The Elephant Whisperer Novels & Stories

I drank a shot of tequila. My thirteenth, if I had not lost count of the last three hours. I tapped my forehead and wiped away the sweat before commanding my senses to allow my claws to appear. I walked towards the lady in front of me, kneeling and clutching her fist to her chest, obviously in pain. I sighed as I watched her eyes form tears but she was holding it in, alright. She looked pitiful. “Natyaramona,” I called her name, pushing her back to her senses while hoping she wouldn't die.

She pressed herself forward on Alec’s shoulders, peering over the fences and into each exhibit like she was hunting for treasure. “Look, Mommy! An elephant!” she gasped, pointing dramatically. Alec looked at me and grinned. “Wanna tell her about elephants or should I?” “Go ahead,” I said, already amused. He adjusted Aspen slightly so she could see better. “Okay, little butterfly, elephants are the largest land animals on Earth. They can weigh over six tons, and they’re really smart—kind of like Uncle Jason when he’s not talking.” Aspen giggled. “Do they have wings?”

Barrus the Indian elephant slipped his trunk between the bars and tried to reach me while the seals taken all the way from Ultima Thule in the frozen North wailed in hair-raising anguish. Petipor, my guardian and employer, walked with my body all the way into the mortuary and onto a pile of fresh corpses. He took out his aulos, the only one he had, and tucked it under my crossed arms because he knew it was my favorite. He bent down to whisper in my ear: “You’re free now, child.” He felt a shiver as he walked out and it must’ve been the premonition of his own end that passed by him because not long after that day, he absent-mindedly walked under a rickety platform that was supposed to carry a

He scowls at my hand that rests on his arm. Tingles work their way up through my fingertips and dance joyfully up my wrist, through my arm, and do a tap dance in my stomach with the horde of butterflies that seem to have taken up permanent residency since meeting him. He shakes my hold loose and I stare at him, trying to determine if he is always so angry. “Yes, he is a were-elephant,” he says. He points to a man climbing a pole and I gape when I realize it’s a monkey in an acrobat suit. It leaps from pole to pole with a girl around my age cheering him on screaming, dad. My eyes bulge and I look at him expectantly.

After dessert, the staff cleared the table. Serena asked the staff where the pond was, and she ambled in that direction. Once she got there, the sight was magnificent and left her speechless. There was a huge artificial waterfall, decorated with pebbles and plants, and fairy lights, and there were tiny bridges on the pond that led to the other side and the fishes... There were tons of them, of different sizes and colors. The sight before her was heart-warming because she always loved such things. She was so in awe of those swimming creatures as she crouched down, dipping her hand in the water and trying to caress the fish who'd scurry away quickly, making her smile.

I straddled his hips without warning, settling my wet folds along the length of him—not taking him inside yet, just gliding, coating him in the slick evidence of my own arousal. He woke fully in an instant, dark eyes snapping open, pupils blown wide. “Elena…” His voice was gravel-rough from hours of moaning my name. “Shh.” I pressed two fingers to his lips. “No words unless I ask for them. Just feel.” He nodded once, obedient even in exhaustion.

Before long, most of them had shuffled over, impatient to get cleaned. The old elephant, the king of the herd, stood by the stream, chewing a head of cabbage and glancing at me from the corner of his eye. He was the one who wanted to stomp every zookeeper to death. I slipped a mangosteen from my pocket and tossed it toward the old elephant. It twitched his trunk, caught it, and swallowed it whole. I waved as if to say, ‘You want a bath?” He hesitated, then went into the pool on his own. He didn’t need my help.

“What do you study, bookworm?” Ethan swallowed hard. “Computer science.” Sienna raised a perfectly arched brow. “Oh, so you’re a genius.” “I—no, not really.” She grinned. “Modest and nerdy. Dangerous combination.” Ethan glanced away, feeling an embarrassing wave of warmth creep up his neck. “Why dangerous?” She leaned in, just slightly, as if sharing a secret. “Because quiet guys are always the ones with the dirtiest minds.” His breath hitched, and Sienna burst into laughter at his reaction. “Relax, bookworm. I’m just messing with you.”

Just the smell of old books, cedar, ink, and two souls refusing to bend. He sat first, legs spread, elbows braced, looking like temptation with a vendetta. I didn’t stand on ceremony. I dropped into his lap, sideways, one arm looping around his shoulders, legs draped over his knee. He blinked once. Slowly. “What is happening?” he asked, like he’d never seen affection weaponized. “We’re decompressing,” I said. “Don’t fight it. Breathe.” He laughed—soft, low, surprised. “You’re bossy when you’re worried.”

I wade out through the receding mire and climb onto the mossy, pitted clearing where I’d once been entombed. “Amos!” My challenge booms through the swamp. The underbrush rustles as small creatures startle at the sudden noise, and the trees whisper warnings amongst themselves. “Show yourself, you coward!” For a moment, nothing happens. But then the constant drone of insects ceases as though somebody simply hit pause on a recording. Nothing moves. Even the feathery leaves of the cypress trees freeze in a tense vigil; the very wind itself is holding its breath.