stern as he explained that I was never to go into any animal’s pen or cage unless the others had moved out the animal to another cage for safety. None of them ever went into a cage on their own. Once a man called Fronto had been eaten by a panther when he accidentally let himself be trapped with it. Nobody who had heard him screaming or who helped gather up his bloody remains would ever forget. Not that there were many remains, declared Lysias with a cruel laugh. ‘Don’t mention Fronto to Thalia. It’s old history but she still gets weepy. She made us keep that panther for years, out of respect, in case part of Fronto was still inside.’
I asked had she been very fond of Fronto? Hesper chortled no, only being humped by him. I worked out what that meant, so I nodded wisely. Lysias told Hesper to watch it, without specifying what needed to be watched.
The animals they had were: a wild boar (very grumpy), antelopes (who huddled together and kept trembling), a camel, two young cheetahs who had long legs and unpleasant manners, a bull, a kennelful of trained dogs and three ostriches who caused a lot of trouble. ‘Watch out, they peck.’ The best was a half-grown lion called Roar.
They had had a giraffe until last week when it had died. I was sorry to hear that, I commented politely. Hesper sniggered that I hadn’t minded eating a steak off her for dinner last night. I think he was trying to upset me but I agreed it had been tasty and there was no point being put off eating a creature I never even met, so then Hesper looked disappointed.
He and Sizon were disappointed again when they moved the wild boar out of his cage for me to clean up after him. They thought I would refuse to do anything, or that if I tried I would be useless. They were ignorant people. I just went in and got on with sweeping out the poo and stinky old bedding. I knew how to take responsibility for animals. I had Ferret, after all. I had to look after him myself; it was one of Helena’s conditions for me owning him at home.
We had also once had an extremely old dog who was prone to accidents. She belonged to all of us, though mainly Father. Anyone who saw a mess on a mosaic had to run and clean it up at once, to stop Father becoming miserable because he loved that dog and could not bear her becoming so old and helpless. Uncle Lucius Petronius came to gently ‘help her on her way’. I don’t know how he did it, because although I wanted to watch he shut the door.
After that Father buried the dog at our other house on the Janiculan Hill, where my dead grandfather and baby brother are. He didn’t give her a tombstone but he told us if he had, it would have said: Nux, best and happiest of dogs, run with joy through all Elysium, dear friend. We all liked to talk about her jumping up on ghosts. I wondered whether they would squeak with spooky surprise if Nuxie came up behind and sniffed them with a cold nose.
After I got the boar’s cage nice and clean, I asked where to put the sweepings, so Sizon led me to a barrow; I just sensibly picked up the straw on a shovel, loaded the barrow then wheeled it to the midden heap. Straw is light. It was not onerous. I cheered myself along by an incantation of ‘O pigshit, pigshit, pigshit, pigshit!’ which is a famous saying by my grandfather, Geminus. He must have been jolly. My marching song seemed to impress Hesper and Sizon.
The whole job was smelly and dirty. Luckily I was wearing the old tunic Helena had given me to be Ferret’s bed. I had left him asleep in my best tunic instead, which would be nicer for him. He had tried running around all night, exploring, and in the morning he was so dozy he only wanted to stay behind so that is why I left him in the tent. Jason seemed to be a nocturnal creature too, and Thalia snored, so it had been quite noisy in the tent. But when I left in the morning, Jason was asleep and I forgot he might pose a danger.
At the menagerie, I decided I would make scientific notes about the different kind of droppings that the animals deposited. I explained to Hesper and Sizon how this would need to be done, tomorrow when I brought a note tablet for making descriptions and a ruler for measuring the pieces of poo. I have a surveyor’s folding measure that Father once brought home from the auction house, because he thought I would like it. This was correct. I use it all the time. I could tell that Hesper and Sizon failed to see the seriousness of my planned experiment.
At lunchtime my mother came along. They tried to hand me back to her but they had no luck. Announcing that she was glad we were all getting on together so nicely, Thalia went off again, saying she had to have a meeting in her tent with a man called Soterichus, a dealer in exotic animals. The meeting was private. Lysias would have to look after me that afternoon. I was given strict instructions not to go along and interrupt. ‘I suppose you know what “strict instructions” means, Postumus?’
I nodded. ‘Strict’ ones are where it is best to wait a long while before you ignore them, so it will seem better when you pretend that because you are only a little boy, you forgot being told the instructions.
Having diligently mucked out the cages, I found myself at a loose end. This often happens to me. When I am allocated a chore, I carry it out methodically. I never waste time gossiping. What is the point of that? Brooms are not for leaning on. I never have much I want to gossip about anyway. I keep things to myself for future use.
If I can invent a better way to do a task than other people use, which I generally can because I am more scientific, I usually speed up the process, whatever it is. Soon my task is completed, and to a good standard. Then I have to find something else to do.
When Lysias inspected my work he seemed both surprised and impressed. That was what I had expected. ‘Of course it all has to be done again tomorrow, young Postumus.’
‘Of course it does,’ I agreed calmly. ‘Animals poo out their bowels every day, just as you do, Lysias. Unless you have constipation.’