Freaky Green Eyes by Joyce Carol Oates

terror. Except one of the raccoons bit the stick and nearly pulled it from Chris’s hand. “Hey! Watch it!” Chris scolded. For some reason, this was funny: both brothers laughed. Samantha and I were trying to feed the hare grass, but he was apathetic and shrank from us. Sean spilled some pelletlike dog food into the cages, but none of the creatures ate. The fox cub, which was the size of a full-grown cat, was panting, crouched with his back against the wire enclosure of its cage, staring unblinking at us with tawny eyes. His narrow chest rose and fell rapidly. The owl, too,stared unblinking. We need help. We need you. Save us! I thought of how my mom might react. Again that hot, flamy sensation passed over my brain, a freaky feeling that excited me. Samantha was saying worriedly, “They’re lonely here just by themselves. I wouldn’t want to be in a cage! You should let them out—they could go back home.”
    Sean said, “Sure. When we feel like it.”
    I didn’t want to arouse their distrust. I asked a few questions sort of politely, like I was impressed, and then we went back up on the deck, where people were beginning to eat from a big buffet.
    As soon as it was dark, Mr. Blount’s fireworks display began. He’d hired somebody from Seattle for it. People were ooohing and aaahing like small children, staring up at the multicolored flaring lights that exploded like stars and pressing their hands over their ears, the noise was so loud. I couldn’t find Dad at first, then saw him at the far end of the deck surrounded by admirers. He was in a festive mood, one arm loosely slung around the bare shoulders of a veryyoung woman with dramatically straight blond hair. From time to time he called over to Samantha and me, “Hey girls. Having a good time?” and “Terrific display, eh?”
    I remembered the promise No divorce. Not ever .
    Freaky-quick and shrewd, I slipped away from the party while everybody was gaping at the fireworks.
    Immediately I went to our car in the driveway. I knew that Dad kept a flashlight in the glove compartment, and I took this flashlight and crept behind the Blounts’ garage to the “private zoo.” “Fourth of July! Independence Day! Here you go.”
    One by one I unlatched the cages. First the raccoons, then the fox cub, then the hare, then the owl. My heart was pounding like crazy. I didn’t know if I was scared to death or excited. My hands were shaking. At first, not one of the creatures stirred. They were fearful of me, huddling in their cages. The little fox’s eyes glared tawny yellow like reflectors. Thehare was visibly quivering. I drew back from the cages and lowered the flashlight. “Go! Go back home! You’re free.”
    Still, no one moved.
    In the sky above the Blounts’ house the fireworks were bursting and blooming. The ooohs! and ahhhs! were louder, people were drunker. I was so disgusted! If animals could think, what would they think of our species? Capable of such silly, extravagant behavior, but at the same time cruel and selfish. Like the Blount brothers. Cruel because they were selfish and ignorant, behaving as if animals weren’t “real”—didn’t have feelings just like they did.
    At last, the larger raccoon leaped down from his cage and went lumbering frantically toward the woods without a backward glance. The other raccoon was more cautious but followed him. The hare seemed paralyzed, his bulging dark eyes blinking spasmodically, but the fox cub was approaching the opened door of his cage, sniffing as if he suspected a trick. The owl hadn’t moved, not a feather. I backedaway farther and switched off the flashlight.
    â€œGo on! Go home.”
    Running back to the Blounts’ house, I felt so happy .
    It was a Freaky Green Eyes rush, like adrenaline.
    Next morning when the cry went up from the Blount brothers that someone had sabotaged their private